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1d1195 · 4 months ago

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Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

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astralis-ortus · 6 months ago

Text

you're always enough

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— losing you was not an option.

w.count → 2.3k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing, mention of infidelity, insecure chan :( a.n → based on this request! it honestly was a challenge for me hahahㅠ i think it's been a while since i wrote something with this quick of a vibe change in a while but i'm glad i got to try again! ⋆ see masterlist

the clock at the bottom right part of his monitor shows its lingering around the 1pm mark—a mere 2 hours since he had stepped foot inside the building—and yet, he’s already stressed.

one block and straight to another, work hasn’t been looking good for him so far. he’s so ready to call for another break—but the soft knocks to the melody of twinkle twinkle little stars on chan’s studio door could only mean one thing.

“well hello there, miss producer,” chan’s frown turned into a smile in the split second you peeked your head between the crack of the door, eyes turning into a pair of beautiful crescents you oh-so adore. you couldn’t even stop yourself from smiling—chan just looked so adorable with his messy natural curls decorating his forehead, beanie discarded somewhere on his leather couch. “come on in. i missed you.”

4 years ago, you were graced with the opportunity to participate in a song camp with the 3racha—one of, if not the, biggest producers in your company. it was a great experience—you got to learn a lot of new things, and somehow, your luck seemed to prolong as you kept in touch with the boys; occasionally called in for inputs while some other time just to hangout while grabbing a bite when the three realized the unidentified voice bleed turns out to originate from your producing room.

“oh really?” your smile easily mirrored his as you stepped inside the cold room, not forgetting to close the door behind you, “you missed me?”

taking his extended hand, the wide grin painted on your face soon met the end of its reign as your boyfriend pulls you into his lap—tiny yelp involuntarily left your lips while chan had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. you couldn’t even continue with the witty remarks on the tip of your tongue when his complimentary dozen of butterfly kisses fell across the span of your face; all replaced with the series of giggles and ‘oh my god—stop!’s as you attempted to free yourself from his trap.

you thought your little crush on the oldest of the three was going to remain as a silly little crush—but as life turns out, it has somehow been around 2 years since chan asked you to be his girlfriend, and a little over a year since you two gradually came clean to your closest friends and coworkers; though the thought only came after repeatedly being caught secretly meeting up or sneakily holding hands during your increasingly overlapping recording sessions.

“you little monster!” a high pitched squeal slipped past your upturned lips when you finally caught his rosy cheeks between your hands, keeping him still as you brought your lips onto his for a few quick pecks—which seemed to work, seeing how chan’s antics now reduced to a simple giggle as he held you close. “you really missed me that much?” you hummed, gently running your thumbs on his freckled cheeks.

“of course i do,” chan pursed his lips in protest, warm hand gently running down your side, “it’s not every day i couldn’t see my girlfriend both at home and at work. 24 hours a day alone wasn’t enough, and now it’s reduced? of course i’m bound to miss you!”

swarms of butterflies fill the hollow of your chest while you let laughter echoes through the familiar green walls, feeling both warm and ticklish from chan’s cheesy line. “gosh,” your wide set grin now completed with a tinge of rose-colored flush on your cheeks, “you’re so head over heels for me, aren’t you?”

chan’s reverberating low hum became his reply, nodding his head confidently. “of course i am,” he smiled, eyes twinkling as the pair of deep brown eyes peered right into yours. “aren’t you?”

“well,” you grinned, arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “maybe if—”

your train of thought was forced to a halt when you felt a buzz in your pocket, quickly hopping off chan’s lap after a quick glance at the name. a short apology was muttered before you finally took the call outside the studio, leaving chan feeling a little dumbfounded and… hurt.

chan knew it’s probably work—despite the promised time off since the artist you’re working with is on their vacation, as someone who works behind the scenes, you’re never actually off duty. there’s bound to be urgent matters you need to deal with, and chan understood that.

he's just… confused.

and his confusion certainly multiplies in size when he heard another voice laughing with yours, right outside of his studio.

“no! geez, didn’t i—oh!” your attention instantly shifted when you heard the studio door crack open, eyes catching your puzzled boyfriends’ as he looked at you and the figure across. “channie, this is kyungho sunbae. he’s a new addition to the team but i met him in college. kyungho sunbae, this is—”

“bang chan-ssi, of course,” kyungho cheerily greeted chan, extending a friendly hand. “i’ve heard a lot of good things about you!”

“oh,” the confusion on chan’s face turned into a tight smile—which equally reflected on his grip on the stranger’s hand. even through a quick scan of his eyes, chan notices a lot. “couldn’t really say the same, but welcome. i hope you’re adjusting well so far,” chan continued, returning his hand to the small of your back.

“i am, thank you! i—”

“i’m sorry i can’t really talk much right now, i have my things to return to,” chan was quick to cut kyungho off, surprising both you and the latter. “it was nice meeting you, though,” chan quickly bowed before disappearing behind the metal door, leaving you slightly bothered.

“well, i gotta get going too,” kyungho finally broke the awkwardness between you. “i’ll text you later about the details?” he smiled despite the peeking confusion behind his eyes, to which you nodded before sending him off.

it was unlike chan to behave like that. sure, he might grow a little rough with his actions when work hasn’t been going the way he wanted things to be, but he was doing just fine. he was all lovey dovey with you less than 5 minutes prior, wasn’t he?

“baby,” cracking the door open, you were met with a stern-faced chan—eyes locked to his monitors with a muffled bass resonating from the headphone over his ears. the sight led you to a defeated sigh; you knew better than anyone to not bother the lion when he’s in this state.

but little did you know,

when you decided to back away and close the door, chan felt as if his worst nightmare had come true.

he knows it’s stupid to think that you’d ever cheat on him, but there’s also no guarantee that you would never fall for someone else and realize that maybe your happiness wasn’t with him. it terrifies chan to realize that maybe one day, you’d meet someone and realize that there’s someone better than him—someone better looking, someone who could treat you better, someone who could give you everything that you could ever wished for.

chan is scared that he’s not enough, and never will be.

for someone who’s been in his seat for so long, chan understands that at times his life does feel rather fleeting—like he’s simply going through the motions as he tries to stay afloat. everything—everyone—goes by so fast, and along the way, chan somehow learned how to shut down his feelings just so he could survive. he knew—he hoped, that as life gets better, he’ll come to find the opportunity to learn how to feel again.

but then, again, not everything he knows he needed to do proves to be easy.

it took him a while, but when he finally reached a point where he felt like life’s doing better for him, chan finally realizes that he now has love within him to give. he tried sharing them with his bandmates, he tried sharing them with his friends and family—hell, he even tried to share them with every single soul he met, but nothing fills him with the sense of content he was looking for…

until he met you.

chan knew he shouldn’t—you were his coworker, but despite him trying his best not to view you in a special light, he couldn’t help but return his gaze to your bright smile whenever you’re in the room. sure, you’re passionate about what you do, and it sure inspires him—but to see how your shoulders relax whenever you pop open a new book, or how happy you looked browsing through the convenience store aisles while trying to find what kind of new snacks you’ve never seen before,

it feels like he finally found what to be at peace felt like. he finally knew what love should look like—and it’s you.

a soft touch on his shoulder snaps chan out of his trance, eyes wide as it met your worried pair. your gentle smile was the second thing he noticed, and his eyes finally trailed down to the box of pineapple juice and a few snacks along the roll of kimbab perched on his desk.

“i know you’re busy,” your voice finally came clear as soon as chan took off his headphone, “but you need to eat first, okay? it’s almost 2, and i know you didn’t eat much earlier before you left. i’m not gonna bother you again if you eat now—i’ll even head home if you need time to focus, but that’s as long as you eat. okay?”

“…then i’m not eating.”

“baby—”

“i don’t want you to go home,” chan reiterated—and that’s when you finally see the tinge of sadness behind his eyes. “i’m not eating if you’re gonna go.”

“oh baby—what happened?” your voice turned gentle as you took his face in your hands, gently grazing the pads of your thumbs over his skin. “are you okay? do you—”

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” you tilted your head, now confused. “for…?”

“just… everything,” chan exhaled, arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and rested his forehead on your stomach. “i know i’m difficult, but please. don’t leave.”

“baby you’re not difficult,” you furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled. what happened in the 30 minutes you were gone? did something terrible happened? all sorts of thoughts were running through your head.

“and i’m not leaving,” your voice were stern, and you felt the way chan slightly tightened his arms around you. “where am i supposed to even go anyway? i’m already home.”

if chan wasn’t tearing up before, then he sure is now.

“even if i’m not perfect?” he quietly muttered—and you’re slowly piecing the puzzles together. “even if i’m not tall enough? even if my hair is always messy? even if i’m not fashionable? even if—"

“stop right there, mr. bahng,” you stopped him, peeling yourself off from chan and gazed right at his flushed face, “why are you being mean to my boyfriend? where does this came from, hm? no one’s allowed to say shit to my boyfriend like that!” your pursed your lips and gently lowered yourself to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, only then smiling when chan let out a soft giggle.

“were you upset about me talking to kyungho sunbae earlier?” you questioned, and despite the lack of reply from your boyfriend, you’re pretty sure you knew what his answer was based on the minuscule shift on his face.

“i’m sorry, baby. i thought our interactions wasn’t important enough, so i never really brought him up to you. had i known you’d feel differently about that, i would’ve told you right away,” you apologized, smiling as you noted the faint glint returning in his eyes. “we did met in college, but he was just a senior i came to shadow a couple times when i started out in the industry.”

“i was really surprised when he turned out to be the new guy in my team,” you continued, fingers gently tracing his features, “but what really shocked me was turns out, i actually know his wife.”

you watched as your boyfriend connected the dots, jaw falling upon realizing the tiny detail he had skipped through despite catching a short glimpse of thin silver band on his finger.

“i met his wife a few times since we were pretty close in high school, and he’s been trying to dig out some information from me since their anniversary is just around the corner and he wanted to surprise her. he was just making sure he got the details right without texting me since his texts are synced to their shared device,” you explained, letting a giggle slip when you caught the blush creeping up your boyfriend’s face.

“…i see.”

the echo of your laugh only grew in volume when your boyfriend began to avoid your eyes, resorting to him burying his face on your stomach. adorable.

“it’s okay, baby. i understand why you’d get jealous,” your lips were set into a wide grin as you held your boyfriend close. “i’m still really sorry, though. i really wasn’t trying to hide this, i promise. i’ll tell you straight away if anything like this ever happened again.”

“okay.”

“so…” reducing your giggles to a smile, you gently run your nails on your boyfriend’s scalp, trying to soothe him, “am i forgiven?”

a muffled whine and a nod after, chan finally gazed up at you and added, “if only you’re eating with me.”

“oh baby,” cradling his face in your hands with a smile, you inched closer and placed a light peck over his pouting lips, “i’ll even stay here and cuddle all day with you.”

only then, chan finally allowed himself to laugh.

“well, then don’t mind if i say yes to that.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 1 year ago

Text

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (M)

★ PAIRING: Academic rival!Haechan x afab/fem!reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, E2lover, Rival2lovers

☆ SUMMARY: Haechan and you have never gotten along, and your friend group is sick of it, so they make a bet that the two of you can't ignore. When put to the test, will your hatred for each other still stand?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: 18+, minors do not interact, Meandom! Haechan, aphrodisiac drug, mentions of drinking, sexual bet, sexual intercourse, swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, Haechan being mean, lowkey forgot what I wrote, so just BEWARE.

☆★ NOTES: Yuh! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. Another saga of me failing the Don't write another hate2love challenge! FYI, I'm not a writer; I'm just a person who writes occasionally. Lovers in e2l not found more of a fuck buddy type relationship. Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for the support on my other fics. I don't usually write that often but the good feedback encourages me.

At this point, your friends were getting tired of it. You two were constantly at each other's throats. They initially believed you could'nt stand one another, but recently, the atmosphere in the room after your shouting matches was too intense to be fueled solely by animosity. The flames behind your eyes burned too brightly for them to be caused by resentment alone. They used to hold you back from lunging at him, but now they wondered what would really happen if you got your hands on him.

Haechan and you had known each other since middle school. You two shared a lot of the same classes, and unfortunately, you both had parents who expected you to excel in school. You were always trying to one-up each other or stamp out the other's resolve. Your relationship was rocky from the start, and even if you two weren't fighting for the top spot, you doubt you would find him likable.

Haechan was a natural at everything. He didn't have to try very hard to be the best; he just got it. On the other hand, despite spending hours studying, you could just barely match his performance. You were jealous of how easy he made it look. The fact that he would flaunt his success in your face didn't help.

“Can't keep up?” He would say after outperforming you on the final exam by 10 points, he had that same smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face on full display. You had spent days preparing for the test, even skipping a few hours of sleep. Haechan never studied; the most he ever did to prepare for an exam was to quickly skim the material a few hours before the test. Even then, he would still ace it.

You expected to grow up and put the rivalry behind yourselves during high school, but he would jump at any chance to make you look like an idiot. You could say the sky was blue, and he would argue that it was actually the reflection of the ocean that gave the sky the illusion of being blue. Back in middle school, you limited all interactions with him for your own sanity. However, in high school, he somehow managed to join your friend group, so you were forced to endure him during hangouts. You eventually got used to his presence and the non-stop teasing. It wasn't until you received your acceptance letter to the college you would be attending with your friends that you thought you would finally be free from him. Haechan's parents had wanted him to go to a college that was 4 hours away from your hometown, and you counted down the days until graduation.

Luck was never on your side.

Due to Haecahan's tendency to put things off, he wasn't able to submit his application in time, and as the school was very competitive, the available spots quickly filled up. Luckily for him, your college had an extended application process, which allowed him to send it in late, and he was accepted. Now here you are two years into college, and Haechan is still insufferable.

You two were on two completely different career tracks, so your classes never overlapped, so at least you stopped fighting about grades. Being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore, anyway. You hated the pressure that your parents put on you growing up. Before, you would have had a heart attack if you saw a B, but now you just shrug them off. Even still, all you two do is just have petty arguments because that's all you have ever done.

“You would not be able to see an explosion in space; it's a vacuum; fire can't exist.”

"Well, I've seen Star Wars, so I think that proves my point.”

“That's Fiction! You know, like the idea of you having a brain,” you roll your eyes.

“Almost like your sense of humor? I was joking. Of course I know that I took astronomy before you," he smirks.

He was constantly trying to get under your skin. You take a long breath and try to calm yourself down. "Well, yeah, because I took a different science asshole." Your friends say it's because you always give him a reaction, but you hate being wrong. You had to get the last word, especially against know-it-alls like him.

Despite your complaints, he isn't entirely horrible. On the days that you two aren't arguing, he's making you laugh so hard that you practically fall over. He's not a complete jerk all the time; it's just that once you two get started, it's hard to stop.

“Oh please, can you two cut it out? You have either had too much alcohol or not enough if you can still think about arguing,” your friend Johnny slurs.

It's Saturday night, and you have just finished off an exhausting exam week. Your friends felt a celebration was in order to wind down from the trying week. Now the only thing trying was Haechan testing your patience. You're at Johnny's house, and everyone is spread out around his spacious living room, bottles of alcohol scattered several surfaces. Johnny’s family was well off, and he lived off campus in one of the few estates that his family owned. The house had two stories and a pool in the backyard. On the weekends, you would spend the most of your time here.

“You're right I came here to relax, not burst a blood vessel.” You sigh and take a seat next to Johnny on the couch. You take a couple sips from whichever unopened can of cheap alcohol is nearby. Even though you could already sense a buzz coming on, it needed to hit harder if you were going to have to deal with Haechan all night.

Hyuck chuckled and found a spot on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, the princess just seemed like her day was going too well; I had to ruin it a little," he said.

Your friend Yuna raised an eyebrow in his direction and smirked as she took another sip of her drink. “For you to hate her so much, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about her.”

“One point Yuna, '' you smile at your friend's rebuttal. Arguing with Haechan could be tiring, but your roommate always had your back.

“I think you two just need to hug it out... in a room... alone,” your other friend Mark joked.

You dryly laugh, "So funny."

“You scared?” Hyuck says with a wicked grin. He leans back on one arm as he sips on his drink, still eyeing you confidently. It's at times like these that you betray yourself the most. He looks so good with his light brown hair framing his face; it's grown so long now that it covers his eyes if he doesn't push it back. The alcohol must be hitting because now all you can imagine is pulling on the soft brown locks and not out of anger. You must have taken too long to reply, because now he's raising an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn't want to be alone with you even if you were the last person on earth."

Johnny cuts off Haechan's response before he can start. "Want to test that theory?"

Questions run through everyone's mind as you all turn to look at Johnny after his outburst.

“What, are you gonna kill us or something?” Haechan responds wearily.

"No, but I should, with the headache you have given me.”

“So…?” You urge him to continue.

"You two keep saying how much you can't stand each other, so how about we put that to the test?" Johnny closes with a sinister grin.

“I feel like you're gonna say something really stupid next." Mark comments

Johnny ushers your other friends into a huddle and tries his best to whisper in his drunken state.

"Guys, just hear me out? We can all feel the tension between these two. They clearly need to fuck or something, so how about we help them along so we don't have to deal with them trying to tear each other apart?”

“How would we do that?”

“We can hear you, and I am NOT fucking him."

“Oh come on, we see the way you two look at each other; you're both just too stubborn to realize it.”

"Hyuck, don't just sit there; help me out here!" you plead

“They have a point, though; you do want to fuck me,” he confidently adds.

"Please, you would be lucky enough if I poked you with a stick,” you say in distaste.

“Order! Order!” Johnny slurs, "Look, I have a way for you both to prove yourselves,” using his beer can as a makeshift gavel.

“Yeah, where were you even going with all of this? Man get to the point,” Mark mutters as he gets comfortable on the sofa.

“"What if you two take an aphrodisiac together and try not to touch each other? If you can last, then you two will win and show everyone how much you despise one another."

The room is silent when Johnny finishes pitching his idea. You think he definitely had one too many drinks tonight. What kind of plan was this? There was no way in hell you would go along with ANY of Johnny's half-baked ideas, but this one was especially crazy. You were just about to shoot down the idea when another voice interrupted you.

“I'm down. What? You can't stand the idea of keeping your hands off me?” Haechan grumbles upon seeing your reaction.

“what? I was just thinking this is stupid. What do I even get out of this? I don't care what you people think,” you huff.

“How about I give you each $500 if you win?”

“Do you-” you start.

“AND Mark does your homework for 2 weeks.”

“Hey! I didn't-” mark says

“AND Yuna does your share of the chores at your dorm.”

“WHA-!” yuna argues

"Deal," you quickly say before anyone can finish their complaints.

"Dude, this is not what we discussed,” Mark complains. Johnny whispers to him about something, and he perks up a little as Johnny makes him a promise. "Fine"

Johnny lays down the rules for you two. You and Haechan will both take an aphrodisiac pill and be restricted to the upstairs bedroom. You’ll have to stay in the room with each other for 3 hours, and if you two can withstand the 3 hours without touching each other, you win. If you lose, you both have agreed to play nice with each other or at least around other people.

As soon as you both take the pink pill, Johnny starts the timer. You make your way up the stairs to the bedroom, where you often crash on the weekends. This was definitely not how you thought you would be spending the weekend.

“We’ll come knocking when the time’s up! Yuna yells from downstairs.

You pout playfully and mock her from over the railing of the stairs. She was supposed to be the reasonable one.

“Oh real mature,” Haechan chuckles as he shuffles past you up the stairs. The staircase was really narrow, and you could practically feel his body heat against you as he went. The pills' effects haven't even fully settled in yet, and you're already feeling things you shouldn't. If you were planning on winning, you would have to get it together. Maybe this wasn't as easy as you thought.

As you make your way up the remaining stairs, you see Haechan standing by the door frame, waiting for you. He rolls his eyes. "You're stalling."

You murmur under your breath, "I'll literally give you my half of the money if you shut up for the next three hours," but drag yourself into the room nevertheless.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The first 20 minutes aren't terrible. You guys make yourselves comfortable on opposite sides of the room and pick a random wall to stare at. As Haechan makes himself comfortable on the room's lone bed, you take a seat on a little bench that lines a sizable window. You're grateful he keeps his mouth shut. This was probably the longest you two have been in each other's presence without speaking.

It wasn't until about 30 minutes in that the effect hit you. Your breathing grew labored, and your blood started to flow through your veins more quickly. Your body started to heat up. To cool down, you placed your face on the window, breathing fogging the glass. When you looked up to see how Haechan was fairing, he was already looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes as his chest expanded with each deep inhale.

As much as he got on your last nerve, you had always thought he was attractive. His tan honey skin that glowed in the sunlight, his pretty moles that you would kill to kiss, and his gorgeous eyes that always made your heart beat just a little harder when he would glare at you whenever you hit a nerve. You loved seeing him worked up, but the few moments you got to see him when he was happy were moments you stored deep in the vault of your heart. You hated him; there was no time for admiring him.

You tried to shove those thoughts away, but It was as though all the thoughts you had been working so hard to suppress had suddenly surfaced. All you could think about was his plump lips and how they would feel on your body. How his fingers would feel encircling your throat, pressing the chilly rings that decorated his hands against your skin. His golden locks flowing through your fingers as you hold him close. You couldn't resist licking your lips at the idea.

“Don't fucking do that,” he abruptly spoke. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He spreads his legs further, trying to get comfortable in his spot across the room.

You try to fight the urge, but your eyes travel down his body to the bulge in his sweats. You immediately cross your legs at the sight. You had to clutch onto the pillows of the seat you were in; otherwise, you don't think you could stop yourself from crossing the room in a heartbeat.

“What? Can't handle it hyuckie?” You coo at him, using the old nickname you haven't called him since middle school. You had to find some ground in this setting. You couldn't let him see how weak he was making you.

"Out of all the times you pick to be a brat, now is not the time," he grumbles mockingly.

“Why? Am I getting on your nerves? Hmm, I could only wonder what that must feel like,” you sneered. You were so horny, it's pissing you off. You decide Haechan can use a taste of his own medicine, and what better way to blow off steam than to get under his skin?

“Maybe they were right. Maybe you do need a good fuck for you to lose the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

"Careful," he smirks, licking his lips.

You know that look; he's testing you. He's daring you to say something else.

"That's what I thought," he says, closing his eyes and attempting to control his breathing.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You're about an hour in, and you can't take it any longer; you're practically rutting against the seam of your jeans, hoping for some kind of friction.

"Please, I can't do this anymore," you cry out for air. You turn to face him, but he doesn't answer. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn together as if he's in pain.

“Haechan!” You scream again; this time he slowly opens his eyes, and you suck in a breath as your eyes meet. His pupils were completely blown as sweat pricked his brow.

“Are you giving up?"

You nod in response.

“That's too bad; I still want to win,” he smirks lazily.

"Let's just forfeit; this is stupid!” You stand from where you were seated and head to the door. This prompts Haechan to finally move from his spot as he uses his long legs to cross the room in three wide strides. Before you can open the door, he stops you. For the first time since you two entered the room, he touches you. While keeping his body an arms' length away from you, he is shoving you up against the door by your shoulders. Your body is on fire at the mere touch, and you're grateful for the little bit of space he has given you.

“Calm down. Think this through,” he huffs as if out of breath. “just-just think of the money.”

“I don't care about this stupid bet! I feel like I'm going to explode,” you cry, fighting to escape his hold, but he just pins you back against the door.

“How about I take care of it then? Hmm?” He begs, never breaking eye contact. “I'll take the pain away, baby. Just work with me, yeah?"

"That defeats the point Haechan; we aren't supposed to touch each other; I thought you were smarter than that," you protest, growing increasingly frustrated.

“As long as you keep those gorgeous lips shut, nobody would ever know.” He slowly closes in on you as he speaks. “I help you out, and when we get out of this room, we pretend like nothing happened, and that we still can't stand each other, deal?” He's a breath away. The close proximity, the way he's practically breathing down your neck, and the look in his eyes that tells you he is only about 2 seconds away from devouring you were all you needed to go along with Haechan's scheme.

You stopped listening about halfway through anyway so you nodded mindlessly before closing the remaining space between the two of you. You're pushing off the door and pressing your body against his as you guide him towards the bed. Even though you can both feel your lungs starting to burn, neither of you has the strength to break the kiss. When his legs met the edge of the bed, he sat, giving you both time to regain your breath. He's resting back against his hands, looking up at you, and his legs are spread wide as if he were offering himself to you.

"Come on princess, take whatever you want from me," he smirks as you get into his lap and nestle down against the tent in his pants. You push him until his back is flush against the mattress, then mindlessly grind down on him. You use his chest to steady yourself as you throw your head back and drown in the feeling. You feel Haechan's hands gripping your waist and then traveling up your torso. His hands explored your body as you got lost in each other. Haechan sits up to meet your lips in another passionate kiss. As he deepens the kiss, he clutches your waist tightly to restrict your movements. You whine at the lack of stimulation, but all he can do is smile against your lips in return.

“Be patient baby; let me love on you.”

“This…was…not…a part of…the deal,” you try to finish as he lovingly pecks your lips.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down? Shut up,” he says, ignoring your insistent whining, lavishing your face and neck in wet kisses. Any “loving” he was going to give vanished at your bratty behavior.

“Stop teasing, hyuck seriously. I think I'm going insane.”

You were on the verge of tears at this point; you needed him to give you some type of relief. That's exactly how he wanted you—desperate and needy—not like you already weren't, but he liked to push you to your limits.

“Lay down for me,” he says, releasing his grip on your hips and patting your thigh to signal you to get up. You swiftly move to lay on the bed, and you watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his sweatpants, leaving him only in his underwear. He climbs the bed and helps you remove your jeans. As he's tugging the material down your thick thighs, you remove your shirt and bra. He settles between your legs, and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist. He has to press his palm down against your lower stomach to stop you from grinding against him again.

"You promise to behave?" He prys your legs free from his waist, trapping them against your chest and restricting your movement.

You nod mindlessly, reaching out to grab him and trying to draw him into another kiss, but he pins your hands above your head, using his hips instead to further pin you down.

"Uh-uh princess, use your words," he adds coldly.

“Please hyuck, I promise I'll be good.”

“You going to be a good girl and keep that mouth shut?”

You were exhausted from having to use your brain to come up with a coherent response; you were at your limit. All you could think about was him filling you up, and every second he didn't, it felt like a year of your life span was shaved off. You did cry this time. You were so frustrated with him; he did this all the time. He never plays nice; he always makes you work for it.

"Oh you poor baby," he coos lovingly as he kisses your eyelids and wipes away your tears. "I'm sorry, but I have to hear you say it," he continues.

"I promise to be your good girl; I swear I won't make a sound, please," you sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

“If I hear one sound, I'm stopping, and you can walk out of this room and finish yourself off, got it?”

You've learned to respond quickly when he asks you a question, so you nod your head with a "yes sir."

This makes Haechan smile wickedly. Who would have guessed that the same brat who walked into the room with him no less than an hour ago could be so obedient? He was definitely never letting you live this down when this was over. He finally decides to take pity on you, kisses down your body, and removes your panties. He threw your legs over his shoulders, and a quick kiss to your inner thigh was all the warning you got before he nuzzled his nose up against your clit as he licked into your entrance. He savored the taste with his tongue before licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. The sounds his mouth made as he devoured you were wet and noisy as he slurped away at your essence.

You were fighting for your life above him. Reaching for a pillow that was just almost out of reach, you used it to smother your sounds. A sharp slap on your outer thigh served as a warning to keep your voice down. It was the only warning you were going to get. Soon the pillow is long forgotten as you gasp for air. Your thighs began to shake as you choked on your moans. Your back arches, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll. You were going to come, and you would have welcomed it with open arms any other time, but you knew how loud you could get. He was not letting up, and you knew if you came like this, you wouldn't be able to hold back the scream that's been dying to echo against the walls.

You try your best to fight it off. You frantically push at his head, begging him with your eyes as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to bite back moans. He shakes his head no, but the movement simply adds to the pleasure, and you're about to lose it. You try to get away from his mouth by shifting up the bed, but his powerful arms wrap around your thighs and pull you back down onto his mouth.

"Hae-" His look silences you, and your mouth hangs wide in a silent cry as you spasm on his tongue. It was the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Once he helps you ride out the wave, he kisses your pussy one more time before pulling away. As soon as he does, you snap your legs shut, still reeling from the orgasm. His face was practically dripping as he stared you down, hungry.

"Better?" he asks, brushing the back of his palm across his face.

"Mhm,” you reply, causing him to raise a brow, "better,” you quickly follow, using your voice.

Your eyes travel down his body until they reach what you’ve been craving for the most. Haechan was harder than you thought could even be possible. His tip was a furious shade of crimson, gleaming in precum.

"One more baby," he strokes his length before hissing and gripping the base. "Just be my good girl one more time," he begs.

You almost feel bad. The whole time he was teasing you, he was also teasing himself. You're amazed he's maintained this level of self-control up to this point.

“I don't know if I can keep quiet if we continue,” you plead.

“Open your mouth” is all he says as he prys your legs open and settles between them.

You comply, and Haechan shoves your panties into your mouth. You try to object, but he covers your mouth with his palm for added security.

"My turn," he grins before bottoming out inside you. The first few strokes are so deep, you can practically feel him in your stomach. He's trying to keep control; he's trying to be gentle with you because he knows how sensitive you are, but he's slowly losing it. He's going to use you like a doll. His thrusts pick up pace, and all you can hear in the room is skin slapping against skin unforgivingly. The hand around your mouth clamps down harder as he buries his head into your neck.

“Im sorry... fuck” was all you got as he hiked your leg up higher on his waist, trying to hit deeper. His hot breath fanning across your neck and the soft staccato groans he lets out are the only indications that he is close. Your head is in the clouds, and you can't think straight. You barely register the fact that you came again until he bites at your neck to muffle his deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening down on him. Next thing you know, he's snapped.

He quickly sits up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he drives his hips down into you, practically fucking you into the mattress until his hips are stuttering. He pulls the panties from your mouth to kiss you in the hopes of drowning out his own sounds of pleasure. His kiss is messy. It's nothing but tongue and teeth as his thrusts grow slopy. He's practically whimpering into your mouth when he cums.He rides out his high before pulling away from your lips. All you can do is stare at each other as you catch your breath. There is a brief moment of silence before you both burst out laughing. He collapses next to you and pulls you close.

“You think they heard that?” he asks, panting.

"Oh, we definitely heard everything." A muffled voice can be heard through the door, and you assume it's Yunas.

You're too sleepy to feel embarrassed as your eyelids begin to droop.

"Don't worry, you two; we'll say you won as long as you don't try to kill each other again." Johnny's muffled voice can be heard next.

"I don't think she'll be able to do much for a while," Haechan muffles. Speaking to your sleeping form more than anyone else.

"I'll get the plan B girl. I gotchu," Yuna voice fades as she walks down the hallway.

She was definitely gonna grill you for the details. She always wanted a run-down play by play of everything that happened.

Soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in haechans warm embrace.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Johnny would call his mission a success. You two stopped arguing for the most part, and the group was able to enjoy more peaceful outings without the two of you turning every conversation into a debate. Your friends were fond of your bickering, but at times it could get to be too much. But now that your relationship with Haechan has blossomed into a….situationship? They were running into another problem.

You two fuck like rabbits.

No matter where you were, you two were slipping off to do who knows what or being all touchy-feely with each other, and your friends didn't want to see or hear any of it. But because you two seemed happier, they learned to cope with it. Yuna bought new noise-canceling headphones to use whenever Haechan would spend the night at your dorm. Johnny upgraded the speakers in the house so that when he had a party and you two snuck away, the music could blast louder to drown out your noises. Mark downloaded more mobile games on his phones to ignore you two when you would get all lovey during movie nights.

Haechan still picked on you, but he saved it more for the bedroom, and you still tried to test his patience any chance you got. You didn't know what you two had, but you didn't mind enjoying it while it lasted or even furthering it. You learned a lot more about Haechan and discovered that you two had more in common than you believed. You also learned he could be a real sweetheart sometimes. Maybe your friends were right all along, and maybe Johnny isn't as crazy as you thought. Maybe you didn't have to be better than Haechan all along.

Rushed ending opps

#haechan #lee haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #smut #right before i post a fic i get the worst case of anxiety it makes me wanna puke #like whats stopping me from deleting this rn 🤔#imma let yall have it tho 🤪

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rainychaoloveshack · 4 months ago

Note

AAAAA—

I’ve been searching for Sonic x reader req’s…

can I ask for a Shadow x reader where both were experiments for Maria’s cure? Where Shadow had a slight hatred and annoyance towards them because at times Maria would give time for them to hang out. Then blah blah blah after her death and the fall of the ark. He sees them again where they have a flower shop now, then finally after years Shadow gives in to apologize as he realizes he’s not the only one who mourns for Maria.

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

it’s been years since you saw his face, and even longer since you’ve seen hers.

⋆°•☁︎ content . shadow x gn!reader, angst, so so so many mentiona of the word “flower” (it’ll drive you insane) warning. brief mentions of vomit.

☂︎ wc. 1.8k ☂︎ a/n. huehehe flowers go brrrrr. i got kinddd of experimental with this one and tried to branch out more emotionally. i hope you like it ^^ wouldve wrote in some more but i didnt want it to be too long… my fault :( i just love angst lol

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

“[Name], ah, this is really, really cool!” Her fingers weave the stems together like a beautiful melody, overlapping with one another to form a gorgeous pattern in her palms. “When you were learning this at first, you should’ve told me! I could’ve learned it with you!” She gives you a fake little pout, soon to be replaced by her ever-shining smile. “Now I can make you and Grandpa flower crowns all the time! Though, I don't think he’ll wear them…”

And you can’t wait for the moment that she hands you one of her own, one made on her own time, with no assistance from your end. A true testament of her love for you; one you would never doubt, gift or not.

Paired with your hydrangeas and carnations, roses and daffodils. Every little flower at your fingertips; ones you thought she would adore. Put and grown with love right on the Ark, with the help of Professor Gerald. The fact that you had decided to cultivate life on the Ark caught his attention, and it might’ve not been possible without his assistance with your little hobby. Your garden wasn’t just that, though. It wasn’t a simple piece of eye candy for passersbys; they weren’t allowed to take a single step in it.

It was for flower crowns; something you had learned just to impress her. A secret hobby, just for the two of you to play around with. No one else.

Not even Shadow.

“Oh, and I can make some for Shadow too!” Her fingers graze over the petals on her newly made crown, a mixture of light blue flowers and red ones, along with your favorite color. Three colors mingled into one beautiful piece.

Shadow… You haven’t seen him for a while.

Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you two had always been competing for her attention, her love, but she had managed to share it between the two of you. Was it greedy of both of you to ask that from her? Her saccharine self? It’s not like you’ll ever know the answer now.

You’ve never gotten along with Shadow, despite you two coming from the same origin. Natural competitors. But neither of you had ever engaged in any sort of conflict directly, maybe a snide remark or two from him but that would be all. Most of the hatred was from him. Deep down, you know you wouldn’t be opposed to being his friend.

So why does he look at you so harshly?

… It doesn’t matter. As long as you can act as her medicine, her cure, helping her heal from both her illness and what bothers her, that's good enough for you.

It’s been fifty years. Fifty years. You don’t want to remember the specifics, but it’s been more than that now. A couple of years of change, you’re sure.

Your left hand clasps over your right, your fingertips rubbing over your knuckles slowly. Everywhere you look, it’s her. Every flower in your shop; it’s almost like you can see a glimpse of her figure and face through the petals.

Hydrangeas. Carnations. Roses. Daffodils. Every little flower at your fingertips; ones you knew she adored. Grown with your everlasting love for that girl clad in blue; remembering the click of her heels as she would run over to you with a new crown in hand. You wish you could’ve kept each one she gave you, even if they would’ve all wilted by now. Wilted flowers have their own kind of beauty in a way, but maybe it’s only you who sees it.

Remembrance is an aching feeling. Swirling around in your stomach, at times even threatening to spill out of your mouth in the form of vomit and puke. Pouring itself out of your body through tears and bile. And no matter how hard you try, it seems to stay present. Even after all these years.

Before that emotion fills your mouth again, the sound of the bell rips you from your thoughts, the door swinging open. You swirl your body around, putting on a smile to greet your new customer. It’ll be another day, just like the last one.

… What?

“It’s you.” He says, clearly in disbelief at the person he’s seeing, just over the counter. “Hmph. So that idiot was right.”

Is… Is that him? Him?

Shadow?

“Are you in shock that I’m still alive?” Not at all, no. But the words don’t pour out of your mouth, instead letting out shaky breaths as he looks around your humble flower shop; similar to how one would gaze at a picture frame of an old family member. Solemn. Melancholic.

“I’m not here for some stupid greeting. I came for… A bouquet.” He almost seems uncertain about his reasoning. Even after seeing you, he doesn’t look angry. Not even surprised. Curious? You had heard his name throughout the years, but to meet him not anywhere else, but here, now.

Remembrance is an aching feeling.

“Those.” He points to a bunch of delphinium together, a light, bright blue. “And these.” His fingers graze over a dark red bunch of roses, his ear twitching at the sound of your immediate shuffling, going for the delphinium first. Something’s telling you in your heart to not get so close to him. It’s the aching; you’re sure of it.

Naturally you would question why he would need such a bouquet, but it’s not your place to wonder in that manner, especially now. Just do your job and go.

Shadow stares at a certain flower you keep away from the door, away from prying eyes, but still on sale for people to take.

You keep it away on purpose.; those kinds of flowers are your favorite ones. Sometimes if work is slow for a peculiar day, you’ll get lost within the petals, tracing over every groove of the plant, and even the stem itself, taking note of the way they feel under your fingertips.

“These too.” His footsteps almost echo through the store; or is it your imagination weighing heavy on you? Your head turns to see he’s going up to your favorite flower, picking one up by its stem to twirl it over between his fingertips, before dropping it back down. As you make your way over, he seems to notice and backs away from you, retreating to the counter. So even he doesn’t want to chat.

Fine with you. If he hadn’t bothered to come by all of these years, why did you expect him to care? But there’s a back thought in your head, telling you you’re lying about those statements of yours.

No matter.

As you pick up your favorites from its spot, settling a couple into the growing bouquet, you finally notice the mixture of flowers. How important they all are.

Delphinium. Roses. Your favorite.

These are the ones Maria always made flower crowns with.

You hesitate on looking his way, already noticing his gaze stuck on your back, so you keep picking the flowers up, settling them snugly into the bouquet in a sort of pattern.

“I’d like some bits of chrysanthemums in there too.” He suddenly mutters, and you comply with his request, making your way back over to the counter afterward.

The chrysanthemums are a bright yellow, reminding you of the way her blonde hair flowed, mingled with the colors of whatever crown you had made her at the time. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had begged Professor Gerald for a way to preserve them. Thinking about such a thing is so melancholic.

You take the time to wrap a red ribbon around the neck of the bouquet, securing it with a bow to make it more presentable, but knowing Shadow, if he’s any bit of the man he used to be all those years ago, you assume that these blossoms would be going into a vase anyway. He’s not the type of person to leave a bouquet out, is he?

While you mutter the price under your breath, Shadow slips out the exact amount onto the counter, his motions swift. He outstretches his hands, not a single change in expression as he accepts the flowers, then settles them into his arm, hugging it close to his torso. He wants to get this over with; you can tell.

The silence between you two is unbearable. Would it cause that much harm to ask about his flower choices? Why the ones she-

“Yes, Maria liked these ones.” Shadow utters, his fingers brushing across the delphinium. His brows furrow, remembering bits and pieces of both of your pasts together. “She always made those flower crowns with you.”

Of course, he will mention her; how could you be so stupid?

“She made some with me a handful of times.” Shadow says plainly, clearly not enjoying looking back on those memories. Not that he would mind if it was just him and Maria, but that activity was plagued with you. His own thoughts of you. After all of these years. “I think she preferred to make them with you.” He scoffs. “Said it was your special hobby together. I never cared for your hobby.”

You bite your tongue but decide not to say anything as the seconds pass with silence. Suddenly, a deep sigh leaves his lips, your little flower shop falling still with his sudden change in demeanor. The way his shoulders fall, with his head hung low, not daring to look you in the eyes with a small flick of his ear in your direction.

“I’m sorry.” Shadow murmurs. “For all this time I thought of you as just a nuisance.” He shakes his head, pushing up against the counter with his free hand. “But she wouldn’t want me to think of you that way… I don’t want that for myself either.”

Shadow tosses a crisp fifty on the counter along with his still-present payment; clearly overspending for his single bouquet. “Goodbye.”

Your fingers press nervously into the table, nails scratching at wood, eyes plastered onto his distancing figure as he walks away, bouquet in his arm.

Say something. Anything.

His footsteps slowly die out, turning around slightly to meet your eye. “What was that?” Shadow cocks his head to the side, eyes widened slightly, clearly in shock at your goodbye.

It’s customary for business owners to want their customers to come back. Repeated business means more profit. More money to tend to your shop. More happy customers. More smiles. More flowers. Her flowers. A way to remember her by.

Maria.

So it’s as simple as that.

Please come again.

A small grumble rises from his throat as he turns away from you. “I’m gonna ask for the same thing next time, okay? Remember it.” Shadow doesn’t let you get another word out, as the bell chimes above him, pushing open the door to leave you standing there in awe.

That remembrance doesn’t ache as bad anymore.

#sonic x reader #sonic #shadow the hedgehog x reader #thank you for your request!#sonic angst #maria robotnik #maria sonic

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kvroomi · 11 days ago

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May i request megumi headcanons or drabble about him having a pet shop? Have a nice day

in good company

author note: I DIDNT REALISE I HAD THIS SITTING IN MY INBOX IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET AROUND TO!! this started becoming a little too self indulgent but i hope you enjoy it anyways! :)

☆ pairing: petshopowner! megumi x fem!customer! reader

☆ word count: ~1.6k (got carried away,, whoops!)

Megumi believes he's lost 10 years of his life span since beginning this shift.

The entire place is bustling; voices are overlapping and the faint music he plays every morning over the speakers can no longer be heard as more customers pile in. Suffering from the worst migraine, Megumi thinks he can feel himself begin to grow two heads as he tries to simultaneously watch over the two young children playing around with the newly rescued cat and the old lady who’s poking her finger inside the cage of parrots. He notices her scolding them for being too loud and he lets out a deep sigh as she grows even angrier when they spit her complaints back verbatim, mockingly.

The "NO YELLING" sign attached to the cage that’s only inches from the old woman's face (who ironically is currently yelling), is written in glaring red marker. It stares back at him and for a second he thinks that if it grew a face and some arms, it'd start pointing and laughing at him. The boy’s hand drags down his face as he groans at the thought.

To anyone else, they'd think the sign was written to warn the customers not to disturb the birds. But Megumi knows he wrote it for the parrots, sternly telling them to "keep it down," as he taped the sign onto the cage.

He knows they can't read and deep down he knows they don't even understand half of what he mutters to them—but if parrots could talk and respond to even just some of his conversation, then what was stopping them from learning how to read and comprehend a single set of instructions?

He walks over to the old woman, placing a warm hand on her back and guiding her away from the squawking parrots. Once her back is turned, Megumi sends them all a dirty look: a silent message that says he'll be giving them a lecture once everyone is gone.

Bringing her up to the counter and rambling about how “the birds have been in a mood today”, he offers her a 10% discount for pet food with her next visit. She laughs as he hands her the coupon and tells him “[she'd] love to have a sweet boy like him, come over to cat-sit for [her] while [she's] away”.

Megumi smiles and tells her she's welcome to come by any time and help him schedule it, all whilst ushering her out of the store. He desperately needs one less customer to worry about.

As he shuts the door, waving goodbye to her from afar, he mentally curses out Yuuji for calling in sick at the last minute. He'll have to stop by and bring him some soup to make sure he's alive.

The thought of food reminds Megumi that the animals must be hungry. Glancing up at the time, the boy takes note of his lunch break in the next 10 minutes.

He walks around the store, informing everyone that the shop will be closing soon for the next half hour.

The place is filled with warm and friendly smiles; gentle biddings of farewell fill the air. Despite the comforting atmosphere, Megumi has to hold back from grimacing through each entire interaction from how awfully his feet ache.

Thankfully and slowly, he watches as people collect their belongings. He listens patiently for the ring of the bell above the door.

There are still a handful of customers wandering around and collecting last-minute items so he watches from the counter—waiting. Shaking out his arms, he moves to crane his neck over on either side, pausing once he feels the familiar popping sensation of his muscles relaxing.

It’s sudden, and his stretching is halted when he notices. His arms have stopped high in the air. His heart plunges and it’s an immediate swell of anxiety that consumes him.

2 ferrets: Rose and Violet–both of whom are starkly distinct in colour when in comparison to their third companion who is banded with brown fur accompanying their own completely white appearance.

This also happens to be the same third companion missing from the cage. The black-haired boy winces and a deep line forms across his eyebrows—his face hauled into a tight scowl.

Always trust Lily to be wandering off on her own in the worst circumstances.

After spending the entire morning brisk on his feet and repeating the same "how to care for your new pet" conversation over and over again, Megumi was starting to think that closing the shop a couple of hours early and dealing with getting into trouble would be worth it.

How many more times will he have to clarify that, “No, these fish can not survive in a fishbowl,” or that “No, you will not find any pets here that don’t require any effort.” The three hours of sleep he had been functioning off of was ultimately starting to deplete and now on top of everything, he had an escape-artist-ferret he needed to locate.

Oh, the pleasures of working in a pet shop.

Imagine his surprise when he's hauled from his thoughts by the hasty clatter of cans and a foreign shriek, rushing over to the pet food aisle to discover you—frozen in place with Lily attached to the bottom of your pants, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

All prior apprehensions about whether or not Megumi was going to make it out of the shift alive had instantly vanished, and he found himself standing clueless in the middle of the aisle. He’s uncertain of how to approach you because ‘holy shit’, you were just so pretty.

Had you been in the shop the entire time?

All you planned to do today was drop by your local pet store and pick up a couple of packs of treats for your cat Winston. What you didn’t plan to do, was get jumped by a brown and white ferret that flew straight for your face while reaching for a can of cat food.

A soft “ahem” entices you to turn around.

It's brief, but you lock eyes with his own and Megumi swears he can feel his legs buckle from underneath him. He reminds himself that he’s probably just exhausted, shoving down any other ideas that it could be because of you.

“I’m so sorry about her.”

He’s the first to speak, and though his voice may have cracked mid-sentence and he can feel how coarse his throat is getting from the nerves—Megumi hopes that the gentle smile he offers is enough to distract you from it.

And it is, because currently all your thoughts are occupied with how you believe his smile alone could heal every bad day you’ve ever had in this lifetime. You want to tattoo the inside of your eyelids with a picture of his smile, just so you could see it even with your eyes closed and in your dreams. But you couldn’t possibly say that to him, so you settle for the next best line of dialogue.

“I didn’t realise I was a hit with the ferrets.”

Your comment makes Megumi laugh, and he thinks it’s his first, honest laugh since he started work this morning.

“She’s usually quite picky.”

He’s closer now, and your eyes watch as he squats down. His hands are soft and gentle as he attempts to guide Lily off your pants and into his open palms.

Your gaze wanders and you take note of his many rough calluses and lingering scratches that line his fingers, evidence of the hard work and pieces of him that are so beautifully human. Your voice catches in your throat, desperate to uncover the many anecdotes he holds—desperate for your own piece of his humanness. It’s the second time that you are forced to say something else on your mind.

“It seems she’s quite persistent too.”

Megumi lets his eyes trail upwards with a soft chuckle as the small ferret climbs up your leg and then your back, choosing to nestle herself in the deep crevice of the side of your neck. Even though you know Megumi is probably more concentrated on the ferret than what you looked like in the current second, you can’t help the anxious thoughts that run rapidly though your head when you notice his vision follow along the edges of your face.

Did you put on enough lip balm today? Your lips weren’t dry right now were they?

It took a lot of mental strength to not unconsciously bring your hand up to check your lips. Instead, you chose to purse them tightly to hide the awkward smile developing at Megumi’s next sentence.

“I’d go as far as to say she has good taste.”

And that’s when you can feel your breath stop. The isle feels constricting and hot, and the sudden appearance of sweat in your palms makes your mouth feel dry.

His tall figure is standing back up and moving towards the cans that were knocked over seconds earlier—tender hands aiding them to stand back up. He was avoiding eye contact.

Your silence makes Megumi’s stomach churn uncomfortably and he’s already turning his head around, mouth halfway open and ready to apologise when you let out a louder-than-intended and impulsive “thank you.”

It’s cute how bashful you both are, faces avoiding one another and warm smiles yearning to be exchanged.

It’s you who decides to break the pause in the moment. Though upon realising what you had just said, it almost sends you into a psychosis on the spot.

“I guess her and I have that in common.”

This time, it’s Megumi whose gaze snaps towards yours in an instant, a bright grin decorating his face alongside a soft pink hue that was slowly forming across his cheeks.

He thinks he may have just gained back the 10 years he lost earlier.

AUTHOR NOTE: just a little something to keep you all at bay while i work on ‘right person, wrong address’ enjoy! ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

all reblogs and likes are appreciated :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen ff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi imagine #megumi x you #megumi fanfic

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sarahreesbrennan · 2 months ago

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Another Interesting Spoilery Evil Question

To directly answer the question before I start rambling, the Cobra’s body’s physical age is 24.

(You can stop reading here if you like. This gets very long!)

When Marius meets the Cobra (chapter 18 epigraph from Time of Iron) he correctly identifies him as Marius’s own age at the time - 18.

At the time of the book all the physical bodies’ ages are as follows.

Marius - 24

The Cobra - 24

Rahela - 24

Octavian - 24

(Pio and Nemeth, Octavian’s advisers, are in their early 40s and late 50s respectively - they’re Octavian’s dad’s people and that is part of why they are so stressed. Their king died young, Octavian became king in his teens and it has been an uneasy court ever since.)

Emer - 23

Key - 20

Lia - 19

Rae and Eric in our world were both 4 years younger than their bodies in this world (so they would both be 20 if the story hadn’t happened to them). For the moment we’ll leave aside Key, who had another life too, in a different way. (He was a little kid, but old enough to walk after his father, in the epigraph from Time of Iron in chapter 15.)

I do age shenanigans for two reasons.

—One is that age in fiction and reality is weird, and I wanted to portray that. If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when I was 7, is that okay? If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when aged 41, is that okay? Mr Darcy’s always in his late twenties: Elizabeth Bennet will never be older than 21, but she seemed so glamorous and all-knowing to me when I was a kid.

And if you walk into a story, when in their character development do you find them? Would we like Darcy when he’s sneering at Elizabeth at a ball? Who is it that we love and when?

Plenty of adult women fancied Edward Cullen, perpetually a teen (or was he? Fantasy and horror also open up the possibility of immortality - but in a way, all fictional characters are immortal. Holden Caulfield isn’t growing up any more than Edward Cullen is. And like fictional characters and immortals, the dead aren’t getting any older either—I think often of Anne Rice, author of the Vampire Chronicles, who wrote the doomed child vampire Claudia after losing her own daughter Michele as a child. Death, immortality, fiction and the overlap!) When I read or watched stories in which characters were in different/changed bodies they usually seemed younger - often their younger selves, or a younger/cuter body (Peggy Sue Got Married, Scarlet Heart). (Exceptions exist of course, e.g. Howl’s Moving Castle.) And I like magic losing something, costing you something, plus I’m a contrarian. So I wanted them older.

—The other is that LONG LIVE EVIL is a story about trauma, which often arrests your age in your mind. The period in which you were enduring the horrors is a blank in which you couldn’t develop normally, or in which you had plenty of experiences but few of them match with your peers’.

Cancer did it to me, which wasn’t horrendous as I was in my early 30s and that’s still adult, just meant a bit of ‘oh no I’m not this child’s mother, I’m too young - actually I’m a bit old to be this child’s mother now I think about it, but anyway I don’t claim her’ and the like. But I’ve seen it do the same for people with cancer I befriended or whom I mentor, and it’s a very different proposition if the lost years are 17-21.

It’s not just cancer, I’ve seen bereavement work that way on people, and apparently celebrity works on the mind like trauma and arrests you at the age you became famous in a lot of ways. It’s being taken out of the run of ordinary life, walking through your portal into strangeness.

But in the end most of us wind up with years that feel lost, I think, and playing catch-up is the only way forward.

And allegory remains allegory: if I’m writing a werewolf I’m taking about rage and body horror, sure, but I’m also talking about werewolves.

I was actually confused by this ask at first as I’d written a whole section where Eric says he’s going to die of a heart attack at 20 and Marius is exasperated as Eric is a little young to start lying about his age! But it must have fallen victim to my many cuts - stories transform! - and I can see why, because I don’t think Eric exactly thinks of himself as 20 anymore.

I had some struggles with the age stuff, it’s another layer of complication in a complicated story and there were worries raised that it was unnecessary and might make some characters less appealing but in the end I decided it was necessary to me and let the characters be unappealing, then.

I also enjoy the twisting, fluid ages because they cause conflict, and conflict is story.

Rae uses her new age (and thus doesn’t need to think of her absolutely horrible self worth) to count herself out as a romantic option in Key’s eyes.

She also thinks of the Emperor as in his mid-20s, as he is - after a time skip that happens in the original Time of Iron, years in which Key and Emer were Lia’s servants. She knows about those years, but she doesn’t put it together.

At Eric and Marius’s first meeting 6 years before the events of LONG LIVE EVIL, Eric also hasn’t been in the book that long. He was in a horrifically traumatic survival situation for a large part of the time he was inside, when he approached Marius to blackmail him. That is objectively a deranged thing to do, but Eric is thinking like a terrified 14 year old and also like a Huge Fan of Marius. aka the quintessential white knight, the Last Hope who is reserved and dignified and crucially, 24-28.

That would be the Marius Eric at the time knows when he approaches Marius in the flesh, Marius at 18 and coming off family trauma, friend trauma and quasi-romantic trauma himself. Marius actually DOES go into dissociative states and kill people, Eric was taking a huge risk with his own life that not a single person in the country would have taken. Marius is a Valerius, and they are killers. (The whole court, Marius included, thought Lady Katalin ((Rahela’s mother)) was being very daring by like, touching Marius’s hand when he was 17.)

Eric is acting wild partly because a) he is wild, b) he’s desperate but also crucially c) he’s thinking of Marius as someone that Marius isn’t yet and d) he’s not thinking of things from Marius’s POV, and doesn’t until the events of LONG LIVE EVIL. Their quasi friendship/quasi hostage situation (that the hostage had firmly decided was happening) couldn’t have happened without a perfect storm of weirdness, risks and lack of understanding what the hell was going on.

Marius would not have seen a 14 year old Eric (not a child to him exactly, but squire age rather than knight age) as a criminal threat in the same way as he saw the Cobra, his own age (18, which was definitely very adult, Marius thought at the time). Eric wouldn’t have failed to consider consequences or failed to consider Marius as person rather than character, if he’d actually been 18. But by the time anyone knew better, a status quo was established, and habit is second nature and a stronger nature than the first.

Eric’s plight is horrific initially. But at the same time, Eric is extremely intelligent (both intellectually and emotionally) and able to both cover and play catch-up to this new life, and he can advise Rae with the benefit of his experience - but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t screw up massively when he first came into the book, or that he doesn’t still have many things to work through.

Similarly, Emer is used to Rahela who is quasi older sister and quasi mistress, while Rae is now acting younger. And all of them are dealing with a gross system in which men are seen as in their youthful prime when women the same age are getting long in the tooth and can be traded in for teenagers - so even two people who are the same age aren’t treated as if they’re the same age, if they’re different genders. Age stuff is crunchy!

Also, while Emer thinks of Lia as having all the power due to class, Lia looks on someone who was her glamorous older stepsister’s age mate and went off to the big city years ago rather differently. But then, are adulthood and childhood different worlds? Is being in different social classes being in different worlds?

Can we reach the different universes of other people is something I’m always asking, I think.

THIS IS SO LONG. I AM SO SORRY.

#long live evil #pride and prejudice #twilight #ageism #portal fantasy #the golden cobra #marius valerius #emer ni domitia #king octavian #Rae parilla #key of the cauldron #Lia felice #prime minister pio #lle spoilers

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crazy-ache · 4 months ago

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It's very, very interesting to me....

Tower of Dawn (September 5, 2017) and A Court of War and Ruin (May 2, 2017) were released in the same year, only months apart. So I don't think it's far-fetched to believe that there was an overlap in writing, plotting, and planning these books. When you really think about it, you can see many parallels that likely influenced each other.

Specifically Chaol/Yrene and Elain/Lucien.

Both books bring to light:

A soft FMC that does not want to be a warrior or wield a sword

A MMC that is dealing with feelings of guilt and worthlessness

"The world needs more healers." / "I think the world needs more gardens. "

Yrene's healing is a form of light / Lucien's parentage to the Day Court HL

A MMC that has been dealing with issues behind the scenes, separate from the main cast, but that significant work is revealed at a later time

FMCs that are living in a place they call home but aren't truly home

FMCs that try to avoid/maintain distance from the MMC due to prejudices in their heart that are related to the MMC but not directly caused by them (Chaol's identity vs Lucien's bond)

Both encompass a love story that is filled with tension, healing, and growth from both the male and female

And what I also take away from this...

SJM surprised her readers with ToD. Chaol was not mentioned at all in Empire of Storms, but she had always planned to bring him back into the story.

Could this have influenced the way she wrote Elucien in ACOWAR? I think so. She has put their relationship/development on the back burner since that book. There are clear parallels between the two ships, and I wouldn't be surprised if Chaolrene foreshadows a similar path for Elucien.

In terms of what their book will be like....but also how their book will come to be...

Meaning that just because Elain/Lucien were largely missing from ACOSF/HOFAS, she is likely taking her inspiration from ToD (which she was writing when she was in peak Elucien mode in ACOWAR)...and has been intentionally planning the timing of their story.

And just like she did with Chaol/Yrene, she'll pull them back into the story when you least expect it. After everything with Nesta/Az/Crossover....I think this means in this next book.

#elucien meta #elucien #pro elucien #acowar #acotar 6 #acotar predictions #i really believe with my whole heart elucien is next #i just wanted to share something i realized today that deepened that belief #chaol x yrene #tower of dawn #sjm told us the plane taxi metaphor remember #tod is the perfect example of that #throne of glass #tog x acotar #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra

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rotisserory · 27 days ago

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Aventurine Is BPD Coded- Some Thoughts

Ahhh welcome back everybody to another installment of 'Rory writes a ridiculously long essay nobody asked for to shine light on characters who exhibit symptoms of borderline personality disorder so that we can learn to recognize symptoms portrayed in media that aren't just 'crazy manipulative abusive ex' and start to treat the disorder with a shred of compassion' !!

A good chunk of you follow me because of my essay I wrote on Reo Mikage from Blue Lock, my beautiful borderline princess, and I am PLEASED to announce that my essay is now the first result when you search 'Reo Mikage BPD' on Google, AND he has since been added to the BPD character database !! Saving the world one baddie at a time, no need to thank me B)

Today, I want to write something out that I've been dying to share. I think Aventurine can be read as a BPD coded character, and I think he would be able to cop a diagnosis should he go see a therapist (which we all know he CLEARLY has not done). I've been puttering around posting this because I've been spending so long on a full, all encompassing analysis of this sick blonde man, but I want to take a quick break and kick my feet over BPD Aventurine, so I invite you to come kick your feet with me!

Some context before I start:

1.) Borderline representation is extremely important to me. I've got the BPD / CPTSD combo meal, so I'm having TWICE the fun !! But seriously though, it's not easy being viewed as crazy and 'bad' all the time. Trauma disorders are rough enough as it is just to live with / overcome, but it's worse when there are books, forums, blogs, shows, ect. dedicated to hating you and talking about how evil you are. So, I get really excited when I spy BPD-coded characters (especially if they're likable people and not just ghoulish irredeemable villains or manic pixie dream girl characters). Fans, characters, and even Aventurine himself refer to him as 'crazy' 'insane' 'unstable' which only further rang my BPD bells because he's not crazy; he's just traumatized!

2.) I’m not a psych, so I obviously can’t diagnose real people, and don’t use any of this to diagnose yourself (I don't need the scandal!) I do, however, have a masters degree in English and structured the basis of my education and published my thesis on mental health, cluster B personality disorders specifically, so I read and research a LOT. I’m confident enough in my knowledge to diagnose anime characters (lol).

3.) If you're somebody who has a weird hangup about borderlines, feel free to either not read this, or do read it and soak up some useful information! Regardless, I know Aventurine fans can have some really wild takes (/neg) , so believe what you want at the end of the day! This is just my interpretation of what's festering in that sad brain of his. You can disagree all you want to, but what we're not going to do is spread hateful stereotypes or perpetuate negative stigmas about BPD! That's cornball behavior and I will call you out for it ^-^

CW for discussion of death, suicide, self injury, and identity disturbances

Anyways, if you ask me, Aventurine has a case of Beautiful Princess Disorder, and I'd like to explain why <3 So, buckle up! This will be another long one.

First, let me define BPD: it's a personality disorder characterized by a long-standing pattern of instability in mood, interpersonal relationships, and self-image. Though it's coined as a 'personality disorder', I urge you to look at it as a trauma disorder. People most often develop it when they are repeatedly traumatized during their formative years. It actually overlaps a TON with complex post traumatic stress disorder, which is why a lot of us baddies end up with both! (On that note, you could definitely view Aventurine as CPTSD-coded as well! I'm a stinky kinnie so I'll just say he's both <3) I won't preach too much on why it's so necessary to treat borderline as a traumatic stress disorder (since hopefully I'll be focusing my own personal academic research on that and I could yap for HOURS about it lol).

But when we look at BPD properly, it's evident that the basis of this disorder is that these people didn't have the opportunity to learn and foster proper emotional reactions. Because of the recurring traumatic events, sections of borderline's brains are underdeveloped as a result. They have a smaller amygdala and they have reduced volume in the prefrontal cortex, as well as other differences in brain development. I've heard it described as 'you were forced to learn some behaviors that helped you survive at one point in your life (for example, maybe fervent efforts to avoid abandonment, unstable emotional reactions, self harming tendencies, lying, mirroring, etc.,) but now you need to unlearn them, because they’re no longer helping you.' They're trauma responses.

Aventurine shows us a perfect example of the kind of shit that would make someone develop BPD: dude grew up in extreme poverty, was constantly told he was special and he was supposed to bring good luck, watched his entire family and race die in front of him when he was literally still just a kid, was kidnapped and sold into slavery, was forced to murder roughly 34 people while everybody watched him like it was a game, probably went through several other fucked up things while he was enslaved, and then killed his slave owner and was promptly sentenced to death for it. That's...a whole lot of ridiculous trauma that would severely impact somebody's ability to mentally grow and develop correctly. The bulk of his childhood/adolescence was spent with no safety, no security, overwhelming guilt, constant fight or flight reactions, learning how to take on other personas to avoid violence or mistreatment – you get the point. He did not have a normal life and it is absolutely probable that he would develop a trauma disorder from the shit he's been through.

So then, what behaviors/signs does somebody need to exhibit to receive a Borderline diagnosis? The 9 diagnostic criteria for BPD are as follows:

1. Fear of abandonment

2. Unstable or changing relationships

3. Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

4. Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors

5. Suicidal behavior or self-injury

6. Varied or random mood swings

7. Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

8. Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

9. Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

As with my last post, I'm going to organize this based on the 5 immediate traits I think Aventurine exhibits most (you only need 5 out of 9 to receive a diagnosis, so let me cut to the chase and stop wasting your time w my yapping).

Fear of Abandonment:

Aventurine has a habit of wanting relationships and then pushing them away once they get too close. He also clearly has trauma associated with losing people prematurely.

First of all, let's look at Aventurine's tendency to view relationships as transactional. With the expectation that a friendship, partnership – whatever – is mutually beneficial, that generally implies both parties will leave satisfied once the 'transaction' is complete. That’s his parting line in the game, actually! “Satisfied with our transaction, I trust?”

That being said, he's already prepared for people to leave when they're done getting what they want from him. In one trailer (and the game) he refers to himself as "another cog in the machine known as the strategic investment department" and then says, "Your humble servant aventurine at your disposal [...] I can also play the role of ‘friend’ – if needed; Go ahead, use me as you wish, even stab me in the back if you see fit."

This is a very strange thing to say upon first meeting someone LMAO. He's speaking of himself like he's an object, rather than a person. Before the other party even says anything, he's basically saying 'hey btw if you end up disappointing me in some way, i'm already prepared for it!' Establishing relationships with the assumption that the other person will betray you/abandon you/hurt you in some way? Borderline behavior. God forbid somebody does try to break down one of these walls, we'll see Aventurine's second habit to avoid abandonment: pushing people away.

Something people don't necessarily consider is that ‘efforts to avoid abandonment’ doesn't always mean the person is on their knees begging you to not to leave them. It can manifest as someone being very flighty and purposefully cutting ties randomly/pushing people away from them so that nobody is able to abandon them. If you leave first, they can’t leave you, right? This is a very common behavior for borderlines to avoid the pain that comes with being abandoned.

The most notable moment of this, in my opinion, is when Aventurine tries to gaslight himself into thinking that Ratio really did stab him in the back during their ploy against Sunday. As we know, their fighting, bickering, and Ratio's 'betrayal' were all part of Aventurine's plan. When they leave Sunday's office, Ratio immediately asks if he's okay and if he needs help, and Aventurine is very dismissive/a little rude in his response. Ratio is confused because Aventurine is talking as if he wasn't the one who MADE this plan and TOLD Ratio what to do:

Aventurine is basically saying, "Hey babe this is not in the script we talked about! Let's stay on track, remember? You hate me, you betrayed me, and now you're leaving me!" And Ratio is like "Yeah okay but are you good? Because you don't seem good,” but Aventurine's heels are so far in the dirt at this point that he is NOT budging at all. When he's in the Trauma Maze, Future Aventurine grills him on this moment:

I get why this part confused some people; why would Aventurine think this when the plan was his idea in the first place? Because, he subconsciously doesn't want to get too attached to the idea that Ratio might ACTUALLY care about him or want to help him. He's forcing himself to think "no, that's not what he was doing, he was planning on actually ratting me out all along, he was only asking about my wellbeing to get in my head."

However, I think it's evident that Aventurine wants relationships/attention just as much as everybody else does, he just won't let himself have it. To further this idea, I think the lyrics to White Night (the Penacony trailer theme song) are worth looking at (these specifically):

I don't wanna be alone tonightOh, lead me with your altered signThere's no one else left for me to loseHeadin' to the other side, other side

I don't wanna be alone tonightI'll bring you to my best disguise'Cause you don't need, don't need to know the truthLet me rave forever in your life

The song is obviously about Aventurine when you look at the lyrics, but these lines in particular just further my point that this man does NOT like the fact that he's alone. He wants relationships, he wants closeness, but he rejects it at the same time out of fear that he might lose somebody prematurely again and doesn't want to experience being abandoned or being rejected for his personality (his real one or his fake one), which leads me to...

Unstable Self-Image; Struggles With Identity or Sense of Self:

The shift from Kakavasha to Aventurine screwed this guy up REAL bad. A MASSIVE part of Aventurine's character, in my opinion, is his struggle with his identity/sense of self. I mean, he literally had to kill off who he used to be in order to live how he's living now, and he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Jade sums it up pretty well when Aventurine is sat before her on trial:

Aventurine joining the IPC comes with the price of...well, becoming 'Aventurine'. Since I'm clocking him with a BPD diagnosis, the identity disturbance would have probably happened before this moment, and I think it did. I'll bet it started festering after that first massive traumatic event where he watched his family die and tried to rationalize how that was possible with his 'good luck' (since that was really the only consistent idea he had about himself), and it probably only got worse when he became fixated on the fact that whoever tf he is, he's only worth 60 copper coins (did the math – that's about $3). That's gotta cause some massive identity issues. He's coined as this ‘good luck charm’, this ‘blessed child’, a ‘beacon of hope for the Avgins’, and somehow, he ended up in the absolute worst situation possible while simultaneously dooming all of the Avgins (obviously not his fault, but he thinks it's his fault).

When Jade tells him to pick a new identity, ironically he picks one that is everything he probably grew to hate after his childhood/adolescence.

Associating with the wealthy? The rich were the people who paid to brand him and enslave him. The IPC? Promised to help the Avgins but disappeared when the Katicans invaded, then came back and kidnapped him to sell him as a slave. Now he's both wealthy and a part of the IPC, and you have to wonder how he truly feels about it. We'll look into that more later. Regardless, he's not really 'free' now, even if he isn't technically owned by a master anymore. He's chained to the IPC because this is life now; this is his identity. Where else would he even go? What else would he do? (Die, perhaps?) It's not like he can go home, or go live a peaceful life out on the countryside somewhere. He made 'Aventurine' his entire life and his entire personality. On that note, I really like this quote from his third character story:

“The aventurine, that symbol of power and of the future, is about to be officially handed to him — Yet it would have no more allure or value in his eyes as soon he obtains it, even though he had sought it by putting his life on the line.

He returns to his office in a daze. The aventurine stone emits a peculiar glow on his desk, seemingly congratulating and mocking him at the same time."Was luck truly on your side when you wrestled with fate?"”

Did he really luck out with this one? Comparatively, of course, this is better than his life as a slave, but he essentially just traded his rusted chains for golden ones. Becoming Aventurine might wind up bringing him a lot more pain than it was worth.

Also, the outfit he chose? Covered in gold, fur, and jewels, all materials that somebody who knows nothing about being rich would assume rich people wear in excess. It's evident in his tacky taste (sorry honey I love you so much but the hat is just crazy work you look like a pimp) that he doesn't know anything about how to dress himself. And I bully him for being tacky but it makes sense! He dresses exactly how you'd think an out-of-touch billionaire would dress. Back to his sense of identity: it's very important to establish that Aventurine feels guilty about taking on this persona! That's all 'Aventurine' is: a persona. If he were to die tomorrow, the IPC would dust off that stone and give it to another bozo who would end up being the next 'Aventurine'.

While he didn't initially develop this personality subconsciously and it was a 'choice' to start playing this role (not that he had a plethora of alternative options), the perpetuation is damaging him mentally. He does a good job of keeping up the act, obviously. This theme that his entire personality is just one big act is overarching through the entire Penacony quest, but there's one moment in particular I really liked: when Sparkle is being a jerk and he has this offhand comment about how he's so frivolous, vain, and flashy, and how he'd hate to live anywhere where it rained since his outfit is too expensive to get wet.

Then, we have this interaction in the maze: Future Aventurine brings up the memory of him and his big sister playing dead, floating in bloody water to avoid being killed by the Katicans when they attacked. He mentions that it was his father's shirt, the last one his father left behind before dying, and that it was ruined. Aventurine says it wasn't ruined, and he's always kept it. (I wonder if that's the shirt he wore during his time enslaved?) Future Aventurine grills him and asks ‘why keep it? This new person that you are would never wear something so dirty and old. 'Aventurine' wouldn't want that old rag, it's not worth any money. 'Aventurine' would never splash around in murky water like that; he wouldn't need to.’ Nobody is hunting him, now he's the hunter. Future Aventurine makes the snide comment that he bets Aventurine wouldn't even dare to go outside in the rain, let alone do any of the things Kakavasha had to do, since he's so much more elite now. Aventurine, clearly hurt by the implication, says that even after all this time, he's never changed.

Of course, he hasn't. Deep down, no matter how much he tries to trick himself and everybody around him, he's still the same scared, traumatized boy he always has been. His future self chastises him for having an inferiority complex and mentions that with every gamble he makes, he has his left hand shaking in fear behind his back.

But the constant pull to push Kakavasha down and keep up this act that 'Aventurine' is the real him obviously perpetuated the identity disturbance in him and made it a hundred times worse, to the point where (as Future Aventurine points out) the hole he's dug is basically impossible to climb out of.

Because of this, I interpret Aventurine to constantly be struggling with his identity, not knowing who really exists under all the masks he wears, not knowing if he or anybody around him will ever figure it out. I imagine he feels very empty and unfulfilled, since as I mentioned in the abandonment section, he doesn't want to be alone. But the higher he climbs on the social ladder, the further he can separate himself from other people. This is a classic issue borderlines face. We masquerade as something we think the people around us will like, someone WE might like, but it always ends up leaving us feeling more empty than before.

(This is just an added bonus to chew on, but I got stuck on this line when I played through Penacony:)

Do you think once he became Aventurine and got the money and the resources, he researched toys that normal kids play with? Fancy ones like building blocks, stuff that he would have never been exposed to as a kid? Obviously baby Kakavasha would not know wtf building toys looked like, and I'm sure teenage Kakavasha didn't have the opportunity to browse toy catalogs. But, he recognizes the toy even though he says he's never played with them before. Maybe he considered buying it but decided against it, since it doesn't fit his new persona. Kakavasha doesn't exist anymore, so there's no reason to nurture that part of him. Anyways, just wanted to hurt y'all a bit more. Speaking of hurting ourselves:

Impulsive or Self-Damaging Behaviors + Suicidal Behavior or Self Injury:

I'm combining these two because my points kept blending together, so bear with me lol.

Aventurine is known for being incredibly reckless and putting himself in the path of danger over and over again. When discussing how he tricked Sunday with the Cornerstones, Future Aventurine asks:

I want to exaggerate how crazy it is (i can say that i'm also a bpd baddie) that he smashed his Cornerstone. I don't think a Stoneheart has ever done that before. Their stone is what makes them a Stoneheart. Ratio mentions that without it, Aventurine would be back to being nobody. Remember: that's what makes him Aventurine. You know, the persona that required him to kill off his former identity? Their Cornerstones are more important than the Stonehearts’ lives, as stated multiple times. But that's just it: Aventurine doesn't GAF about his life. He doesn't mind putting his life on the line to pull off his plan because he has that deep-rooted desire to punish himself for everything he thinks was his fault. He gets called out for gambling with his life multiple times during Penacony, and while most of the time it's reduced to him just being crazy (cough, bpd) or just having a severe gambling problem. Extremely hot take, but I think he gambles literally as another way to hurt himself. I mean, look at what he says when you ask about his hobbies:

"There's no denying it, my fascination is with the game of chance... be it the exhilarating rush of triumph or the extensive emptiness that follows, both are worth savoring, time and time again."

Being impulsive and risky, betting his life over and over – it makes him feel alive. He knows the end result will hurt, that he'll have to face that 'extensive emptiness' and the extreme guilt he feels regarding his continued good luck, but he does it anyway.

Speaking of betting, his bets are always 'all or nothing', seemingly every time. Future Aventurine calls him out on always risking everything with every gamble, asking:

"Do you truly believe the greater the risk, the greater the reward?"

Or...do you just not care what happens to you? He doesn't need to risk a lot; he's never lost. He could bet the lowest amount and still win every time, and make a lot of money depending on what everybody else bet. In fact, that would actually be a better strategy in gambling (poker/black jack specifically), because it would insinuate that he's not very confident with his hand and prompt the other players to bet higher, assuming that they'll beat him.

I imagine he gets a shred of dopamine betting everything he has knowing that he'll probably win, but hey, who knows? Then after winning and multiplying everything he has, I imagine that 'extensive emptiness' that he refers to is the feeling of 'oh good, more money. More status. More success. A reminder that no matter what I do, I'm stuck here in this role forever.'

For some reason, he also thinks that taking risks makes him appear more confident and secure. He makes a show of always keeping up the big bets and he boasts about how successful he is, while clutching his hand behind his back thinking 'oh god, is this it? will I finally lose this time?' He brings this up when he's speaking with himself and he says, 'How could a weak person take such daring risks?"

Oh, the delicious irony.

That raises the question, though: if he wants to die so badly, why hasn't he yet? It's not like he had an easy life. He fought very hard to stay alive, so why does he act so recklessly now?

I think at his core, he's scared. Dying is scary. His family is there in the afterlife; would they be disappointed in the person he’s become? At the same time, being alive is exhausting. The constant emotional pain this guy probably deals with every day? It's gotta be heavy.

His behaviors around suicide remind of a classic passively suicidal person with BPD: maybe they don't necessarily want to die, but they're tired. They don't have an active plan, but If something is going to kill them, they're not going to move out of the way.

So, carrying out his Penacony plan makes sense. Of course he’s not completely sure what will happen when Acheron kills him, but because he doesn’t have anything to live for, he’s fine gambling with his life. He makes a show of finally throwing out every last chip, too, no longer clutching them under the table in fear. He was fine with smashing the Aventurine stone because it's not like he was planning on using it after his final show; the little bit of power it had left in it was more than enough.

That being said, we do have to address this little number:

Aventurine attempted several times in Penacony, he admits it flat out. The writers even went sofar as to bold this line specifically! I think this does also go hand-in-hand with him being passively suicidal, since he's pretty sure he'll live when he attempts in the dream, but he's gonna try it SEVERAL times just to be sure. Mentally healthy people wouldn't try it... once, Aventurine!

As if we needed more evidence that Aventurine constantly puts himself in danger, you know I HAVE to mention...the light cone:

n case you haven't read the description for this light cone, let me share it with you:

"You don't believe me?"He (Aventurine) provocatively looks at the man (Ratio) before him, then draws out a revolver, empties its cylinder, and leaves a single shot in the chamber.

"Seems like I'll need to get you up to speed on how I do things if our cooperation were to remain amicable."He pushes the gun into his opponent's hand, spins the cylinder, and points the barrel to his own chest.

He pulls the trigger repeatedly, and the smile on his face remains the same after three empty clicks."Life is a grand gamble, and I'll always be the final victor."

Now what the HELL is this? Mind you, this is the first time Ratio has met this man!!! Imagine you meet your new mission partner for the first time and he puts a revolver in your hand and fires it thrice, then leaves. WHO does that? (...a baddie, perhaps!)

I don't think it's a secret to anybody who has spent a reasonable amount of time around Aventurine that there's something off about him, and that there's a really deep sadness running through him. There's some instances where other characters mention his passive desire to die – A few quick examples I can think of:

The instance in Story IV with Opal:

"Maybe luck won't be on your side this time, and the bill for all your past good fortune will come due [...] But isn't that what you've been longing for?"

Opal implies Aventurine wants to fail on Penacony, which, as we've discussed, is an accurate assumption. Jade says something similar after Aventurine's stunt: when Topaz says the light in his stone went out, Jade replies by saying "he got what he wanted."

Also, I’d like to point out that Ratio must have been anticipating that Aventurine would do something rash, since he wrote that note (doctor's advice) long before he started grilling him after the meeting with Sunday.

It's also worth noting the nod to T.S Eliot's "The Waste Land" (a very long poem about life and death). You get the achievement Sibyl, What Do You Want? after playing through the past of Kakavasha's life, and once you defeat boss Aventurine, you get the achievement She Replied, I Want to Die. I don't think that one needs an explanation, but boy does it hurt! (There's other, smaller nods to him being suicidal, like the Waiting for Godot achievement – Google the story if you're unfamiliar. Not as relevant, but I must mention it bc it makes my english major brain go brrrrr)

Also, overspending/gambling/being loose with money is a very common vice for borderlines to indulge in and harm themselves with. It's also implied that he drinks a decent amount. I counted 6 bottles of SoulGlad in his hotel room just from the angles I could see, and he's shown to be passed out at the bar when Ratio goes to get him before they go on their little date-I mean, mission. Aventurine says 'he must have drank too much', and whether or not that was true is irrelevant since it was a believable enough claim that Ratio bought it.

Borderlines are (usually) self-destructive in some capacity, and while some very annoying people assume it's for attention, it's so much more common for it to be because our inner emotions are just so out of whack. Sometimes, matching the inner pain with outer pain is a way to cope. They might also do it to try and combat-

Constant Feelings of Worthlessness or Sadness:

Probably the most nagging, prevalent feeling Aventurine deals with is the constant feeling of worthlessness. One thing about this man? He hates himself. Like, really hates himself. Take a look at the missions during his maze in Penacony. This one is one of my favorites:

It doesn't get much more on-the-nose than him calling himself a selfish, useless loser. He gets stuck on that word, in particular. Loser.

Aventurine, at his core, views himself as a massive loser. Is that ironic because of how much he wins? Not really. Money and materials are just part of the Aventurine persona. He's 'rich' in stuff, but he's not rich in what he actually wants. I think it's obvious that if he had the option to quadruple his wealth or see his sister again just one more time, we all know what he'd be picking.

The only thing he wants is connection – connection with his mother, his father, his sister, anybody at this point – but he can't have it. His family has been dead for a long while, and as I discussed before, his fear of abandonment and his luck scare him away from forming any other relationships.

This luck, this destiny to be blessed, leads him to reflect on his life a lot and wonder what the hell the point is. He treats himself like some sort of walking curse, because he's convinced that his luck is bound to hurt other people. Every time he wins, somebody else loses. The luck that keeps him safe destroys everybody else around him. As Future Aventurine puts it:

His luck is "built on the pain of someone" else. This perpetuates the constant feeling of guilt, which in turn, makes him feel worthless. Why is it him that's spared every time?

Then, right before you start his boss fight, Aventurine says,

"The architect's flawed stone, of no value at all."

Some people speculate he's talking to the MC when he says this, but I can't help but assume that he's referring to himself. Even if it was directed at the MC, so much of what Aventurine says in his bluffs and boasts are just digs at himself. He's sort of an expert at hating himself, and what do people who hate themselves do if not project? Especially when you consider the fact that aventurine is actually a really cheap, undesired stone. It's like $3 a caret and mostly only used to rip people off and pose as jade. I really don't think it's a coincidence that his character is based around a stone that is, essentially, worthless.

The way that Aventurine is also prone to giving people ridiculous amounts of money/gifts can be read as a frantic effort to keep relationships going and prevent people from leaving him (relating to my points on both his feelings of worthless and his fear of abandonment). He has a skewed view on relationships, since the only value that's ever been associated with him is monetary value and that of his 'luck', which in every context is spoken of as an asset to benefit people he cares about. His sister told him that his luck was 'the most precious wealth' of the Avgins and Jade sees him as an investment that can bring her more wealth because of his luck, but he views it as a massive burden that ends up wrecking everybody around him. So how does he prove to other people that someone as worthless as him should be allowed a seat at the table? Deep down, he thinks that he's still worth 60 red copper pieces, and he's desperate to show other people that he's worth more than that now – even though he doesn't believe it at his core. With all the money he wins now, he can throw it at people and say 'look, look how much money I'm worth now, you want me around because I can buy you anything you want, that's a useful quality in a friend!'

(I did use the 'seat at the table line' as a nod to what his slave master said to him when they were discussing his worth: "Don't forget your place, slave. You're not qualified to be at the table." Which is, painfully, what Aventurine says when you open up chests! He scoffs and says that "it's hardly enough for a seat at the table." :’) )

There is also, of course, Aventurine's overarching struggle with finding purpose in his life. We see a lot of his existentialism during his trauma maze, but at the end of his trauma maze, Future Aventurine finally stops ripping Aventurine a new one and is vulnerable for a second, saying he doesn't understand what he's ever done wrong to have suffered as much as he has.

Then, when he's in the Nihility and he's speaking to Acheron, making the decision on whether or not he even wants to keep going, he asks her:

As I said, he has this conversation with himself in the maze as well, but here he's actually being vulnerable and speaking to somebody else about it: what's the point in being alive if we're just born to suffer? If nothing else, this solidifies the emotional struggle that Aventurine is constantly having. I also think it furthers the idea that he has this nagging sort of emptiness inside of him which is another BPD trait: the feeling that you're empty at your core, and you're constantly trying to fill it with things (friends, money, substances, whatever) but nothing ever works. You worry if anything will ever make you feel 'whole' again, and pair with the the identity disturbance? You're left with a constant feeling of despair.

Other Points:

These are a few other random thoughts I have, inspired by in-game moments but I'm taking them for my own evil fiendish BPD narrative. Take them with a grain of salt.

I think the stigma he gets around 'being crazy' is really BPD-coded. Separate from the ridiculous discrimination he gets for being an Avgin where people assume he's a liar and wolf in sheep's clothing (which can this man catch a SINGLE break jfc), he also has this reputation of being crazy, insane, manipulative, cunning, and someone you want to avoid, which is more rooted in his reckless gambling habit and status with the IPC. Living with this reputation of being insane and unstable for...lowkey no reason at all? Very BPD coded. I think Aventurine leans into that stigma to keep people a certain distance away, but it also just ends up making him hate himself even more.

Also, his entire mantra is "all or nothing", which always rang my BPD bells as well. There's not a lot of gray area with him, which is a key trait in borderlines as we often display very black-and-white thought patterns.

In Conclusion:

I think Aventurine is a borderline princess <3

No but actually though, Aventurine is extremely smart, witty, funny, generous, and very kind-hearted, and he also happens to have a lot of BPD symptoms :^) I don't think it does any harm to view him as BPD-coded; in fact, I think it's great to associate positive, fan-favorite characters like this with BPD because it helps to humanize us. Borderlines are not violent, crazy maniacs, they're people who have been severely traumatized and developed some unhealthy habits because of it. They deserve love, respect, understanding, and communication, just as everybody else does.

If you actually made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope I was able to shed some light on Aventurine and his Symptoms. And, as I do in all of my BPD posts, here’s your reminder to kiss the borderline baddies in your life and tell them they’re important to you :^) Living with BPD is exhausting and I know I speak for all of us when I say that. We try so hard every day to stay positive and regulated, and though rewarding, it's exhausting and very hard work. Nothing makes us smile more than some recognition that we're trying our best !!

Till next time xoxo (and shout out to @roxirinart for helping me edit this monstrosity mwahhh mwah)

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #hsr #bpd #borderline personality disorder #analysis #character analysis

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entry-85 · 1 day ago

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Tangy Delectibility | Vampire!Alex Kralie x Jay Merrick

jaylex | vampire au | 2k words | 16+

this isn't a masterpiece, I literally wrote this in probably an hour but I'm on a jaylex and a writing kick.

vaguely based off of @creative-clawmarks's liveleak au (au on the brain chat)

not really canon correlated.

The apartment was dim, the only light leaking through being the kitchen light some feet away from where they sat, providing just little enough light for Alex’s eyes not to feel like they were burning out of his sockets and just enough for Jay to see him. They sat in mostly silence, so much so you could hear a pin drop into the carpet— Or, at least, Alex could.

His arms were wrapped around Jay’s waist, head tilted slightly up to stare blankly at the barren ceiling of his apartment, trying to ignore how the other male was trying to weasel his way into getting bitten onto. This was just how their relationship was; When exactly it had started he couldn't fully pinpoint, but ever since that first bite, both of them were thoroughly hooked— though Alex refused to admit he was, he didn't rely on Jay’s blood to get by, it was just a treat— It was just something he could look forward to weekly in his boring and frankly irritating life. Jay however, he was completely reliant on the toxin that would seep from Alex’s fangs, psychologically dependent on the effects of it that would render him damn near paralyzed. It wasn't even addictive, yet anyone who saw Jay coming after it every week would probably assume it was. Hell, maybe Jay was just that pathetic.

Alex could feel the boy pushing his head into the crook of his neck, and he couldn't help but let out a low sigh as their skin brushed together. He had been ignoring the others desperate attempts to get his fix, opting to act like nothing was happening courtesy of the pounding headache pressurizing the inside of his skull right now. He could only take so much bright fluorescent lighting, loud garbles of everyone’s overlapping voices, and 3 hours of getting his head slammed with knowledge and things to remember before he had enough, and he had nearly forgotten that Jay was even coming over until he heard the knock at his door because of it. He knew it would be best to just stop stalling, alleviate his pain with his favourite nutrient source and give Jay exactly what he wanted in turn— But God, he was procrastinating. Hard.

“Alex..”

His thoughts were broken apart before he could continue his ridiculous conundrum of being too damn lazy to get what he needed when it was right in front of him by the sound of what he needed right in front of him, eyes finally tearing away from burning holes into the ceiling to glance down at the heap of brown hair at the bottom his vision. Jay’s voice was slightly muffled, shivers being sent down Alex’s spine as his lips brushed against the skin of his neck. Damn tease.

“You okay?” He continued, his voice gradually drawing off into a whine before he pressed a kiss into Alex’s neck. He swore, Jay got on his damn nerves sometimes, but God, everyone did. He didn't think a person walked on this planet that couldn't piss him off at this point.

He let out a sigh he didn't know he had been holding, combing his fingers through the others hair after shifting his eyes away from him. Jay hadn't done anything particularly wrong besides be worried, and needy, he really didn't have any reason to be getting upset at him. God, maybe he did just need to eat— Or, well, drink.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He breathed out in yet another sigh, like the first one hadn’t fully made its escape yet. “Just.. tired.” He excused, his shoulders sagging a little. He wondered if Jay could see right through him, right though his ‘just tired’ umbrella excuse he used to brush off everything. Was he tired? Probably, but he was damn irritated and his head was killing him and he was probably starving by now. He probably could— They’ve known each other for, what, 5 some years now?-

Yet again, his thought train derailed suddenly as he felt a hand press against him right at the bottom of his ribcage. He felt himself jolt, a heat coming to his face that he would rather die than keep feeling— “I know what could make you feel better..”— Filled his ears, the most allusive words said in the meekest of voices. He hated when Jay did that, he knew the other knew what he was doing, saying things like that acting all innocent. He was a hell of a lot more of a string-puller than people gave him credit for, that was for sure. He just couldn’t be patient, could he?-

The slightly shorter male lifted himself from where he was tucked in Alex’s neck, tilting his head in such a way to reveal more skin, skin that was adorned with the light scarring of every other time Alex sunk his teeth in. God, he really needed to be more careful about that, he couldn't just let Jay walk around looking like he got attacked or something—

A hand slid up on his shoulder, fingertips subtly brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Jay’s eyes said it all— He knew what he wanted, he knew what Alex needed, and he knew that they both knew. It made the blond question if he should just give in, if he should have given in hours ago– If he should just stop being stubborn and give his body what it needed, especially since Jay was offering himself so willingly.

“Hungry?” Jay broke their silence, pulling at the collar of his own shirt to show more of his skin, the tendons moving visibly under his flesh and making him all the more appealing. Alex felt his eyes narrow right on the spot he knew gave him the best results, his hunger awakening like a beast stirring from a long sleep. He suddenly wanted nothing more but to lunge at the other, taste the tang of his flavour and—

No, no, he needed to stop himself there. Jay didn't control him and he certainly didn't need his offers. Besides, he should probably just wean off of this whole thing now, before he seriously couldn't control himself anymore. Surely, if he just learned to live without the taste of blood in his mouth, he’d stop having such urges, right? If he caught it early?

“No, I’m fine.” His voice rang out, sterner than he probably intended. He casted his gaze off again, not wanting to feel his own resolve crumble the moment he looked into Jay’s heavy lidded eyes. But even as he avoided eye contact, he could feel the others' stare bore into him. He didn't buy it, but hell, did Alex even believe himself?

“You're always hungry.” He filled the silence, the words making Alex’s lips purse. Yeah, he probably was. There was probably never a moment where he wasn't smelling blood, hearing everyone’s heartbeat over his own that had faded out by now, never a moment where the urge ebbed at the back of his mind— But he’d probably tuned it out. Years of doing that with humanly food had prepared him well for becoming an eldritch monster, who would have thought?

He let out a sigh through his nose, weighing his options. Would it make much of a difference if he gave in one last time, as long as he kept himself in check later? Jay was offering, he wanted it just as much as Alex did. What would the harm be? He just wouldn't take as much blood this time..

He casted his gaze over, narrowed eyes staring deep into Jay’s green ones, fighting to not fall over the skin of his neck that his peripheral was honed in on. It would get rid of his headache, that was a benefit, right? It was the only thing that would help, he knew that.. What choice did he have?

“Fine. Just a little.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot on the couch under the bleek weight of Jay. He could have sworn he saw his eyes light up from the corner of his eye, but he casted that thought aside in favour of moving his hands to press flush against Jay’s lower back, pressing him a little closer. Jay moved without a fight, draping his head over Alex’s shoulder to angle the skin of his neck parallel with his teeth. Alex’s eyes bore into exactly where he wanted to bite— The fleshy part right in front of the largest tendon. That part always gave him the best results.

They sat in unmoving silence for a moment, Jay’s breath quietly sounding out as it fanned across Alex’s own neck. He let his hunger build, the pressure soon filling out his gums as his fangs protracted in, pupils dilating while the clawing ache of fervour dug into his being. This is what Jay asked for, and he would give him what he wanted.

After what could only have felt like ages, he leaned forward, wetting the skin with his tongue just to give the briefest of warning before sinking his teeth in, moving with Jay as he tensed. This was a delicate procedure— He wasn't looking to rip his throat out with his teeth, afterall. They just had to keep still for a little longer..

Once he tasted the tangy, copper flavour of liquid seeping past his teeth, he knew he hit the right spot. He retracted them, only to latch right back onto his skin, licking at the blood beading out. He could hear Jay’s hitched breath, feeling the way his throat and chest stuttered each time, but he ignored it to focus instead on the eye-rolling delectability of the others blood, his hands moving to grip his hips to keep him in place.

He could feel Jay’s growing limpness as the toxin worked its magic to fill his mind with haziness, his head dropping down fully onto his shoulder as Alex sucked down the blood until he was sure it would stop pouring. He could feel the pressure in his head ease up, his irritation being smoothed over by the calming balm he was drinking down. When he was satisfied, he moved back, soothing the bite wound with his tongue to numb the pain soon and, hopefully, not leave too big of a scar. Who knew you’d get a free neomycin built into your saliva when you're turned into a beast? Definitely not Alex.

He moved away, his back resting against the couch yet again as he casted his gaze over at the male in his lap, watching as he swayed before falling limp against his chest. He moved a hand up, combing through the back of his hair. “Happy now?” He questioned, his voice now smooth without the migraine and irritation ebbing behind every word. Jay didn't reply anything besides a grunt, but that was all he needed to do. Alex knew the answer, he knew it was a yes, because it was always a yes.

He let his head lean back against the couch as he basked in the newfound relief flooding through his head, the metallic taste still coating the roof of his mouth. He should have just done this hours ago— Maybe he wouldn't have been so pissy the whole time. He continued going through the motions of his “I can't believe I was so stupid” self lecture, unbeknownst to the fact that his talking blood supply was sliding off of his lap until he heard the sound of his knees hitting against the carpeted-over concrete floor. The sound made Alex cringe slightly— He may have built up a higher tolerance now, but he knew good and well what that felt like.

His eyes traced back over to where Jay now sat between his legs on the floor, observing him to see if this was a complete accident or his own doing. It was a valid response, Jay had learned how to navigate the heavy stupor of the toxin by now, and he had interesting desires and even more interesting ways of going about getting them. Alex learned over the years not to question it, and he especially didn't now when he felt the pressure of Jay’s head resting against his stomach, eyes closed and body heavy. He stayed still for just another beat of silence, before lacing his fingers back through the others hair, letting him stay there for the time being. Both of them were satisfied, and he was sure both of them were content with being sat in comfortable silence instead of the usual tension.

He just had to hold back from doing this next time. Or, maybe the time after that instead..

#jaylex #alex kralie #jay merrick #Marble Hornets #vampire au #liveleak au #liveleak ending #vampire Alex Kralie heheheheheheheh #wow a fanfic #zekerwrites

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strawhbrrries · 2 years ago

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Three gifts and a kiss

pairing: reader x softish!joel miller

summary: three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart.

warnings: implied age gap (never mentioned), use of pet names (darlin’), straight fluff, no use of Y/N *please let me know if i forgot anything*

author’s note: this is my first real writing piece, outside of fanfic i wrote on wattpad when i was twelve, so please be kind with criticism! as much as i love smut i was too nervous to write it for my first post so i hope the fluff does justice. i really do hope you enjoy it! *not proofread*

word count: 2145 words

“Shh. Stop your fussing. I am just braiding your hair.” You teased, separating the three strands of hair you were overlapping into more organized strands to work with.

“It hurts!” Ellie whined, laying her head back in your lap to emphasize her point, bringing one her hands up to rub the side of her head to soothe the pain she swore up and down was the worst thing she ever felt.

Ellie was sat on the floor in between your legs reading whatever she had picked up off the end table when she came barging in your house demanding for her hair to be branded, something about how she had never learned and needed to be taught. Which was a big load of bullshit, as proved by the fact you were just braiding her hair and she wasn’t learning shit, well only half a load of bullshit as she truly had never learned.

Jackson wasn’t necessarily a boring place for you before Ellie and Joel showed up, but it wasn’t the most entertaining either. Bartending has its perks but outside of it, all the days blended together and were a never ending boring hell. The foul mouthed child made your days way more interesting, finding every excuse under the sun to find her way into your home. Not that you minded, but a knock would be nice every now and then. You enjoyed her company more than you expected when Tommy informed you that the empty house next door would be filled. You had actual friends your age, but most had adult responsibilities that started earlier in the day than yours did, besides Ellie being over occasionally meant Joel visiting to bring her home. Those were your favorite days.

The first time you ever met the infamous Joel Miller, is forever ingrained in your mind. His footsteps rattling through the house and the deepness of his voice as he called out for Ellie, you mentally noted that he was the reason she never knocked.

“In here Joel!” Ellie called out from your bedroom just up the stairs, giving you a look that expressed all her frustration of him just showing up.

“C’mon, dinners ready.” His voice carried through the house, not once had he really raised his voice since he showed up. His footsteps on the stairs sent her into a flurry to grab her things and go.

The two finger knock on the door captured your attention, never in your twenty years of living had you seen a man so attractive and he became so much more attractive the second he nodded his head in your direction. You knew it had been a long time when such a simple action made warmth flood your body.

“I’ll see you later, Ellie, hopefully the garden will be a bit more grown in soon so we can mess around in it !” You smiled, smoothing out the shirt you were wearing to try and make yourself more presentable for your unexpected handsome visitor. “It’s Joel, right?”

“Yeah, sorry it took so long to meet.” He spoke back, no emotion present. You added to your, short, mental notes about the man that he seemed almost robotic.

“‘s okay. Ellie said you’ve been pretty busy, I enjoy having her around. It was nice to meet you!” You spoke enthusiastically to try and elicit a response from him but all he did was nod his head out the door and left with Ellie trailing behind him. A frown and disappointment soon took over the warmth he had originally brought.

Joel never went out of his way to acknowledge you, sure he nodded his head every time you served him at the bar but unlike your other regulars he had no interest in your stories and new recipes. However, you always went out of your way to acknowledge him in subtle ways; always sending some leftovers home with Ellie, leaving a brand new guitar on his porch after Ellie told you he had broken his other one (admittedly, not your most subtle move), and a record of Linda Ronstadt with the words “I don’t need this back :)” scribbled on a piece of paper taped to it.

The leftovers he appreciated, not that he ever expressed his gratitude to you about it. They were nice after a long shift on patrol, especially so because he didn’t have to cook nor did he have to interact with people at the mess hall. He spoke more to you, kinder to you, after you started sending leftovers home with Ellie. You found him, much like Ellie, barging in more often and on one occasion found him in your garden inspecting the produce you had planted for the season.

“You’ve got weeds.” He’d mumble, as if he was genius of the year for that observation. “Prolly some bugs too.” Joel placed a hand on his knee and got up off the ground, standing awkwardly as he had previously planned to have been gone before you caught him here.

“By all means, if you can find insecticide that won’t cost me a fortune I would be forever indebted to you.” A chuckle slipped out at the thought that THE Joel Miller was in your garden going on about weeds. Life was weird sometimes. Your words earned you the first smile you’ve seen from the man, you thought about it every night from then on out. Joel, unbeknownst to you, thought of your giggle and the pretty blue sundress you had been wearing when you stumbled upon him every night.

The guitar, that one stirred up some trouble in the imaginary relationship you thought was going on with you and Mr. Miller. Ellie had come to help you cook and also gossip about Joel, you didn’t mind either, when he came storming in the house. You and Ellie exchanged a knowing look, but neither could’ve predicted the storm that was going to brew.

“Ellie. Go home.” His voice was low and his face mean. Everyone knew Joel Miller was a mean man but to be the person it was directed at, even worse.

“Wha- I’m just helping!” Ellie tried to plead her case, motioning to the half cut vegetables she was cutting.

“Go.”

Ellie, reluctantly, left which left you with the seething older man standing in your kitchen. Instead of speaking, you simply turned around to the vegetables Ellie just left and started chopping in hopes that maybe he would leave and you didn’t have to be the brunt of whatever anger he had about something you didn’t even know about!

“What did you trade.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and he expected an answer about point five seconds ago.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Also not a question, also a statement, most certainly a lie. You knew exactly what he was asking about, it was an act of kindness and you didn’t want to be scolded for caring about him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned over the kitchen table that sat in between the two of you and let out a sigh. “Let's cut to the chase, darlin’. What the fuck did you trade. Don’t fuck with me either ‘cus I know you’re smarter than that.”

“What I did or did not trade for the guitar is not your business, I was being nice, Joel. Hard for you to get used to, I know.” Your words came out a bit harsher than intended, you weren’t trying to be rude all you had intended to do was give him a new guitar after his had broken.

Instead of a rebuttal all you heard was his boots hitting the floor and the slam of your front door. You were too angry to cry, all you had tried to do was be kind. Had he been embarrassed? Embarrassed about what, that someone cares for him? You were too angry to chop, the fear of accidentally cutting off a finger was a bit too real at the moment, so you settled for half the usual vegetables.

You still put leftovers on his porch. No amount of anger, and sadness for what occurred, would stop you from caring about him.

He didn’t speak to you for eight days. Never showed up to coax Ellie home. Stopped playing his, new, guitar on the porch. For eight days he gave you the cold shoulder, it sucked. He only caved on the eighth day when he overheard your boss mention you had called out of work three days in a row, he couldn’t figure out why he cared but he did. He knocked on your door four times before you opened it.

“You look like shit.” His words robotic as ever.

“If you came to be rude, leave.” Your response was weak and quiet, your skin pale and visibly clammy. You had stressed yourself sick.

“What happened?” He brought his hand to your forehead and immediately felt the heat, surprised you hadn’t melted yet.

For the first time in over twenty years, Joel had taken care of someone. He slept in the uncomfortable chair that sat in the corner of your bedroom, refusing the bed or the couch. He reheated meals and even made some of his own to make sure you were fed, and hydrated. For the first time since you met, you felt that he truly cared. He even let his guard down enough to, begrudgingly almost so much he could’ve convinced someone he was forced to do it, lay with you when the blankets weren’t enough to fight off the shivers. Ellie teased him in the privacy of their home that he was developing a crush, and he was.

The Linda Ronstadt record was your most genius idea. When you had first met Ellie, she mentioned a cassette her and Joel listened to when they were first driving out here. You asked for the artist and her exact words were “I don't know. Linda blah blah blah.” The guitar incident was long forgotten so you figured gifts were pretty safe now. A coworker had mentioned trading a few records for some home cooked meals, and the stars aligned so perfectly that one of them happened to be the exact record Ellie had spoken about (or so you hoped).

Joel frequented your place more often, he found your company more appealing than his own, and you enjoyed it more than you let on. You had Ellie leave the record somewhere in his room to find after his patrol shift.

The now familiar sound of Joel’s boots hitting the floor as he took them off filled your living room. However, he was supposed to be on patrol and definitely not here in your house holding a Linda Ronstadt record.

“Darlin’ what’s with the gift?” He asked softly, or as soft as he possibly could. His body finding comfort next to yours on the couch, plucking the note you wrote off the record and tucking it away into the pocket of his flannel.

“Ellie said you liked her, someone at work was gettin’ rid of it. Figured you might like it.” A smile making itself home on your face, he thought it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. He’d gone soft.

“I don’t own a record player sweet girl.”

“You’ll have to visit more then. Or! Let me give you one!”

“I’ll just let you have it, hopefully the lyrics haven’t left my brain just yet and I can teach ‘em to ya.” He placed the record on the end table next to him and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Can’t believe I was such a hard ass on you, sweetest thing to ever grace my life.”

“I knew you’d come around eventually.” Looking up at him softly and caressing his cheek before placing the gentlest of kisses to his lips. “Thought you were supposed to be on patrol anyway.”

“Got someone to switch with me after I saw the record, had to come see my girl.” Joel responded, placing a kiss on your lips before trailing his thumb along your bottom lip.

Three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart. The leftovers no longer found their way onto his porch, as eventually it became your porch and the leftovers found themselves in a new fridge. The guitar was played and used to teach Ellie how to play, you often spent evenings on the porch listening to someone strum it. The record was always on repeat when Joel was home, until he accidentally dropped it on the floor consequently covering it in scratches unable to be played. As for the kisses, they never stopped and each one filled your body with butterflies that could burst out at any moment.

#joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedropascal #maddies fics

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months ago

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DIEGO HARGREEVES ; the house

summary ; yours and diegos last look at the house you were raised in

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; platonic, set in a no-doomsday au where the house was sold after reggies death in 2024, also Reggie wasn't as abusive and the kids had special normal kid core memories cause I want them to have some sort of peace damnit, y/i = your initial

track ; the house that built me, miranda lambert

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

Colorful Christmas lights hung around the home, just the way Mom would always hang them up. But this year, they weren't hung up by Mom. They were hung up by someone else's mom, someone else's protector, someone else's safe space.

You and Diego stand close together, solemnly walking up the front steps.

The umbrella logo had been removed from the glass front doors, leaving two red, wooden doors in their place. In some of the front windows, you could see fake battery-powered candles and snowflake decals.

Diego knocks on the door, looking in the little window above. A warm light illuminates the front space.

A woman opens the door, unknowing of who you were.

"Hi, can I help you? Are you a friend of Adam?"

"Uh, no" Diego replies. "We used to live here. Uhm..." He looks to you for reassurance.

You turn to the woman. "Can we walk around for just a moment? We never got to say goodbye after our parents passed. I promise we won't take anything other than our memories. Just to feel it, relive it one last time... I just wanna find myself again. This house built us. Our parents died unexpectedly, we couldn't come to even go to the funeral."

The woman's face softens. "Oh, of course" She steps back, allowing you entrance to the home.

The old black and white checkered floor was no more, replaced with some sort of white wood, contrasting against the dark oak accents. The light was warm, different than from what you remembered. This front room was always so cold.

"Take your time," She speaks. "I'll be in the kitchen. Would you like some hot chocolate? It's cold out there"

"No, ma'am," Diego answers, tapping the snow off of his boots on the welcome mat.

She nods, retreating to the other room.

You and Diego look at each other, quickly rushing to the stairs in front of you. On the side, in black paint, rests all of your handprints.

The first was Luther, always number one. He wrote his name like he was creating text to head the newspaper. Then there was Allison, her name painted underneath in cursive. Next was Five, his a little blotchy as he had to do his twice. He wrote his name in his palm, covering up his legal name, which Grace tried to get him to use, Max.

Then there was Klaus and Ben, theirs overlapping each other. Klaus had a mini paint fight with Ben, who'd disapproved immensely. Klaus' name was barely legible, Ben's neat and tidy. Next was Viktor, his hand perfectly placed on the side of the staircase. His name was written underneath in italics, slightly messy since he was in a rush to give the paint to you and Diego.

Speaking of you and Diego, your handprints rested on the end. You'd created a little heart, kind of, out of your hands. You took the left, he took the right. In the middle rested Mom's hand in dark pink paint. He'd begged and pleaded for her to join in for a good ten minutes. He was always a mama's boy.

Little eight-year-old Diego couldn't have been happier in that moment.

Your name was messily scribbled beside your hand, Diego's just the same. Grace wrote Mom with a little heart in cursive in her palm.

Your hands caress your little hands, remembering the cold paint on your hands, the mess it created on the floor.

"You think our height board is beside the hallway closet?" Diego asks softly.

"Wanna find out?" You ask

He smiles, leading you across the house. Beside the white door that led into a cleaning closet rests the height chart on the side board. L, D, A, K, F, B, V, and Y/I. Color coded, too.

Diego chuckles, seeing the height that represented him at ten. "God, I was so short. Allison was so tall"

"She still is" you reply, looking up at your final height checks. Luther's was at twenty-one. 6'3. "Wow. I never realized we all left at different times like that"

Diego nods, looking over Ben's final height at sixteen. He felt his heart trying to fix itself in that moment.

"I thought Klaus left at eighteen?" You comment, looking at the last number he had, being seventeen as he'd run away.

Diego shakes his head. "Seventeen. We left at nineteen, we got a little help from Mom, remember?"

"Oh, yeah"

You're both silent for a moment before you silently agree to go up to your rooms, wanting one last touch of Five, Ben, and yourselves.

You separate ways as you enter your rooms, sitting on the floor. You could remember where every last poster and item had gone like it was yesterday. From the bed placement to which one of Luther's records you were borrowing that day, it all stuck in your head.

The memories kept in the floorboards spoke to you.

Diego used to sneak into your room when he had nightmares up til the age of fifteen. He was mortified of the dark.

Viktor used to read with you on days off from training, all day long.

Luther sat in your room to listen to music with you while you tidied your room.

Klaus would often smoke in your room at because you were the only one with a table fan to wash the smell away out the window. Turning the lights on, even with a closed door, would've got you in trouble. Reggie was a night stalker.

Ben would trade posters with you everytime he wanted to reorganize his room.

Five would make you puke in your room by teleporting you around a kajillion times.

Allison would come to your room so you could style her hair.

You close the door as you leave, moving to Ben's. You can't enter, like the wound was torn into your skin just an hour ago. You look over the blank walls, your eyes set on where his old bookshelf sat.

In Five's room, newspapers were always plastered on the walls, much to Reginald's dismay. The foot of his bed usually housed a row of uniform shoes. There used to be a trunk under his bed where he kept his stuffed animals, which he'd outgrown before he disappeared. He couldn't bring himself to let go of them.

Diego approaches from behind, resting a light hand on your shoulder.

"You remember when Allison made a journal full of homes from magazines that she'd want to live in?"

You chuckle. "Yeah"

You're both quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

"Weird being here again"

You nod. "Hard to say goodbye to what raised you"

He nods. "I miss Mom"

"Me too"

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves oneshot #david castaneda x reader #tua x reader #tua x you

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joblrcensus · 10 months ago

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it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌

before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3

so buckle up and let’s get into it

general questions

Which continent are you from?

Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.

Which country are you from? (optional)

With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)

Drumrolls 🥁…..

Finland - 29

UK & USA - 15

Germany - 11

Poland - 9

Italy - 8

Australia - 7

Sweden - 6

Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5

Croatia, Slovenia - 4

Czechia, France, Romania - 3

Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2

Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1

How old are you?

45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.

Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?

Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈

Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no

tumblr activity questions

How do you participate on JOblr?

a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters

Do you post any of the following?

It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶

Do you also post about Käärijä?

Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much

50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom

joker out questions

How did you find out about Joker Out?

Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:

finding out about JO through Käärijä

through a music blog review

on slovenian radio

Who from the current members is your favorite?

One of the hardest questions but it had to be done

So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:

Bojan - 69 votes

Jan - 42 votes

Kris - 40 votes

Nace - 35 votes

Jure - 17 votes

Have you been to a Joker Out concert?

I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹

If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?

Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple

If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?

Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.

Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?

Drumrolls again 🥁…….

BoJere - 58 votes

BoKris - 57 votes

Jance - 56 votes

The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:

BoMartin

Jan/Jure

Kris/Jure

Nace/Kris

Nace/Jere

poly!JO

aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!

#sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes:))#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #jan peteh #jure maček #kris guštin #nace jordan

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justin-chapmanswers · 6 months ago

Note

Was there a different way [like work flow and stuff like that] you guys wrote season 3 differently from season 2? If so will you continue that flow into season 2?

Also do you have any tips on how to mange an object show since you've worked on II for a long time?

[The voices you do in II are so funky and I mean this in the best way possible]

Thank you so much! My funky voices are incredibly grateful.

Near the end of the pre-Invitational season two, the process was generally that we'd talk out where we want to go next, have our big debates, and Brian and I would draft up an outline for the team. Then the writing would start and, as it was for almost every season two episodes before Invitational, the group would just jump into a Google Doc and we'd write, together, chronologically until we'd get burnt out. Some of us were thinking of the minutiae on-the-fly, some of us would draft up practice-scripts ahead of time to work off of. It was chaotic, but then we'd spend a long while reworking/rewriting scenes.

Starting with Invitational, things changed. Most notably, we started having one writer per episode instead of jumping into the chaos. Having four writers in at once didn't help, it just made things complicated. It was about learning to let go a bit and trust the rest of the team to do a good job. We'd still of course chat about the events well-ahead of time, but then the writer would be the one to outline and pitch that outline to the team before writing. And then in revisions, we'd give notes to the writer instead of individually taking cracks at scenes. That way, the whole episode became one person's singular artistic vision. By the end of Invitational, we also weren't doing the "have our big debates" part of the process, anymore. We still would push for ideas we're passionate about, but it's been a long while since we weren't agreeable and on the same page.

So then there's the question about season two. We've been generally sticking to the Invitational way of going about things with season two, except also with Brian and I being back on outlining, and it's been going really great! Before Invitational, the pre-writing and writing time used to be the longest parts of the episode process. And not because we were spending that whole time being productive. It was common that the pre-writing planning part of the episode would be a little intense so we'd often take breaks after the previous episode's completion (plus because it's nice to take time to clear our heads) as to not jump back into chaos. And then carving time for all of us to be in the space for hours at a time while balancing school/life was tough to schedule. That all to say, now, the writing process is efficient and super-not-chaotic (aka healthy!). Instead of a few months at that stage, we're there maybe like a month and a half, from early concept (aside from the stuff we've been thinking up for years already haha) to final draft. And that's all while we've been overlapping episodes that are each at different stages, with their own things to get done. I think what we've been cooking up is gonna be really special. <3

I've been rambling for a while so I'll (try to) keep this next part short. As for the question about managing projects, that's just a tricky one cause I'd normally tailor the advice depending on the scale of the project, the amount of experience for those going in, etc. But in a broad sense I'd say do everything you can to work specifically with the people who make you excited to work. Whose ideas inspire you. If you're leading, really try to understand every step of the process. Definitely trust parts of the pipeline to other people if it's not your cup of tea, but really understand what they do. Say thank you every chance you get. If you're having fun with your show, whether it be the goofiest or most-serious of all shows, the viewers will, too. Making each step of production an enjoyable experience is worth fighting for.

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lilacmingi · 10 months ago

Text

THE HOURGLASS

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Guerilla!Wooyoung x fem reader

Word count: 7,921

Note: This was the first lore-inspired imagine I ever wrote! There’s so much from Ateez’s storyline in here. I had read through the diary versions of my albums a few months before Guerrilla was released because I wanted to understand their lore better and I was SO inspired to write something after I read it. And so, this imagine was created. To this day it’s one of my absolute favorites!

It had been months since you last saw them. Your friends. The boys you'd grown so close with over the past year. The ones that felt like home.

They were home.

Then, they disappeared.

Like many other things in your life, they were here for only a brief moment, leaving far too soon. Unlike the drifting people that weave in and out of your life, your eight close friends had seemingly disappeared and you didn't know where they went. It's almost like they vanished from existence. You missed them all dearly, but you missed Wooyoung the most. He was always so cheerful, easygoing, and full of effervescence. Like the others, he enjoyed cutting up and joking around, always messing with you or one of the other guys. You missed that. What you would give to hear one last teasing comment.

Standing alone in the middle of the abandoned metal building you used as a hangout, you reminisced on good memories and stress-free times. A time where you could all forget about the dismal aspects of your pathetic lives and just be in the moment. You found yourself coming to this place often. You weren't sure why, but you found yourself being drawn here, pulled by some invisible force. All you ever did was walk around the empty space, looking back on memories that were now ghosts from the past, haunting you.

Your fingers trace absentmindedly along the dusty lamp that sits atop a stack of wooden pallets used as a makeshift table. A baseball bat lay propped against a stack of crates and an abandoned skateboard sits idly on the dirt floor. The couch and other worn out furniture had been left behind like everything else in the building.

Everything was left as it was, as if time was frozen.

As you moved about the building, you noticed boot prints in the dirt floor of the warehouse, one's that were't there previously. The only people in that warehouse were you and your eight friends, and they hadn't been around for quite some time.

Curiosity got the best of you and you ended up following the footprints outside. They overlapped at some point, first leading to a cluster of boot marks imprinted in the dirt just outside the entrance, then going away from the building.

Judging by the multiple shoe prints outside the entryway, you concluded that whoever the tracks belonged to was standing just outside the door for an unknown period of time.

Someone was watching you.

You continued moving beside the tracks until you arrived at a grassy area where they ended. That's when the sound of leaves rustling nearby caught your attention. Bushes that dotted the edge of the tree line rustled in the wake of someone running through them.

Whoever was in the warehouse had been lingering nearby.

A small voice in the back of your mind told you to let it go and get out of there, but a louder voice told you to run into the woods.

You chose the latter.

Dead sticks and leaves crunched under your shoes as you trekked through the dense undergrowth of foliage and vines, unsure of which way to go.

You nearly trip over your own feet, stumbling to a stop when you spot an hourglass lying in the undergrowth. If you hadn't been paying attention you would have stepped on it. Your head tilted in curiosity as you bent down, reaching for the out of place object.

"Find them."

You sharply stood upright at the sound of the foreign yet vaguely familiar voice that rang out through the air, the hourglass left sitting in the vines and plants. Your head turned. Standing in the distance was the silhouette of a man in a fedora. His face was covered and he was too far away for you to see him well.

Was this the person that was watching you?

"Who are you?" You asked.

No answer.

Turning back to the abandoned hourglass, you recall what the strange man in the fedora just said moments prior.

"What do you mean find th—" You were cut off as you turned back to him, seeing that he had vanished.

Reaching for the object again, you picked it up off the ground, turning it in your hand, watching the sand shift inside as you examined it.

What could you possibly do with an hourglass?

Your fingers came to rest at the top of the hourglass, debating on what to do. These were incredibly strange circumstances and you weren't left with many options. The only thing you knew to do was to turn it, so you did. Your brows pulled together as you rotated the timer, a bright light shining from within it as the sand began to move backwards.

"What the—"

There was a sudden flash of light so bright it stunned you, your eyes squeezing shut in response to the flare.

You landed with a hard thud on a wooden surface, the sound of the ocean reaching your ears almost immediately. It didn't take long for you realize you had somehow been transported away from the warehouse... far away. You lifted your head just as a gun was drawn and pointed directly at you. Your eyes followed the barrel of the weapon, moving up to see who was holding it, your breath immediately catching in your throat when you saw who it was.

There's no way.

"Wooyoung?"

The look on his face was one of disbelief as he stumbled back a bit, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"I can't believe it. I found you." You breathed out, getting to your feet. You wasted no time engulfing him in a tight embrace, squeezing him slightly, silently praying he wouldn't disappear.

"How..." He trailed off. "How did you get here?"

You didn't have time to answer as another voice cut in, making you pull away from Wooyoung.

"What's going on?"

Moments later, San came rushing onto the deck of the ship, his eyes widening in response to what he was seeing.

"Y/n?"

"San!"

More footsteps thumped against the wooden boards as the rest of the boys stepped out, their faces showing pure shock at the sight of you. Clearly, none of them had expected you to show up and honestly, neither did you.

You were so overwhelmed seeing your friends again that tears began to well in your eyes.

"Y/n, is that you?" Hongjoong asked, breaking the long silence that hung in the air.

"It is." You nodded with a smile, your voice trembling. "I never thought I'd see you guys again."

Unable to stop yourself, you rushed forward, embracing them in a hug, happy to finally be reunited.

"I can't believe you're here." Yeosang breathed out in disbelief.

"Me either."

"How did you get here?" He inquired.

"Actually—"

"Is that the Cromer?" Mingi asked before you could finish your sentence. His mouth hung agape as he pulled away from the hug, his eyes drawn away from the group.

"The what?" You questioned, turning your head.

"The Cromer."

A few feet away was the hourglass that brought you here, lying on its side. It appeared to have rolled away from you when you landed.

"Is that what it's called?"

"Where'd you get it?" Wooyoung asked.

"I found it in the woods by our hangout. Some man in a black fedora left it."

All eight boys shared a look that told you they knew something you didn't.

"What?" You questioned, your brows pulling together as you looked around at the group.

"Did you get a look at his face?" Asked Hongjoong, answering your inquiry with another question.

"No. He was too far away."

"Did he say anything to you?" Seonghwa cut in.

"Find them."

The oldest glanced over at Hongjoong and the others, all of them sharing perplexed expressions.

"I don't understand what's going on."

No one said a word as Hongjoong stepped forward, retrieving the fallen Cromer and holding it in his hands.

"Do you guys know what this means?" He asked, turning to the group with glossy eyes, a look of longing and hope on his face. "We can finally go home."

Wooyoung then stepped forward.

"You need to put that in a safe place." He advised almost sternly.

"I will. We don't want them coming after it."

You turned to Hongjoong with a bemused expression.

Who's them?

Wooyoung could tell you were confused about the whole situation, so he decided to step in.

"Why don't we talk?"

"Yeah. That's a good idea."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you to a shallow deck located at the back of the ship where the two of you could talk in private.

Ever since landing on this ship, the only thing you've been met with is confusion, leaving unanswered questions to pile up and swirl around your mind like a violent storm.

Wooyoung dropped your hand, moving to lean against the ship railing, you followed suit, watching him as he stared out at the open waters, a wistful look on his face.

"I thought about you guys a lot." You spoke up, cutting through the silence. "Every day, actually."

"We thought about you too, Y/n. We've been trying to get back."

"What is this place? How did you all get here? Why haven't you been able to get back? Who are these people you're trying to keep the Cromer from?" You asked only a few of the many questions that weighed heavily in your mind.

Wooyoung let out a long sigh as he turned to you. "Y/n, there's a lot you don't know."

"Clearly."

"No." His face became serious, something you didn't often see on Wooyoung. "This is much bigger than you know. Did you not think the man in the fedora in the woods was odd? Or the fact that an hourglass of all things just transported you to a different place?"

"Of course I did, but as soon as I saw you guys, I couldn't be bothered to worry about anything else."

Wooyoung's gaze softened for a moment, your statement pulling at his heartstrings. He missed you so much, probably more than you missed him, however, you've fallen into a world much worse than the one you came from. You didn't know anything about Strictland or the horrible things happening in it.

"The man in the black fedora, we've met him before." Wooyoung finally spoke up. "He came to see Hongjoong."

Your brows pulled together as you processed his words.

"Things were starting to fall apart. Yeosang's parents didn't like that he was dancing, Jongho and Mingi were mad at each other, everything was just crumbling to pieces."

"I remember." You nodded, thinking back on those gloomy times that you tried your best to forget.

"Well, it wasn't long after we kinda split up, Hongjoong was at our old hangout when this man showed up and brought him the Cromer. His face was covered, so Hongjoong didn't recognize him, but he later found out that man was himself."

"What?" You breathed out in disbelief.

How could it be?

"When Hongjoong turned the Cromer, we all came back to the warehouse. We were all together again, but we weren't alone. A fleet of men in white came to attack us. We had to flee and along the way, the Cromer got taken from us. Things have been so crazy since then." He shook his head as he recalled the events that had taken place. "Yeosang... he risked his life for us. We lost him for a while. The android guardians, the men in white, got him and the Cromer we had got broken in order to save us."

"What happened? Yeosang is here, so you obviously succeeded, right?"

"After some time, yes. Yeosang got captured by the androids after tossing the Cromer to Hongjoong. The android threatened to break Yeosang's neck if he didn't get the Cromer, so Hongjoong tossed it over. While Yeosang made his way back over to us, he caught the Cromer and turned it before smashing it on the ground. Hongjoong tried to grab his hand, but he didn't make it."

"So Yeosang was left with those... things?"

Wooyoung nodded, somberly. He admired his friend for risking his life the way he did in order to save them, especially considering the circumstances. However, he hated that something like that even happened in the first place.

"What happened to you guys? Where did you go?"

"The past."

He explained to you that they felt stuck with no Cromer and no way to get Yeosang back. That is, until Seonghwa shared a news article with them about a group going to steal a Mayan relic from a museum—the Cromer.

"So what did you do?"

"We stole it."

You gaped upon hearing this, unable to imagine them doing such a thing.

"Yunho wanted to stay behind because in the past where we were, his brother was still alive."

Your heart ached a little. You knew of Yunho's situation and how dear his brother was to him. You also knew how his death weighed on Yunho and how he carried that grief with him, so you didn't blame him for wanting to stay behind.

"The plan fell through when I tried to get the Cromer from the leader of the group. He had a knife held to my throat and was holding us hostage. That's when Yunho showed up on his motorcycle with his friends and caused a distraction. They helped us make an escape. Unfortunately, the group leader got into a vehicle and chased us, which essentially ended up crashing into the sidewalk."

Your heart sank in your chest as you felt a sense of dread looming over you, being able to assume what happened next.

"Yunho's brother had seen him on TV and left to find him. He was headed to the museum when the crash happened."

A frown pulled at your lips as it clicked into place. Yunho had to experience his brother dying all over again.

"Is he okay?" Your voice came out quieter than you expected.

Wooyoung nodded, which brought you some relief.

"Yunho's brother found his journal and saw where he wrote about him dying. He told Yunho it wasn't his fault and that he needed to move on and stop letting his death hold him back."

"So he got closure."

"He did."

"And what about everyone else?"

"We were able to make a narrow escape and get back to Strictland to save Yeosang."

He told you about the Grimes siblings who had helped them escape their first run in with the android guardians and a man named Left Eye who they were able to recruit, filling you in on everything that had occurred since their disappearance from the dystopian Strictland.

"This place... it's not like our world. It looks the same, but it's not the same—it's much different. The government is trying to control everyone. They're taking away people's biological energy. They have no emotions and there's bans on everything. No art, no music, no singing, nothing. These men in the black fedoras are freedom fighters—guerrillas. They go performing in the streets to help break people from their trances. The people they recruit are part of an underground alliance called The Black Pirates. The men in the black fedoras are us from this dimension and they're the leaders of The Black Pirates. They're rebelling against the government of Strictland and fighting to change things."

"You said the Grimes siblings and Left Eye came with you to the android bunker. Where are they?"

Wooyoung's expression seemed to fall a bit, making you assume the worst.

"When Yeosang was stuck in that glass tube at the abandoned gallery, he saw them. They had gotten their biological energy taken."

You frowned at this even though you'd never met the kids.

"And Left Eye?"

"He lost his right arm, but he made it out."

For some reason, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, if the men in the black fedoras are you guys from this dimension, then who was it that left the Cromer for me?"

"It could be any one of us."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but one thing I'm sure of is that he saw purpose in you. You're obviously here for a reason."

"You think so?"

"Yes. He wanted you to find us."

"And I did." You added. "So, now what?"

"You stick with us."

Hearing that sent a tidal wave of relief through you. You'll never allow yourself to be separated from them ever again, especially Wooyoung.

You watched as the rest of the guys moved about the main deck, Jongho and San working to raise a sail. It appeared that they knew what they were doing, most likely having practice over the last few months.

"So are you like, a pirate now?" You asked Wooyoung.

"Sort of." He chuckled. "We've been using this ship to get around. It seems safer this way. Because of that, we've had to learn how to do certain things."

"So, what happens next? Where are you heading?"

"To The Black Pirate's hideout. We sent a Morse code message to Left Eye to let him know we're back and we're ready to fight."

"Fight?"

Wooyoung nodded.

"So, this is a rebellion?"

"A revolution." He responded, his eyes cast upon the horizon where the sun was slowly dipping down into the water. His expression was hard and determined, his brows creased in thought.

This situation was much more serious than you initially thought it was. These boys, your friends who were always smiling when you were together, were willing to fight against these guardian things. They'd changed since you last saw them. Their personalities had been slightly altered from what they once were. Everyone seemed serious and perhaps even more mature.

"You've changed." You commented aloud.

"What do you mean?"

"You've all gotten serious."

"We're just determined to change things, that's all." He responded, his eyes cast down, fixed upon his hands that were clasped together. "Is it bad that I've changed?"

"Well, no. Not necessarily. Considering the circumstances, you all kind of had to grow up and become more mature. I understand, but I'll admit, I was looking forward to seeing all of you happy and smiling. You know, how we used to be when we were all together."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

Wooyoung couldn't help but think about how his personality had changed since coming to Strictland. Had he changed? He wasn't sure.

Perhaps he was still the same Wooyoung and just wasn't in the right circumstances to be as lively and upbeat as he usually was. That's what he liked to think. Even so, did you not like that he had changed? Did it make you feel differently about him?

"Hey!" Mingi's voice cut through the air, catching Wooyoung's attention. "Hongjoong needs everyone in his quarters. We need to discuss some things."

After sharing a brief glance with Wooyoung, the both of you trailed behind Mingi, following him through a doorway that led to a large room. Inside was the rest of your friends, all of them gathered around a table with maps spread across it, the Cromer sitting in the middle.

Hongjoong glanced up at you through a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

"Has Wooyoug caught you up?"

"Yes, he has. I do have a question, though. What happened to the Cromer you stole from the museum?"

The boys shared a look before Hongjoong addressed you with an answer.

"We're not sure. We think it went back to its dimension."

"It just... disappeared?"

"Yes. After we saved Yeosang, we couldn't find it. We know the guardians didn't get it, so we just assumed it went back to its rightful dimension."

The explanation didn't sound quite right to you. How could it have just disappeared? It didn't make any sense. Then again, nothing made sense. An hourglass that allowed you to travel through dimensions? That's wildly illogical, but it's real. The very item is sitting before you and it's already proven it's abilities.

"None of that matters now, though." Seonghwa chimed in. "We have the Cromer now and that's all that matters."

"He's right." Mingi nodded. "Once this is all over with, we have a way to get back."

Get back. Back home. Wooyoung liked the sound of that.

Once everything was back to normal in Strictland, Wooyoung and his friends could return back to the world they came from and things would be better. This time, the group wouldn't split up and he would finally confess to you. He would do everything in his power to make sure you all were happier.

One thing he regretted when first getting brought to Strictland was that he never got to tell you how he truly felt. He was too scared and kept putting it off. One day when I have the guts, I'll tell her. He said that to himself so many times. One day... but one day never came because the group started to drift apart, then they were all brought here to Strictland with no warning—without you.

"Wooyoung told me you're heading for Left Eye's hideout." You mentioned.

"We are." Hongjoong nodded.

"How will you find it?"

"He told us."

"He sent us the coordinates via radio." Yunho told you.

"We'll be safe there." Yeosang mentioned.

"How long have you guys been on the ship?"

"Three days. If my calculations are correct, we have at least one more day of sailing before we get there." Mingi stated.

As night descends upon the ship, the guys decide to drop anchor at a nearby island to rest and make dinner. Turns out, learning how to raise sails and work on a ship wasn't the only thing they learned how to do while sailing.

The fire burned brightly in front of you, the orange glow from the flames flickering across everyone's faces as they sat huddled around it. They'd stocked the ship with plenty of rations and supplies, so you had some decent food to eat as well as plates and silverware to eat with. On top of that, Jongho and Seonghwa had caught some fish for you all to eat that night. Wooyoung was currently cooking said fish over the flames. Yeosang had opted to open a bag of chips stashed on board the ship while he waited for the food to finish cooking. Wooyoung scolded him for doing so, complaining that he always eats while he's cooking and that he'll ruin his appetite.

"You guys have been through so much in such a short amount of time." You commented over the crackling fire. "I can't believe I was off living my life while you were stuck here fighting for your lives."

"It's not your fault." Wooyoung shut you down immediately. "Don't blame yourself, especially for something you couldn't possibly know about."

"Yeah." Mingi spoke up. "It's the worst thing you can do."

You shot Mingi a curious gaze, prompting him to continue.

"Remember that stuff I said about the time we spent together being meaningless?"

You nodded, thinking back on the moment. That was when Jongho threw a punch at Mingi.

"I only said that because I thought I was going to lose my grandma. While I was having fun with all of you, she had collapsed. I blamed myself for not knowing even though there wasn't any way I could have been aware of what was going on. So please don't say stuff like that."

This whole time you thought he truly didn't care about the times you all shared, but it was just him blaming himself for something out of his control.

"You're right." You nodded.

"Come on, guys." Yunho nudged Mingi. "Let's lighten things up."

"Yeah." San grinned. "We've been reunited with Y/n. That should be something to celebrate, right?"

As he glanced around the group, everyone began to nod in agreement. San was right.

It was then that he jumped up and started doing a silly dance to help lighten the mood, which prompted the group's resident dance machine Yunho to do the same. The two began to bust out some dance moves, which made everyone laugh. Yeosang began dancing in his spot on the ground, one hand in the bag of chips he was eating. It didn't take very long for him to finally stand up and start dancing. After taking the fish off the fire, Wooyoung quickly joined the three, all of them doing the same dance move while Yunho sang. You recognized it as the chorus of a popular Korean pop song they used to sing and dance to.

Wooyoung pranced around the fire, the orange glow lighting up his face. You're reminded of all the times the guys had dance practices in the warehouse and the way their eyes glimmered, especially Yeosang's. He loved dancing. He was forced play the violin like his parents wanted him to, but his true passion was dancing. And Wooyoung... he had stage fright, but you were all there to help him get past that. You remembered he once admitted to you that when he got nervous, he thought of you and it helped him calm down. You never forgot that. It stuck with you.

His squeaky laughter fills the air as him, Yunho, Yeosang, and San dance together around the fire, Hongjoong watching with a fond expression.

You're relieved seeing Wooyoung in good spirits, knowing he hasn't lost his spark. He was still the same bright-eyed Wooyoung. The one who wasn't fighting against the government in a different dimension.

Seeing him having fun with the others felt like old times.

"Maybe we could just stay here." You find yourself suggesting before you can stop yourself.

The group goes quiet and the dancing ceases, making you mentally scold yourself for allowing your tongue to slip like that.

"It's too dangerous." Hongjoong said, turning the idea down immediately.

"Yeah. Why would you want to stay in a place like this?" Jongho added.

"I'm sorry. I got caught up in the moment. It's just that we're all having such a good time right now. If we go back, who's to say we won't split up again?" You voiced your concerns aloud.

"We won't split up again." Mingi told you, his gaze sincere. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

"Me too." San agreed.

The rest of the guys began to nod their heads, saying they'd all do whatever it takes to make sure you stick together.

"If we can't stay here, then, why not just leave right now? You have the Cromer. Let's just get out of here." You suggested.

"We can't." Yunho spoke up.

"We have to stay. It's what they want." Seonghwa stated.

"Exactly. We have a job to finish and until that gets done, we have to stay. No matter how long it takes." Hongjoong added.

"I see." You murmured, staring at the flames before you as a long silence settled over the group.

"You know, even though we're in a really bad situation, I feel a lot better knowing you're back with us." Yeosang broke the silence, taking a seat.

"Me too." Wooyoung agreed.

"We should eat before it gets cold." Seonghwa mentioned.

Right. You'd almost forgotten about dinner.

Wooyoung plated the fish and helped serve it while San prepared the side dishes, which were just canned goods.

"I promise we'll eat something better once we get to the hideout." He assured as he spooned out canned corn for everyone.

You didn't mind. In fact, you were grateful none of you had to fend for yourselves and find food out in the wild, besides the fish.

After a somewhat decent meal, you decided to take a walk down the beach, Wooyoung offered to come with and keep you company.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets as you walked along the shore, making sure the water didn't get on your shoes.

"Dinner was terrible, wasn't it?" Wooyoung spoke up.

"Not at all. It was a lot better than I thought it would be."

"That's good to know." He glanced down at his feet, watching them sink into the sand with every step.

A sigh slipped past your parted lips, your hands moving up to run through your hair as you stared out at the ship anchored out in the water.

"I feel like I ruined everything." You admitted suddenly. "I just missed you so much. I though me coming here would be a good thing, but it seems like I just walked into something much bigger than myself."

Wooyoung reached over and grabbed your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"It is a good thing. You brought the Cromer to us." He offered up a smile. "And I missed you too. In fact, I thought about you more than I'd like to admit."

"You did?"

He nodded. "The day we were all brought back to the warehouse and we found out we weren't in our world anymore, I thought about you. I wondered what would happen to you and how you would react if you never saw us again."

"When you guys disappeared, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what had happened or where you'd gone. It always felt like you had all just vanished, turns out you did." You took in a deep breath. "Even though things are bad here, I'm thankful the man in the fedora gave me the Cromer. If he hadn't, I'd still be wondering where you guys were."

Wooyoung couldn't help but smile. He was overjoyed that you found your way here. However, he cares too much about you and because of that, he didn't want you to get hurt—or worse.

"You should take the Cromer and go back."

His sudden suggestion made you do a double take.

"What? I'm not doing that. You said that fedora guy saw purpose in me and that I'm supposed to be here."

"I know, but..." He trailed off. "What if you get hurt? What if they capture you and your emotions get taken away?"

"I won't. If this gets used, we're using it together." You stared intensely into Wooyoung's eyes, your gaze burning into him in order to convey how serious you were.

You could see his resolve crumble almost immediately as he let out a sigh.

"Alright." He caved. "We'll use it together."

You gave a nod of finality. "Good."

With that, you both made your way back down the shore, returning to the fire, which appeared to have died down a bit while you were gone.

Seonghwa was leaned over on Yunho, both of them looking a bit drowsy. San was stretched across their laps with his eyes closed, appearing to be in the process of dozing off. You couldn't blame them. They've been running, hiding, and fighting nonstop since arriving at Strictland, and after a long day at sea and a nice meal, they're more than likely ready to rest.

Hongjoong stood up, dusting off his pants as he glanced around the group.

"Should we call it a night?"

"Mhm." San hummed, sleepily.

Jongho took it upon himself to put the remains of the fire out as everyone stood up and headed to the small row boats left on the shore, piling in. The boats were rather cramped, because of that, you found yourself sandwiched between Wooyoung and Mingi. Thankfully, the ride was fairly brief, as the ship was anchored just beyond the sandbar.

The members worked to tie the boats to the ship and pull themselves back to the deck.

Wooyoung stepped out of the small vessel and onto the bigger one, extending his hand to you. You took hold and stepped back onto the ship.

"We should figure out sleeping arrangements for Y/n." Yeosang spoke up.

"She can sleep with me." Wooyoung offered almost immediately.

No one argued, they merely nodded their heads and went their separate ways.

The thought of sharing a room with Wooyoung had you feeling a bit nervous, or perhaps you were excited. You weren't sure.

His room was exactly how you would have pictured it: small with a few tiny pieces of furniture and a bed. You knew the rooms would be small, even with your limited knowledge on ships.

"Well, here we are." He gestured before rummaging through the drawers of the tiny bedside dresser. "You take the bed."

"Where will you sleep?"

"The floor."

"Wooyoung, I'm not letting you do that. We can share the bed. I have no problem doing so."

He couldn't find it in him to argue, so he agreed to share the bed with you. It wouldn't be so bad. Wooyoung was a cuddly person anyway... with the members, at least. When it came to you, even though you were close, he found himself being hesitant, not wanting to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.

You were given some clothes to sleep in and a few moments alone to change into them. Once both you and Wooyoung were in your sleepwear, you got in bed. The sheets were rather soft and the comforter brought more warmth than you thought it would. The bed wasn't all that big and barely fit the both of you. Your shoulders were touching, pressed against each other as you both stared at the ceiling.

"Do you have enough room?" Wooyoung asked quietly.

"Not really."

"Maybe we should try something else."

Hesitantly, Wooyoung shifted, turning on his side as he worked to readjust himself.

"Can you roll on your side?" He requested.

You thought nothing of it, nodding and repositioning yourself. It was then that you felt an arm wrap around your midriff, pulling you into a warm, firm chest. An involuntary gasp left you in response. You didn't mean to, but the action surprised you—it also made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Is this okay?" Wooyoung asked softly, his voice so close to your ear it gave you chills.

You waited a moment to answer, afraid your voice would give out on you. "Yeah."

It was the only thing you could say.

The ship bobbed with the waves, the vessel creaking every so often as it was moved by the water. You could see the half moon outside through the porthole in Wooyoung's room, a faint beam of moonlight streaming in through the circular window. You found yourself staring at it, trying to distract yourself. Having Wooyoung hold you like this was something you dreamt about for a long time, but now that it's happening, your insides were a mess. You're so very aware of his arm around you and his chest pressed against your back.

Wooyoung had his eyes closed, still unable to believe he made such a bold move. He hoped you couldn't feel his racing heart. Like you, he was struggling to go to sleep, his mind swarming with thoughts and what ifs. He wanted to keep you safe and close, just like right now. If he were to lose you, he didn't know what he would do.

"Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"I have to tell you something."

You turned your head, glancing at him over your shoulder. "What is it?"

"It's really important and I'm afraid if I don't say something now, I won't get to say it later."

A million different things popped into your head at once, your heart jumping in response. The urgency and seriousness in his voice had you on edge. Because of this, your turned around in his hold, moving to face him. The room was dim, the only light in the small space was being provided by the half moon hanging in the night sky outside. Even in the low light, you could see Wooyoung's features, including his nervous eyes.

Sensing his unease, you spoke up, hoping to give him some solace. "Whatever it is you need to say, just say it. Don't overthink it. You know I won't judge."

Wooyoung took in a deep breath, your words bringing him very little comfort, but only because you didn't know he was about to pour his heart out.

"Alright. I'll just say it then. I like you, Y/n."

Your breath hitched slightly upon hearing his sudden confession.

"As in like like?"

"Yes."

This was news to you—big news.

"For how long?"

"Almost since we met."

"I can't believe this." You chuckled softly. "I like you too. In fact, I've liked you for about as long as you've liked me."

"You're joking." He breathed out in disbelief.

"I wish I was."

"I can't believe I waited this long to tell you and you felt the same the whole time." His head dropped as he let out a sigh of exasperation.

You gently put your hand under his chin, lifting his face up.

"At least you said something now. Better late than never, right?"

A small smile tugged at his mouth. "Right."

The room became still after that, a heavy silence hanging in the air, save for the faint creaking of the ship. You could feel Wooyoung's shallow breaths fanning lightly against your cheeks, making you realize just how close you were to him.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes."

The next thing you felt was his lips on yours. His soft, velvety lips, the ones you've always admired and daydreamed about kissing. Now that you were actually experiencing the moment, it doesn't come close to how you imagined it—in fact, your fantasies about kissing him paled in comparison to the real thing.

Wooyoung's hand now rested on your waist, his thumb rubbing up and down in a soothing and loving manner as he kissed you, his head tilting to the side, slotting your mouths closer together. The feelings you were experiencing in the moment were indescribable. Your face was on fire and your body felt like absolute mush as well as your brain. The only thing you could think of was Wooyoung.

Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung.

Your hand unconsciously moved towards his hair, twisting your fingers around the dark strands, tugging every once in a while in an attempt to ground yourself. In response, Wooyoung drew you in closer, pulling you by your waist until you were flush against him. This only clouded your mind further.

"Woo." You sighed against his lips.

"Y/n." He responded, sounding just as dazed and out of it as you were.

He pressed his lips firmly against yours once more before you parted ways, both of you left breathless. You huffed out a laugh, dropping your head on his chest, both of you panting in an attempt to catch your breaths.

"Wow." You chuckled.

"Yeah. Wow."

"That kiss gave me so much energy, I feel like I could take those android guardians by myself."

Wooyoung let out a soft laugh in response, holding you closer. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arm around him. Suddenly, the cramped bed felt much more comfortable with you in Wooyoung's arms.

You woke up the next day with a pep in your step. Wooyoung confessing the previous night was quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to you. The kiss you shared still had you reeling as you moved about the deck.

"Morning, Y/n." Yeosang greeted, appearing to hold back a smirk. "You seem chipper."

"You could say that."

"Did something happen last night?" He questioned.

"You could say that."

Yeosang let out a short huff of laughter through his nose. "I knew it. I can see it on your face. He finally let the cat out of the bag, didn't he?"

You nodded shyly, holding back a smile.

It was then that Wooyoung emerged, stepping out of the crew's sleeping quarters and onto the deck. Yeosang gave a glance at him, then you before grinning and walking away.

Your roommate sauntered over to you, his arms sliding around your waist from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Morning, love." He hummed, nosing at your neck.

"Morning."

"Did you sleep well?”

"I did."

You fell asleep wrapped in Wooyoung's arms and woke up still snuggled into him. His sleeping face was the first thing you woke up to.

"You hungry?" He asked.

You nodded.

"I'll go start on breakfast. We've got a long day ahead of us. We'll need all the energy we can get."

After a rather large breakfast, everyone was feeling awake and energized. The ship was set to arrive at Left Eye's hideout later in the day and everyone was more than ready to get there. The wind had picked up, so you helped Jongho and Yunho raise the sails a bit higher, pushing the ship forward.

After that, everyone was able to meander about the vessel and wait until you reached land. Mingi sat atop a crate, watching the waves while Seonghwa busied himself by sweeping trash off the deck. Yeosang sat in the rigging with Jongho and Yunho, all three of them pushing each other every once in a while in an attempt to scare one another. San was on the forecastle deck with Hongjoong, you could hear him singing every once in a while, the wind carrying his voice down to the main deck. As for you and Wooyoung, you were both leaned against the wooden railing of the ship watching the horizon.

"Y/n!" Yunho called.

"Yeah?" You shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand as you glanced up at Yunho who was in the rigging.

"Come up here with us."

"Yeah, it's fun." Jongho added with a gummy grin.

"I don't know." You responded, unsure of wether or not you wanted to be on flimsy ropes with the three of them.

"We won't push you. We promise." Yeosang told you, though you didn't really believe him.

"I'll go with you." Wooyoung whispered. "If they harass you, I'll push one of them overboard."

You chuckled at that, moving over to the ropes and joining the three rambunctious boys.

"Hey, Y/n. Watch this." Yunho laughed, letting go of the ropes, allowing himself to fall back, hanging by his legs, which were looped into the rigging.

You squeaked in response.

"I wanna try." Wooyoung spoke up, doing exactly what Yunho had just demonstrated.

"You're both going to give me a heart attack if you keep doing that." You groaned.

They only laughed, swinging their arms with reckless abandon.

You spent your time hanging out on the ropes for quite some time. Thankfully, no one fell and no one was pushed overboard.

San extended the telescope, peering out at the horizon ahead.

"What do you see?" Hongjoong asked from the helm.

"I see land!"

A smile pulled at Hongjoong's lips. "Fellas, we made it! Left Eye's hideout is straight ahead."

The crew erupted in cheers as both happiness and relief washed over the group. Wooyoung and Yeosang were so excited they started shaking the rigging, causing you to clutch onto the ropes in order not to fall.

You were helping to set up large speakers in the streets, Wooyoung, Jongho, and a couple other Black Pirate members, making sure the cords were hooked into the large spherical speaker.

After arriving on land, the group located Left Eye's hideout where you all made plans on how to make a move against the government of Strictland. This plan included setting up speakers in the streets to play music through in hopes that it would help break people from their trances and being back their emotions.

"This one's done." Jongho said. "Let's move on to the next one."

You nodded, following behind the group, pausing when you saw a familiar silhouette in a shaded alleyway. You would have ran had it not been for the black fedora on the shadow's head.

Giving a quick glance towards the group, you turned down the alley, approaching the man. Once you stood before him, you were able to properly look into his eyes. Like his voice, something about them seemed familiar.

"You found them." He stated.

"Who are you?"

The man brought his hand up and slowly pulled down his mask to reveal the face of Wooyoung.

"You..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence on account of the shock you were feeling.

"Yes. It was me that brought the Cromer to you. It was also me who took it."

"You took it? I thought you were trapped with the other men in black fedoras. The ones who look like my friends."

"I was. While your friends were saving Yeosang, my group was able to make an escape. We knew what was coming and I made the decision to take the Cromer from your friends when they weren't looking. I brought it to you and you brought it back to them."

"I have so many questions." You shook your head. "How did you find me? And why me?"

"Your Wooyoung had mentioned your name when they found us trapped in the abandoned art museum belonging to the android guardians. He said he wanted to get back to you. Your friends need all the help they can get and so when I escaped, I went in search for you. It was just dumb luck that you were at the warehouse when I arrived."

"You escaped. Did the others get out too?"

He nodded.

"You have to come with me back to the hideout. We need you."

"No." He shook his head. "They mustn't know me and my team made it out."

"But you guys are the ones who started this."

"And you'll finish it."

"What? No—"

"We're watching you all. There's no need to worry. You're doing exceptionally well."

"What if this doesn't work, though? What if it backfires?" You questioned.

"You and your friends will figure something else out."

"Y/n!"

You turned to see Wooyoung standing at the end of the alley.

His shoulders sagged in relief when he spotted you.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I was just talking to..." Your voice faded out when you turned to find the space in front of you empty. The man in the black fedora was gone.

"No one." You added, quietly.

"Well, come on. We've got more speakers to set up."

Giving one last glance at the empty space, you turned and joined Wooyoung, heading down the vacant streets to your next destination.

You almost brought up your brief chat with the man in the black fedora, however, just as you were about to speak, something held you back.

"They mustn't know me and my team made it out."

Your words died on your tongue before they could even come out.

You should do the right thing.

"Were you going to say something, Y/n?" Wooyoung asked.

"No." You shook your head.

He glanced at you for a moment before bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it.

"Come on. Jongho and the others got ahead of us. We need to hurry and get back with them."

"Right." You nodded.

As the two of you went to catch up with the group, you glanced over your shoulder, the man in the black fedora standing idly in the street. He held his hand up, giving you a small wave. You weren't sure if he would see you, but you gave a nod towards him as a way to let him know: "Your secret is safe with me."

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Jongho

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