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manysmallhands · 2 years

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My Albums of 2022: The top 10

Was 2022 a great year for music? I don't know tbh, though I think that I can confidently state that it was at least quite good. But certainly, I heard some records that I liked this year and since I've gotten back into the habit of writing now, I thought that I might make the effort to say something about my favourites. Also, my girlfriend likes to read these reviews so i wrote them in the hope of making her happy.

My tastes have broadened notably over recent years so i feel a bit out of my depth with some of this stuff. But tbh i'm such a fanboy that i tend to absorb facts about everything I that listen to, so i'm hoping not to come over as too poorly informed about any of these acts. Anyway, if I start to fall back on too many adjectives at some point for want of something to say, you should know that I did at least make an effort to write something that was vaguely interesting.

So, the main list goes in chronological order...

March:

Charli XCX - Crash

Watching Charli take pot shots at her label at the start of the year while indicating that this contract fulfilling album was a form of going thru the motions, I can’t say that I had high hopes for Crash. But if the build up was less than edifying, the record itself has ended up sounding a lot more worthwhile. Putting aside some of the more neurotic elements that characterised 2020’s How I’m Feeling Now, she instead falls back on a cartoonishly brash alter-ego, one that’s too busy berating her boyfriend for getting mushy or cheerfully remarking on how goddamn hot she is these days to have time for any deeper self-analysis.

Musically, there’s a lot of fun to be had in the summery 80s bombast of New Shapes and Lightning, where clattering electronic drums meet massive synth chords to create a charmingly trashy retro sound. Elsewhere, there are shuffling, club-friendly beats which project a more up-to-date vibe, most notably on Used To Know Me and the Rina Sawayama collaboration Beg For You. But while Crash always basically sounds like a Charli album, it’s clearly a move away from the past and feels a good distance from the glitchy hyperpop of old.

On sparkling closer “Twice”, our heroine reflects on the darker side of life but, in contrast to the self baiting Charli of recent times, decides that she's better off trying to live in the moment. One might say that Crash itself is an applied version of that idea, where weightier themes and experiments are put aside in favour of a more user friendly approach. I suspect that, record company pressure aside, this would have happened in the end anyway - most artists who’ve pushed at the boundaries eventually retrench a little. But I think the true measure of Crash is that, in its own way, it feels just as satisfying as its predecessors, as Charli sets her colossal talents to the task of making an album of fun, danceable tunes you can shout along to and aces it all with style to spare.

Ex-Vöid - Bigger Than Before

If you know anything about Ex-Vöid, it’s probably that they rose from the ashes of the excellent but terribly named indiepoppers Joanna Gruesome. That ought to give you some idea of the noise they make: Alanna McCardle and Owen Williams’ twin vocal style is basically a trademark in itself and they still do that bit where they pinch the first chord from You Made Me Realise before they start half of the songs. However, Bigger Than Before is not just a retread of past glories: while some elements here do have a certain familiarity, its 70s powerpop vibe brings them closer to someone like Big Star than the speed jangle of previous efforts, giving them a sound that has all the languid charm of classic American Rock while retaining the urgency and fun of their origins.

One key difference here is that Alanna takes on more songwriting duties and the album is better for it: there’s a strong sense of her angsty female perspective on tracks like “(Lying To You) Baby” which offers a sharp contrast to the slackerish feel of the music. The cover of Arthur Russell’s “I Couldn’t Say It To Your Face” is another highlight, as they add some energy to Russell's beautifully maudlin ballad whilst still retaining the song’s essential gloom. CD hold outs will get cracking early single “Only One” as a bonus but, despite the album’s brevity, its ten song run is flawless in itself and requires nothing to shore it up. Old Joanna Gruesome fans ought to be happy enough with the results (I am anyway), but Bigger Than Before feels like a record to win over new converts as much as one that preaches to the choir.

April: Jeanines - Don’t Wait for A Sign

Jeanines debut found them more often that not in something of a panic but on Don’t Wait For A Sign they manage to balance that out with a more cheerful disposition. Alicia appeals to ideas of trusting to fate and seizing the day just as often as sinking into gloom and the results lend a brighter and more optimistic sheen to their folksy indiepop sound.

The guitars strum and jangle as appealingly as before but as ever it’s Alicia’s voice which is the star, swooping around with an assuredness which belies the nerves so often on display. Singles “Any Day Now” and “Who’s In the Dark?” hit with a sugar rush immediacy but there’s plenty of strength in depth too, with tracks like the insistent “Gotta Go” and the wonderfully ambivalent “Turn On the TV” creeping up on you after repeated listens.

As ever with indiepop albums, its familiarity is a given, but the strength of lyrical insight and sheer melodic verve here marks Don’t Wait For A Sign out as a genuine keeper. On this showing, Jeanines remain one of the few current players in the genre who can make this deceptively simple art form so memorable and so satisfyingly rich with feeling.

Let’s Eat Grandma - Two Ribbons

In a year where there has been no shortage of intensity in pop music, Two Ribbons still stands out as something else. Jenny Hollingworth and Rosa Walton have, to put it mildly, had a time of it since their last LP, dealing with the death of Hollingworth’s boyfriend alongside struggling to patch up the increasing cracks in their friendship amongst a huge weight of personal upheaval. While all of this has clearly thrown them hard in various ways, the album that it’s inspired is their best by a long distance. Every song feels like a message transmitted from a place of radical and unsparing honesty, whether it’s directed towards lovers past and present or, more often, at themselves and each other, as they attempt to understand the new, difficult and at times terrifying situations that they’ve suddenly been forced to navigate.

And yet…overwhelming it may be but Two Ribbons never gets bogged down in grim reflection: it’s always a pop record first and manages to deal with its baggage in surprising ways. Like all the best stories it starts at the end, with single “Happy New Year” acting as an upbeat celebration of the endurance of their friendship as well as a pulsing synthpop banger. And for all its anger, “Watching You Go” is also a fierce cry of resistance, with a wealth of bewilderment and brittleness bound up in its jittery, powerful rhythm track and a breathtaking melody to carry it across. Hollingworth’s top lines in particular are head-spinningly beautiful throughout and help raise the album beyond the merely impressive to something that’s jaw droppingly great. While nothing is resolved as the title track closes, Two Ribbons is still a powerfully cathartic record, a treatise on love, death and friendship as well as the ability of music to express the things that words alone can’t always explain.

May Florence + The Machine - Dance Fever

Dance Fever marked a new high point in Florence’s ultra-confessional bombast, using the twin stresses of the pandemic and a mid-career crisis to fuel some of her most satisfying work in a decade. The title is somewhat misleading, with the concept for the album being less club culture, more nervous panic: the notion of Choreomania - where German peasant folk danced themselves to death back in the Middle Ages - provides a key image for the record, which Florence manages to map onto the tortured relationship she has with both her muse and her career.

The opening “King” is solemn and regal enough to befit such a title, but its gender swap accentuates the song’s toughness and that brutality comes back time and again, whether it’s in the frequent and unsparing references to personal conflict that pepper the lyrics or the occasional projections of Florence's inner turmoil out into violence against her own body. While single “My Love” is something of a banger, Floz generally skips between styles in her usual goth-pop modes, with the fresh and unexpected motorik of “Free” balancing neatly against the more epic, windswept feel of songs like “Girls Against God” and “The Bomb”. The rumbling rockers are less consistent but “Cassandra” in particular hits a richly theatrical vein, combining myth and drama with the wider arc of the album’s story to fine effect.

While many artists might have faded after 15 years in the spotlight, Florence seems to be using her longevity as something to power her onwards, tapping into her neuroses about stardom and the need to be seen to make a record that can only perpetuate it all for even longer. Given how tortured the whole business has clearly become, one might feel somewhat ambivalent about that result, but when it still drives her to spin it all into great art like this, I guess she must believe at heart that it’s worth the trouble.

Kendrick Lamar - Mr Morale and the Big Steppers

Writing about Mr Morale is, in one sense, something of a treat because there’s such a lot to say about it and such a lot that it says for itself. From another angle, it’s extremely daunting: as a record with so much density and substance, it’s easy to get lost in all the layers on display. It’s clearly intended to be a Big Statement by A Major Artist but its playfulness is vital too: whether in the humorously conspiratorial nature of the lyrics, with Kendrick being prepared to goof around and openly mock himself while talking about issues which are obviously very personal to him, or the musical breaks from hip hop convention, where he strays at times towards more jazz based textures or even elements that wouldn’t sound out of place in a musical drama.

Kendrick’s message is often contradictory but rarely incoherent, as the point of the album is basically that we have to work towards understanding our own truths, with unexamined judgements and behaviours fuelling the worst aspects of our lives. He's often tough on himself, whether he's raking over his infidelity, struggling with the violence that’s surrounded him from an early age or reckoning with what he feels to be his many emotional shortcomings. But he’s similarly scathing about everyone else too, lashing out hard at social media, the church and the superficiality of the modern world. Further to this, there are prominent appearances from the deeply unpleasant Kodak Black throughout, essentially emphasising the message of songs like Mother I Sober and Mr Morale, where Kendrick muses on the issues that keep black people in abusive cycles and chooses unconditional support for all, including forgiveness for the abusers. You may disagree with his ideas about this - and god knows I struggle with some of them - but it certainly provokes thought about a concept that's excruciatingly difficult to deal with. In the end, as he astutely points out on Crown, “you can’t please everybody”.

Ultimately, the important thing is that I liked the album a lot: often because of what it was saying, sometimes in spite of it and frequently when it was irrelevant because so many of the songs are absolute bangers. It is almost certainly the most adventurous record that I’ve listened to this year: Kendrick has often been someone who was prepared to break ground and go against the grain and the sheer weight of ambition on Mr Morale is hard to overstate. But the overwhelming feeling I take away from it is an enormous sense of respect for the man, both for his extraordinary talent and his willingness to put his emotional life on display in this manner. In the frequently ultra-masculine world of hip-hop, this is hardly a commonplace in any sense, but it’s hard to think of any other record at all which shows such an unvarnished, bold and often thrilling portrait of an artist who gives absolutely everything for his art.

August Danger Mouse and Black Thought - Cheat Codes

Cheat Codes finds Black Thought given a project to front that’s every bit the equal of his best work, as producer-to-the-stars Danger Mouse returned to hip-hop for the first time in an age to helm this absolute belter of an album. The Roots MC sounds fully in his element here, by turns witty, furious and, erm, thoughtful, as he dissects the modern experience of being black in America and spits some of his most musical and incisive bars in the process. Danger is, of course, entirely up to the task of backing him, armed with a plethora of scratchy old soul records and a trained ear for spotting the hook, as he makes Cheat Codes sound as inspired and enveloping as anything from the golden age of the genre.

The guests are, unsurprisingly, largely of a certain vintage (MF DOOM is even resurrected from beyond the grave on “Belize”) but all bring vital force to the LP, with Conway the Machine’s gritty sang-froid counterbalanced by the likes of Killer Mike’s punchy nervous energy. The title track is a particular standout, as Black Thought spins a beautiful and brutal web over Danger’s machine gun-style clatter, but there are few weak moments of any kind at all.

Bleakness does set in over the course of the album, as the neo-soul swagger of the first half gives way to an increasingly frosty outlook. But that’s all in keeping with its themes: there’s only so long that you can set a brave face to the harsh environment where these songs play out. If comparisons spring to mind, it’s perhaps something like Gil Scott-Heron and Brian Jackson’s Winter In America, another LP where its creators looked for solace under the weight of a country in shock. Such a lofty pedigree may sound tough to live up to but, in truth, Cheat Codes punches that weight pretty comfortably.

October Westside Gunn - 10

I’ve previously struggled to find a way into underground hip hop, but it’s only lately that I’ve stumbled across Westside Gunn and his Griselda label associates and I feel like I’ve been missing out on a lot. The vibe is, I guess, reminiscent of old east coast records, all gritty jazz and soul samples slowed down and hammered out of shape, with a shifting cast of hoods and crack dealers making moves over the top. But while I can’t deny that familiarity, there’s a genuine distinctiveness to the Griselda sound too, with its strange, sometimes beatless loops forming an hypnotic sludge which it’s easy to become immersed in. I can’t claim to be hugely versed in it all as yet, but 10 was an instant favourite when I first picked up on it last month and is as good a record as I’ve heard all year.

There are cameos galore from a stellar cast here (Wu-Tang, Black Star and Run The Jewels aren’t even the half of it) as well as a surprise nod to 60s psych singer Margo Guryan on “Science Class”. But it’s the more obscure turns which often stand out, especially the hilarious run from Gunn’s daughter Westside Pootie on “Nigo Louis” and the apocalyptic holler of DJ Drama’s narration over “Red Death”, the grisly epic that closes out the album. Best of all is “Shootouts in Soho”, a hazy and surprisingly poignant take on addiction, where Stove God waves away the crack smoke for long enough to soberly reflect “When the feds come, they don’t love you no more” over the eerie synth backgrounds.

While AA Rashid’s opening reflections on Gunn’s place in the enlightenment are clearly a bit of a goof, my guess is that he has a solid and serious point underneath: that Gunn - and Griselda’s area of hip-hop in general - should be taken seriously for the high level pop art that it is. But even putting that aside, his arch reflections on “where is the enlightenment in contradistinction to the renaissance?” make for the most entertaining opening to any hip-hop record I’ve heard all year, and from then on, right thru to Drama yelling out “And like that…we gone!” at the end, the whole album is full of similarly winning lines that help to puncture its murky atmosphere, a febrile counterpoint that stops it from sinking into the swamp of its foundations.

10 was the first Griselda record to come to my attention and it's the one that got me hooked. It’s creepy, fucked up and incredible: I can’t get enough of it.

November Weyes Blood - And In the Darkness, Hearts Aglow

I read an interview recently in which Weyes Blood was framed as the voice of Generation Y, an impassioned, world weary commentator on the emotional casualties of our digital age. If I’m honest, it all feels a bit ridiculous - who on earth wants to be the voice of a generation anyway - and in reality it’s surely not that simple: apart from anything else, is it really possible now in these increasingly fragmented times? But on Hearts Aglow, it does feel like she’s stepping into that idea of herself even more so than on previous albums and, remarkably, it’s a fit that only adds to the weight and power of her music.

Certainly, Natalie has a flair for taking her own circumstances and broadening them out to address wider issues: the opening “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody” uses her personal angst to fuel a grand statement about alienation, while “The Worst Is Done” rakes over the wreckage of the pandemic in unflinching emotional detail. All this is accentuated by the sweeping Laurel Canyon melodrama of the music and Merring’s rich and soothing vocals, which seem to have gained an increasingly mature depth since 2019’s Titanic Rising. It feels similar to the shift that Joni Mitchell’s voice made during the mid-1970s and fits perfectly with the new scope of her songcraft.

But perhaps what makes Heart’s Aglow such a remarkable record is how she manages to bring all this home at an individual level: she might be talking about all of our predicaments but when she turns that gaze towards herself, the surge of identification has an even greater poignancy to it. Whether it’s to do with her role in the wider questions she’s trying to address or simply “searching for a man who actually understands me” on the glorious title track, not only does Natalie seem to feel everyone else’s pain but, more to the point, we feel hers as well. Is she the voice of a generation? No, reader, she is not. But if Generation Y were really on the lookout for one, they could do a lot worse.

December Permanent Vacation - Shelf Life

Though released just three weeks ago, I’d wager that Shelf Life will have a somewhat longer, erm, shelf life than most of the records that came out this year. Permanent Vacation are an Anglo-American duo by way of Mexico City and their sound is one of haze and dust, late nights and broken mornings.

Juliette sings like English is her second language, with a husky, slightly hesitant delivery that feels like it's being broadcast from another universe. The music is minimal, a gentle acoustic guitar and some ghostly synths, with occasional piano notes that cut through with an unearthly clarity. Sentences drift by that don’t necessarily make much sense (“Do you know what it’s like to buy a paper?”, “I never told you you're a flower”), apparently meaning little but which begin to haunt after repeated listens. The mood is of low key drama, often brooding and fretful and which seems to mask a good deal left unsaid. “The King In Yellow” is named after an old horror story about a book that was said to drive its readers insane and, while I can’t truly say the same of the song (I still apparently retain my mental faculties), the unsettling vibe of Juliette’s strained voice and the staccato descent of the piano makes me understand something of what they're getting at.

More than anything, Shelf Life feels eerily evocative: amongst the things that came to mind while listening to it were the feeling of walking into a room which everyone had left ten minutes ago and seeing the echoes of their actions in object form, and waking up in a stranger’s house mid-afternoon, immediately wondering where you are and how yr going to get home. In a list where some of these albums will piss out the number of streams in a morning that this will get throughout the entirety of next year, this record goes to show that talent and recognition do not necessarily go hand in hand. In truth, Shelf Life is easily the equal of any of them.

And that's it. Or not, because this is just the top 10. There are in fact two more posts to come detailing the second tier of best albums of 2022, though I didn't write so much about them as they aren't quite as good. But I'll get on with posting them soon and will link to the next one here as soon as it exists. If anyone gets this far, thank you for reading.

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ackerfics · 3 years

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yellow — levi ackerman.

— levi ackerman x female reader (wizarding world au | harry potter au)

— warnings: none <3 just fluff

— summary: it’s the day of the ball and a special day at that. one that levi never paid attention to until this year. it’s a day filled with wishing he never took his first breath if it meant his mother’s last when he did. it’s a day of white lilies and the arctic chill of winter wonderlands. a day painted in death. that was until she painted everything yellow.

— word count: 7.5k

— notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEVI ^^ this fic is inspired by two asks who were requesting for an hp au with our beloved captain. it’s been a while since i’ve written something that reminds me of sleepless nights and nostalgia. i tried writing on a different route this time, mainly using levi’s point of view for the entire fic, with some insights on reader here and there. alsooo, my friend told me i give off ravenclaw vibes even tho i was sorted in gryffindor in pottermore so i feel like i connect with the house of blue and bronze more thru this fic.

side note, this is the dress i referenced, i had a hard time finding dress of that aesthetic but everything was worth it in the end because i found one. plus, i’m actually nervous about this one but to hell with it ^^ nonetheless, i hope you enjoy reading this !! consider this as my christmas gift to you. merry christmas, everyone!

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 | my masterlist

repost because tumblr is not my friend rn.

Yellow.

Levi doesn’t have a favourite colour — it’s something he never paid attention to while growing up. If someone were to ask him what he likes during cold days, he’d answer the bitter tang of black tea in a heartbeat. He can easily blurt out the candy his best friends always buys from Honeydukes (apparently, Erwin likes sugar quills just as much as the next wizard roaming in Hogwarts and Farlan adores chocolate frogs, saying that they’re hilarious to eat). Every single memory he created in the castle’s walls remained intact inside Levi’s mind, a vault of precious reels that sometimes play in a loop even when he’s trying so hard to pay attention to the Transfiguration spells McGonagall rapidly fires at their class. There are so many things he can list but he always falls short on one single thing — a fact so vital that some might even say it’s related to one’s personality trait. But Levi doesn’t care. He doesn’t get how someone’s first question in getting to know his character connects to what colour he strongly prefers.

Shades of yellow burst like splatters of paint in his vision.

Yeah, Levi doesn’t have one of those.

If one is part of the most notable pureblood families that became nearly extinct after Voldemort came into power all those years ago, it was expected that choosing a favourite colour became the least of his worries. When someone in search of strong allies comes for the remaining Ackerman wizards on the face of Europe, Levi never had time to think of childhood. His only surviving kin, an uncle by the name of Kenny the Ripper (a ruthless adversary to dark wizards), took him and his cousin under his wing and hid them in places not even the Death Eaters could chase after them. When they were old enough to be placed in Hogwarts, that was the time Kenny disappeared from the planet, never to be heard of again — like he was waiting for the time to get the brats from his hands. He was always saying that Hogwarts was the safest place for runts like them, though he had to wait two years to place Mikasa in the same place he left Levi.

Bullshit is Levi’s take on the matter.

How can he be safe when the fucking Chosen One goes to the same school as him? Even in the same year as his little cousin?

However, having a favourite colour is slowly materialising in front of him in the form of an unlikely individual.

“Is this seat taken?”

A third-year Levi looked up from making another sentence about Shrinking Solutions at a girl with a cheery disposition, who was carrying too many books in her arms. Levi had to squint to prevent himself from being blinded at her smile. It reminded him of the stars, the evening star to be exact. Judging from the books she was holding, she must be another Hufflepuff he didn’t know belonged in his year. After realising that he was staring at her for a good amount of time, Levi quickly looked down on his homework and shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her brighten immensely as if she was meant to shine.

“Thank Godric this spot is available. Who knows where I’d have to study if it weren’t.”

Levi discreetly glanced at her. His hand was still poised as if he was writing something, hoping that the girl was too busy organising her things to notice that he had long stopped finishing his paragraph. He had seen her a couple of times while passing the hallways to and from classes. She was always with that rambunctious brown-haired bespectacled person that never seemed to run out of conversation-starters. Now that she placed the books carefully around her spot on the long table, Levi picked up the noticeable shade of celestial blue in her tie.

Ravenclaw.

The House of human potential and wit beyond measure.

But what made Levi completely turn his head to her was the bright sunflower hair tie keeping her hair in a ponytail. Not to be someone who thinks of House stereotypes but finding something completely eye-catching like a sunflower hair tie on anyone that isn’t Hufflepuff painted Levi in bewilderment. Plus, he never knew her or her personality trait. It was just bizarre yet it fits her for some reason.

“Wait, is that Snape’s assigned homework?”

Levi met distinctly-colored eyes and briefly wondered if the overhead lights made her irises shine out of nowhere. He shook himself out of his stupor as the girl raised her eyebrow in curiosity. “I’m sorry,” Levi apologised with a slight shake of his head. “You were saying?”

She chuckled a bit. “What you’re writing on the parchment, it’s for Snape’s paper about Shrinking Solutions, right?”

It was a breath of fresh air. Finally, someone who wasn’t intimidated by the Ackerman name. He knew of his family’s reputation in the Wizarding World, some might say they never belonged to one House unlike other pureblood families or they’re too versed in their fields that they come off as unapproachable. For this particular girl, Levi was slightly shocked that she continued to start a conversation as if he’s a normal student without nobility as his last name.

“Yeah,” Levi found himself nodding, voice still barely a whisper. His eyes tore from her smile to the unfinished words on his parchment.

She sighed indignantly. “I never comprehend how Professor Snape just dumps this on our plates. The number of inches he requires for our essay doesn’t help either. The other unfinished essays on my part are begging to be written now that he assigned this to us.”

Levi nodded wordlessly. “It’s a pile of bullshit.”

“I know, right? Snape never has any mercy on those who aren’t Slytherin. I don’t remember Professor Flitwick favouring a whole class of us once in my life here.”

“Hmm.”

The onyx-haired boy never once looked up from his parchment. Upon hearing that she’s started writing, Levi inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t like any human interaction at the moment, seeing as he had a deadline to race. He hadn’t gotten past the halfway point of this essay. Taking a book from his pile, he opened to the many uses of Shrinking Solutions, choosing to elaborate on a specific point and hope that Snape would look past the flowery words that he was planning to write and give him a deserving mark. Now that he was slowly losing his touch with reality, Levi let the scratching of his quill flow around him as every word burst into life on his parchment. He could faintly hear someone flipping through a book beside him, also subjecting themselves to productivity. Levi was glad that this Ravenclaw was mindful enough to let them work in peace.

It was pretty uneventful. Minutes turned into hours as Levi finally placed a period in his last sentence. He expelled a breath, feeling the burden on his shoulders lessening as he stretched his arms above his head. One down, too many to go. He had to study for impromptu quizzes set for the following week, plus, he volunteered to help Professor Kettleburn with feeding the animals. With a final sigh, Levi stood up from his seat and tidied his things into his knapsack. The lack of movement in the seat next to him made him stop.

The girl was sleeping over her parchment, folded arms supporting her head. It looked like she had already finished her assignment. Fucking Ravenclaws and their innate talent of making schoolwork look like a piece of cake. An occasional hum came from her and Levi looked around the library to check if somebody heard her snoring. To their luck, the library was empty save for the two of them.

Without thinking about it, Levi gingerly shook her shoulder. “Hey, sunflower, wake up. It’s nearing dinner.” She only shrugged his hand off her shoulder. Levi tried again. “Sunflower.” He shook her shoulder harder albeit still gentle so as not to startle her. “Bloody hell.” Why did he even think this was a good idea — waking her up. She slept like a log. After a couple of attempts, Sunflower finally stirred from her slumber, her eyes squeezing shut before blinking up at an unimpressed Levi. “Good fucking morning, yellow,” he greeted her dryly.

“Yellow?” she murmured groggily, mind still in a drowsy haze as he lifted her head from her arms.

Levi merely rolled his eyes before fixing his knapsack over his shoulders and started making his way to the huge double doors of the library.

The girl was left baffled at the lack of response, her gaze following the onyx-haired wizard out of the library. With that, the Ravenclaw witch finally had her first encounter with the famed Ackerman. Of course, she was curious about him back when they were first years. He always kept to himself most of the time with that brooding expression of his that only rewarded him of one friend his entire stay in Hogwarts (if people could count the relentless pestering he got from one of her Housemates, Farlan Church, as a pact of friendship). Still, she wondered what compelled him to actually speak some words to her, even calling her nicknames (even though the reason was that he doesn’t know her name). Again, the Ravenclaw found herself looking at the huge clock on the library wall. With a start, she stood up and frantically shoved all her borrowed books and parchment into her shoulder bag. Hange would start worrying about her if she entered the Great Hall a minute late for dinner.

“Oh, bollocks, I hope Hange saved me a seat at the table,” she kept muttering until she went out of the chamber.

The next day, Levi got himself a gift from a Ravenclaw boy he knew to be Farlan. He was saying that Levi’s a lucky guy for getting a packet of sweets from one of the prettiest girls in their year, something Levi brushed off with a dismissive wave. It was a small package of sugar cookies from the breakfast earlier that day. It was a dainty gift, something he didn’t mind unless he had his tea with him. What surprised him, however, was the small note hanging from the mouth of the bag.

Thank you for waking me up in time for dinner.

— Yellow

Levi still has the note to this day and he is fucking ashamed of himself for keeping it.

It’s ironic how that nickname stuck when he’s the Hufflepuff one.

He didn’t even know her name at that time.

“Guess we’re partners today.”

For some reason, Snape partnered Levi with Yellow, the girl he woke up in the library a year prior. For their Potions class, they were assigned to learn and make Skele-gro for the day. Levi never comprehended how the Slytherin Head took it upon himself to warn them about the curriculum, how this year was supposed to be for researching poison antidotes before Christmas strikes across the castle. Great, he had to avoid a close encounter with death for his birthday. The potion they were trying to master for the day was just the start of another hectic year under the pointy nose of the dingbat that is Severus Snape. As he was about to flip through the section for Skele-gro, the chair beside him familiarly screeched.

Like deja vu, Levi looked up to the smiling Ravenclaw he nicknamed Yellow.

Levi only hummed and nodded with a blank expression plastered on his face, going back to his skimming. The girl made herself comfortable at his desk, also opening her book to where the detailed recipe for Skele-gro was etched on. He never missed how she kept glancing at him with curious eyes. It was making his skin itch, his temples tingling at the eye contact.

“What?” He couldn’t help but ask, not looking up from reading through the list of ingredients.

“[Name] [Last Name],” Yellow casually supplied.

Levi flickered his eyes to her brilliant ones.

At his furrowed brows, she cleared up, “Thought you didn’t hear it when Professor Snape called for our names, which is why I transferred to your desk. Plus, I never introduced myself in the library last year. It’s just common courtesy since I have an idea of who you are.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, a sneer pulling on his face. “Oh, yeah? Care to tell me what rumour you heard to have an idea about me?” He was expecting something about his uncle or family, how he was practically an orphan like the Chosen One who just entered this year since his said uncle vanished from the face of the planet. He was also expecting along the lines of him being the coldest Hufflepuff, how it was a miracle that such a rude-looking individual got the Sorting Hat shouting Hufflepuff at the top of its lungs (if it had any).

Yellow (he was going to keep calling her that, seeing as she now has a bright dandelion yellow ribbon tying her hair in a low half ponytail) returned the gesture of raising her eyebrow, surprised at the guarded expression on her classmate’s face. She tilted her head, akin to a dog. “I heard your name in the halls too often the past weeks. You’re the top scorer in the last Quidditch game, yes? The one who gave Hufflepuff their win. Some are saying that you’re to thank for having Hufflepuff a place higher than Ravenclaw in the Inter-House.”

Her tone didn’t indicate any bitterness. For the first time in his life, somebody took Levi by surprise. Of course, people were talking about how Hufflepuff dragged Ravenclaw to the ground with a huge point difference. Levi never thought that his points mattered, it was Diggory’s job as their Seeker to win the game. Levi’s voice wavered as he uttered, “Uh, I-I see.” He turned back to his book, cheeks starting to warm.

Yellow giggled before clapping her hands together. “Let’s gather the ingredients, shall we, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you then?”

“I have a name, you know. If you keep calling me that, you’re going to sound like McGonagall when she’s trying to make me speak in class.”

She laughed — a pleasant sound, much to Levi’s surprise. “Well, Levi, can you help me gather the ingredients for this potion?”

Levi blinked at her before standing up from his seat. “Let’s go, then.” When he registered that she wasn’t following him, he turned his head to find her staring at him with a small smile. “Oi, hurry up, Yellow, we don’t have all day.”

“I’m coming! Hey, wait up.”

“You’re too slow. We’re going to run out of the good ones with your pace, you know.”

“Making potions doesn’t have anything to do with how bad an ingredient is. You just have to make sure you know how to adapt when you have one.”

“You Ravenclaws and your idiotic reasonings.”

“Hey! I take great offence to that!”

“Good.”

She sputtered and Levi had to prevent a small smile from surfacing.

The girl named [Name] ignites so many emotions inside him that he thought was impossible. She manages to make him feel everything all at once with one look at her. All it takes is one look and he’s falling deeper into a pit that he has no clue of. The fourth year was spring, the fifth year was the catalyst.

Levi’s heart was pounding.

This can’t be happening. Why the fuck was this happening in the first place? Who in their right mind would put a fucking threat inside Hogwarts?

Levi swore his heart stopped when Hange, [Name]’s best friend, came barreling towards him in the middle of the hallway. He was talking to Erwin, a Slytherin Prefect who he was once cautious of because of his unnerving way of approaching people. (“Levi Ackerman, correct? Would you dedicate your heart to fight for what’s right in this battle between light and dark?”) Erwin was in the middle of telling Levi of this muggle contraption, something called a flashlight, when Hange stopped in front of them while shouting for Levi. He remembered Hange panting as if all air was sucked from their body, hands on their knees as they crouched. Their glasses were askew when they lifted their head, their next words dousing Levi in the freezing waters of the polar tundras.

“[N-Name], s-she,” Hange panted before continuing, “she’s petrified!”

Levi wasted no time in racing towards the Hospital Wing. He could hear Hange’s feet padding behind him but all he could think about was Yellow. He knew she wasn’t of pureblood, with her parents being from one of the other. It was a fact that was randomly brought out during one of their late-night talk sessions in the Astronomy Tower. Perks of being Hufflepuff’s Prefect. Levi cursed himself for thinking about those nights when she needed him in the Hospital Wing. His mind came to a blank slate when he asked himself what help could he give to her, to Madam Pomfrey and the professors concocting a cure for the petrified victims. With a fervent shake of his head, Levi ran even faster. Enough of the doubts. Yellow needed him right fucking now. She was petrified for fuck’s sake.

The condition of the Hospital Wing was heart-wrenching. Students were occupying the bedside of those who were affected by the petrification. From what Levi could recall, the last victims were Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater. If it wasn’t him, Hange was by her side or someone from her House if the former was too busy with their experiments. How come Yellow was petrified, too?

“Madam Pomfrey,” Levi called out.

The matron of Hogwarts turned around. “Mr. Ackerman, this way. Thank you for bringing him here, Hange.”

“No problem, Madam Pomfrey,” Hange answered. “[Name] would want it that way.”

Levi paused when he reached the bedside of his closest friend. What was causing these petrifications? Mindlessly, the onyx-haired boy gently ran his fingers on [Name]’s arm. From what Levi could tell, she was petrified when she was walking, head tilted to a certain direction, most likely the reflective surface she was staring at while the unknown culprit poised for the kill. His hand crept higher until he could feel the chill coming from her frozen face. Levi’s eyes drooped in regret for not being there with her. Curse their unaligned schedules this year. His fingers traced flowers on her skin, a message travelling from his fingertips, begging for her to wake up and come back to him. His chest was pinching now and then, jaw clenched and other hand curled in a tight fist.

“Don’t blame yourself, Levi,” Hange’s voice resounded from somewhere.

Levi never took his gaze from [Name]. “Why her?”

“Nobody knows the reason why the other students got petrified as well.”

“Yeah, but why her? She’s not even remotely close to the three idiots.”

“The others are not close to them, too, Levi.”

“I know,” Levi gritted. “But if that Potter kid doesn’t do anything about this, he’s going to know real hexes before he moves up another year.”

“Levi,” Hange whispered. “They’re right there on the other side of the room.”

Levi turned around and faced the direction where Potter and that redhead friend of his were situated. “Oi, Potter,” his voice boomed across the Hospital Wing. He saw how the said boy flinched at the threatening utterance of his name. Their eyes were wide when they knew of the person who called them. Levi wasn’t exactly a nice person to others despite being a Hufflepuff. The most they saw him smile was probably with the girl he was visiting. “If you don’t put a stop on this fucking shitshow, expect getting your arse kicked not only in Quidditch.” He didn’t care that the other occupants in the Hospital Wing stared at him as if they caught him cheating on a Quidditch game. “Not to put pressure on you but ever since last year, you earned quite a reputation in Hogwarts. You’re the only one who can stop this.”

That was Levi’s first interaction with the Chosen One.

“Levi, that was pretty harsh,” Hange stage-whispered with their hand covering their mouth.

Levi scoffed. “Harsh? That kid has a lot on his plate. I’m pretty sure he can handle a few blunt remarks here and there.”

“[Name] will be mad at you when she wakes up.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It’s safe to say that when Yellow woke up, not only did she paint his world with that colour, she also made sure to berate Levi for threatening a junior like that. It was pretty worth it actually because Levi finally heard her voice. His day was not the same without her voice twinkling like a fairy’s. So, when they were in their nightly meeting place, Levi leaned his head against hers as she talked his ear off, giving him his most peaceful rest in the entirety of his life.

“People often see Ravenclaws too shallowly.”

“Oh?” Levi murmured against her hair, breathing in the scent of her fruity shampoo, and shoulders touching while the stars looked on the two rumoured lovers.

[Name]’s fingers trailed over the yellowed pages of the book she borrowed from the library. This night was about mermaids, sirens, and their in-depth history. Creatures so magical that it enticed her while roaming around the library for hours on end just looking for the reference book containing the spells Professor McGonagall assigned for the entire class to study. The practical examination would have to wait if it meant quenching her curiosity. She was at the part where there was more than one kind of the alluring sea mystics, having stopped on the page that depicted the mermaids Muggle fairy tales usually described. The illustration of the flowy locks of hair and iridescent fins spurred the discussion unfolding at the moment.

The smile on her face was like the first effect of Amortentia on Levi.

“Care to tell me what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?” Levi asked, taking one of her hands to draw random patterns that mimicked the mermaids’ hair in the book.

“Smart. Quick-witted. Wise. Those are usually the words associated with our House. It’s sometimes linked to the shut-in bookworms.” Her voice was so soft that Levi had to lessen their distance until her breath could be felt on his skin. It was doing wonders to his pattering heart, but he chose to swallow the rising flower petals in his throat and let the waves of friendship wash over him. His heart lurched when he felt her dainty fingers tap his fingertips. She continued telling him with a light chuckle, “I like to think we’re more than that.”

Levi tilted his head. The moonlight washing over her figure outlined her hair glow a beautiful silver. The blessing of the Moon granted her miniature stars on her eyelashes.

“People forget that the human mind is capable of many things — that there is more than what meets the eye. Logic and reasoning are not the only things that bind us as a House. Yes, we have the smartest students in our dormitories but if we were driven mostly by facts, Hermione Granger should be a Ravenclaw.” Yellow buried her face more in her scarf, embarrassed that she said the last statement. She heard Levi laugh through his nose beside her, an indication that he agreed. “Nevertheless, I personally think that Ravenclaw is the House of the Arts and seeing life in curiosity. We explore the capacity of the human mind just as much as Gryffindors explore the tangible world. Within the human mind comes creativity, which births music, art, literature, and magic. It’s quite sad when I hear people refer to us as the dorks, that we’re incapable of looking up from our books.”

“You’re a dreamer in my eyes.” Levi lowered his voice even though it was only the two of them in one section of the Astronomy Tower. A look of surprise flashed on her face as their gazes met. “From what I can gather, not only are you and your Housemates the most formidable people I know, you Ravenclaws carry the stars inside you. And for me, you carry the brightest one in the entire galaxy.”

The splashes of yellow created a symphony of first love.

A graceful smile pulled on [Name]’s lips. “And you’re an adventurer in my eyes.”

Levi imperceptibly narrowed his eyes. “I think you mixed me with the wrong House, Yellow.”

One of his favourite sounds rang true in the chamber. The remnants of her laugh remained as a huge smile as she said, “An adventure for the sake of an adventure, that’s what you are.” At the curious raise of his eyebrow, [Name] elaborated. “There are adventurers who let their purpose be driven by knowledge, glory, and power, but, Vi, you go out to explore the world simply because you have the heart and courage to do it without a goal in mind. You value the things you find along the way, having no regrets and being proud of doing the right things no matter how small they are. You let your heart guide you and I know that’s the most amazing trait a person could ever have. And you have it, every single day when I’m with you. You’re shamelessly human and I think that’s the most beautiful thing ever, Levi.”

The pink on Levi’s cheeks travelled towards his ears, heating his face until he could feel his entire body ignite like a furnace. [Name] had no idea the effects she had on him. The beat of his heart became too loud that he feared she might hear it as well. There’s no doubt that he was looking at her like she had the entire universe painted on her body. Every word went straight to his heart as if Cupid had a good time launching a multitude of arrows in his direction.

What a fucking pulchritudinous person. And she had him speechless.

[Name]’s face twisted in concern at his silence. “Did I say too much?” She tended to overshare things, sometimes over-analyze some of her friends to the point of distancing.

Levi blinked. “N-No, you’re—”

She looked away from him with a sheepish laugh. “Prying, I know.”

His hand cupped her cheek in the most gentle way possible like she was the most fragile thing to ever exist on the planet. Which she was starting to become to him. Her wonder was something he vowed to protect. He slowly placed his forehead against hers, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “You’re,” he breathed before gulping, “absolutely brilliant.”

“You’ve said that a hundred times since we met, Vi. Well, since last year because you’re so quiet when we were in our third or fourth years.”

“And I’ll never get tired of saying it. You have a way with things and words that makes me feel so … at home.” He was about to say his feelings outright but good thing he caught himself before blurting everything out in the open. “I don’t know how to explain it.” Oh, he did. The courage bestowed by his House vanished in thin air. “But you are so amazing that I can’t help but think you’re way out of my league.”

“I should be the one to say that,” she retaliated. “Have you heard of what they say about you?”

A glint of amusement sparkled Levi’s eyes. “Hmm? What do they say?”

She cleared her throat, posture straightened with a determined look on her visage. The smile on her face never wavered as she iterated, “The vice-captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team and the most remarkable Chaser in all of Hogwarts. The kindest student for helping the professors without asking for anything in return. The most enigmatic student in the castle captured the interest of the whole student body. I must say, there are far more things that they say but those three make up the summary.”

“But what do you think of them?”

“What?” She was taken aback.

“What do you think of what they say about me?”

“I think it’s true to the Levi I have known for three years.”

Once again, he expected that answer but he still found himself flushing. He hoped she didn’t pick up on that. It was merely a question to feed his curiosity of what the person of his affections thought of him. He cleared his throat. “Hmm.”

“I never lie, Levi. You are all of those things and so much more. I’ve seen you fly through the stadium during your matches and you’re glowing like the Sun. I’ve helped you offer your aid to the professors and even though you never smile around them, I can tell that you enjoy doing good deeds without any rewards. Your mysterious persona was what captured my interest in the first place. I’ve always wanted to talk to you but you seem to glare at every breathing thing once they step within a three-metre radius. But behind everything that they say, I’ve seen you talk so animatedly about your favourite Quidditch teams or your favourite subjects.” [Name] gently placed her palm against Levi’s warm cheeks. “In conclusion, you’re the one that’s way out of my league.”

Levi rolled his eyes, shying away from her grasp. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he murmured. “Can we talk about mermaids now?”

She laughed. “Of course, Vi. Whatever you want.”

He never knew that the human heart could beat this fast.

A dreamer and an adventurer written in the stars.

“Ackerman.”

What a fucking good start.

“Yes, Professor?” Levi forced out a polite tone.

Snape looked down at him and Levi stared right back.

“Can you tell me what potion is on the table right now?” Snape said in that drawl of his that seemed to make Levi’s skin crawl.

Levi glanced at the table in front of the entire class and inwardly grimaced. “Amortentia, Professor, the strongest love potion. One whiff of it becomes the most attractive to one person even if they’re unaware of their fondness for the reason behind the scent. It is said to invoke extreme infatuation that becomes an obsession once you’re administered it.”

“Very well, ten points to Hufflepuff,” Snape rewarded.

Please, don’t call names to announce what we can smell.

“Smith, what’s the next potion?”

Levi visibly let out a breath of relief. Across the room, he caught the eye of Erwin and the fucking tree had the audacity to knowingly smile before answering Snape. He knew that look. He was always on the receiving end of that look, whether from Hange, Erwin, Farlan, or Mike. It always had something to do with a certain Ravenclaw who had an affinity for his House colour. The last time he received that look was when Erwin caught him staring at [Name] for a long period, describing Levi’s face as someone who just drank all the love potions in the Wizarding World. Was he that subtle with his feelings for her or was his Yellow just oblivious? Maybe shifting to the latter because his entire friend circle would sometimes remind him that his drool was starting to show with all the gawking he did. Day by day, he was getting closer to socking someone in the face.

As the class went on, as usual, a theory-oriented one that everybody was wishing for, Levi detected the most addicting scents entering his senses. He felt himself droop in comfort; it was a tantalising sillage of a mixture of fruits (bananas, strawberries, and lemon — almost a fruit salad), pages of an old book that was most likely from the library, and—Levi had to prevent himself from looking like an idiot in the middle of class.

It was only when he resurfaced from the Slytherin dungeons with Erwin that he felt his whole face burn. He never heard Erwin tell him, “You look like a tomato, Levi.” All he saw was his Yellow, walking towards the staircase, her Ravenclaw robes flattering her. The sight of that infamous hair tie that captured his attention greeted his vision when she ascended on the stairs to the Divination classroom.

The last scent was a field of sunflowers.

Levi shakes himself from his daydreams to not let the others know he’s not paying attention. Butterbeer overpowers the interior of the Three Broomsticks as a good number of Hogwarts students spend their holidays in the castle, courtesy of the Triwizard Tournament. His group of friends is mostly there to buy things for the Yule Ball, a troublesome event that will take place in a few days and the subject of Levi’s annoyance. In the course of three days, Levi received a total of four proposals from girls he never knew existed in Hogwarts. All of them he rejected and now he’s placed in a situation where he was aware that some boys might ask [Name] to be their partner for the Yule Ball. His hand on his mug of Butterbeer tightens at the thought.

“You should ask her, Levi,” Erwin says from in front of him.

Levi hums and takes a sip of his beverage. “What’s to say she already said yes to the others who asked her?”

Farlan snorts. “You think Miss Head Girl said yes to them?”

“She said yes to you when you asked her to hang out in Hogsmeade to ward off your ex or Erwin when he needed a date for his parents’ gala or something.”

“That’s because we’re her friends, Levi,” Erwin supplies but it’s obvious Levi is starting to overthink. “And I doubt she wants either of us to ask her to the ball.” He shares a knowing glance with Farlan, who shrugs with a mirthful grin on his face. Both of them know how Levi fancies the brilliant Ravenclaw everybody in Hogwarts seems to adore as well. They’re the witness to his floundering whenever she’s around, how he appears to be fidgeting with his fingers, or the tell-tale flush that’s prominent on his skin. “So I think you should go and ask her. She’s definitely not going to say no. I mean, it’s you we’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?” Levi raises an eyebrow.

Farlan rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on! Don’t pretend that you two are not the rumoured lovers. We’ve seen everything, Levi. You can’t deny that she returns your feelings. Everyone can see that she does.”

Levi scoffs a laugh. “No, she doesn’t. Why would she? I mean, I’m not exactly deserving of her. She’s …” He slowly blinks at his mug, a sheen of yellow-coloured glasses covering his eyes. “Luminous.”

Snickers ring from across him, successfully annoying the hell out of him.

“You’re drooling, Levi,” Farlan guffaws.

Erwin chuckles. “Which is more reason for you to ask her. I know she’ll say yes. Come on, when has she ever turned down any of your Hogsmeade invitations.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, I never invited her,” Levi drawls. “It’s the other way around.”

“There you go!” Farlan points out with his hand gripping the handle of his mug, mouth outlined with froth from his drink. “She never asked other people to go with her, it’s always you! So, make the first move this time. Ask her to be your date for the ball and I bet she’ll appreciate that more.” The blond leans forward as he places his mug on the table. His gaze arrests Levi, who’s about to bail and make a run for it. Farlan has an idea that Levi is adamant to get out of the hot seat. “If you spoke about your feelings to her, all of us know that love will return. Would you rather let it be spoken inside you until it becomes too soft for her to hear?”

Levi glowers at Farlan, jaw clenching at his friend’s words. “Damn Ravenclaws and their logic.”

“Am I wrong though?”

The onyx-haired boy breathes out a sigh.

“It’s your call, Levi,” Erwin tries to help.

It takes Levi a couple of minutes to collect himself. The outcome of the proposal is walking down on the grand staircase of the castle, taking the breath of everyone that’s watching.

Yellow.

It’s the day of the ball and a special day at that. One that Levi never paid attention to until this year. It’s a day filled with wishing he never took his first breath if it meant his mother’s last when he did. It’s a day of white lilies and the arctic chill of winter wonderlands. A day painted in death. That was until she painted everything in yellow.

Tulle and silk flutter against the steps, a goddess descending from the heavens — too divine for a mortal eye. And Levi is a devout follower. The goddess in question is a wearer of blue and bronze but she dons the colour yellow like the luminary that she is. Every clink of her shoes on the floor lessens the distance until she stands in front of her temple. The gown is a simple one yet she shines amongst the silver and dull colours in the chamber. Attached to the bodice are tulle off-shoulder sleeves coming to her wrists. Adorned on the dress’ material are little crystals akin to dewdrops. Her temples carry delicate gold flower headpieces, with tiny jewels to match the crystals on her dress. Levi is once again speechless and he only stands there with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide, taking her in.

[Name], his Yellow, is a divine deity of beauty and wisdom among mortals.

“Happy birthday, Levi,” she greets with a beautiful smile that makes him weak in the knees.

Levi closes his mouth, gulping his nervousness. “Thank you,” he whispers, too scared for his voice to crack if he modulates it.

Her laugh is like the fairies in the immense ceiling above them. He swears everything brightens at the sound. “Did somebody take your tongue? I swear this is the quietest you’ve ever been. Is something wrong?”

Levi inhales a deep breath. “No, nothing is wrong. I …” You’re so beautiful. He wants to say that but no words are coming out of his mouth. He’s starting to feel his hands becoming clammy and his heart dancing to a nervous tune. “You clean yourself nicely, I see.”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “You clean up nicely as well, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Shall we?” Levi offers his arm, still focused on the beauty in front of him.

“We shall.”

The Yule Ball is an event for lovers. Of friends and newfound sparks. It’s a night of magic.

For once in Levi’s life, he never thought of how his mother gave up her life for him to experience the world in its rawest form. For once in his life, Levi never wants this day to end. He will not let anything take away what’s standing in front of him. He feels Time at a standstill. As they dance to the orchestra’s waltz, Levi feels his lips tugging in a smile and he lets it surface on his face. He can see the glimmer of awe in her irises and his smile grows, foreheads softly pressing on each other. Their noses are touching and the little snow magic flurrying around them adds to the romance. Everybody vanishes from sight, just the two of them in this gentle winter wonderland. Levi knows that the moment they met was the day he realised he finally found his home. That little sunflower keeping her hair together, the laughs that warm the entire room, the yellowed pages she brushes her fingers on, and the glimmer of a promise of forever present in her smile.

It’s the first time Levi feels happiness on his birthday. A feat that will be remembered for years on end.

When the waltz dies down and the thumps of a rock band are waking the fairies from their perch, Levi lets [Name] pull him from the Great Hall. Their shadows dance on the walls, silently prancing from the professors’ sights until they come to their spot in the Astronomy tower. There are a couple of people there, lovers needing the recluse from all the festivities. The gentle hand encasing his own pulls him to their usual spot, right next to the balcony overseeing the entirety of the Hogwarts property. The stars above are shining more than ever, for winter is at its peak. Real flurries of snow tip-toe inside to their spot, kissing their skin in a reassurance that the night won’t be as cold as they perceived it to be.

“I couldn’t thank you enough for getting me out of the misery of watching a concert,” Levi states, hand now encasing hers, with the other finding home in her waist.

She laughs before shivering at the winter breeze. Instantly, Levi takes off the jacket of his robes, tenderly putting it on her shoulders. Upon doing so, their gazes meet and he can feel himself leaning in, both of his hands now pulling her in by her waist until their chests are against each other. It doesn’t register to him that she’s doing the same. Maybe it’s the magic of winter or the wish he foolishly made earlier in the day to give him a moment of peace with his Yellow. A surge of confidence takes over him.

“Yellow reminds me of you.”

“Really?” Her voice is soft-spoken.

Levi’s lips descend first on her cheek. “Yes. You make me warm all over like I just touched the Sun without falling like Icarus.” Next, he brushes them on the corner of her lips. “I never once thought that my House colour could bring me so much comfort and homeliness. I never thought that — until I met you.” He looks at her in the eye and finds them glassy with unshed tears. “You invoke so much happiness in me like no one else does. Every day when you’re with me, I feel like the best person I can be. You’re my reason, my biggest adventure, my haven, [Name].

“You’re my favourite colour.”

“And you’ve always been mine, Levi. Right from the start, I know that it’s you.” [Name] tilts her head, her lips brushing on his. “I dream of you every single day. I might not say this out loud in flowering words but I’m so happy right now. I feel like I can catch falling stars, knowing that you return my feelings.”

Levi’s eyelids flutter. “Return my feelings?”

“Yes,” she gleefully giggles. “I fancy you, too, Levi Ackerman.”

“You just made me the happiest, Yellow.”

Their lips meet and suddenly everything feels right and whole.

It’s soft and unyielding — their love for one another. When they pull away, all they can see is each other. Another kiss is placed on her cheek, a hum of a laugh coming from Levi as a smile once again becomes visible. [Name] effortlessly elicits them from him. Their hearts are offered to one another to keep as well as their hands to hold.

“This is officially the best birthday.”

“Oh!” [Name] slightly pulls away from a confused Levi, her hands opening her extendable purse. From the confines of her bag, she waves a present in front of Levi, wrapped pretty with a golden bow.

“You shouldn’t have.” In reality, his heart is full, as indicated by his smile.

“Of course, I should have.” She hands it to him, eager to see his reaction. “It’s the special day of my favourite person.”

Taking his hands off her waist, Levi chuckles while unwrapping his present. His eyes slowly widen at what seems to be a thick hardbound book. It’s bulging and he curiously opens to the title page. He glances at her giddy smile at the words she wrote on the paper. A Page a Day. On the next page, his heart races in his chest, spurring the butterflies to fiercely beat their wings. For my Yellow. “How did you—”

“It’s mainly because you’re a Hufflepuff. Did I ever tell you that yellow suits you the best?”

Levi hums with a smile. “We really do think alike.”

“Great minds, they say.”

He playfully rolls his eyes, continuing on his journey with his present. He then discovers that the book carries a tea bag for each day, every single one a different flavour with little handwritten notes under the tea bag. Utterly stunning. “Did I ever mention that you’re absolutely brilliant?”

[Name] looks away with a grin. “Only about a thousand times now. I assume you like the present?”

“You have no idea,“ Levi utters. "Come here.” He pulls her in his arms, his favourite sound becoming music to his ears.

Another kiss has been shared and birthdays are never the same again for one adventurer — his dreamer finally in his reach.

212 notes · View notes

akkivee · 2 years

Text

i did something similar last year but who cares about rehashing answers ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

1) i actually posted about it lol but i say my hypmic anniversary is when death respect came out!!! i got into around that time when a third jp merch site i used to shop at had a listing for bbmtc patches and yamada ichiro’s patch was the cutest thing i had ever seen lmao

2) besides ichiro’s face lol i listened to dba and was sold

3) hm!! i think it tracks with other stuff i obsess with!!! there’s characters with depth, finding bonds with each other/being found family, with a healthy dose of action!!!! the fact it’s told thru music is a plus; the fandoms i hung around longest in the past utilised character songs to supplement their character and i lost my mind then much similarly to the way i do now lol

4) i didn’t have a negative opinion on anybody the moment they appeared actually!!!! (except for rei lol but that was because he was disrespecting ichijiku and not for his crimes as a deadbeat dad lol) obvs the ones who stood out were ichiro, then jakurai, and then kuukou lol

5) ichiro!!!! ❤️

6) mtc and rei actually!!!! like mtc was my least favourite division when it was just the og divisions!!!! ‘somebody gotta do it’ and ‘don’t play no game that i can’t win’ dropped and that’s when my opinion of them changed but i’m not sure when i became significantly less normal about them lol 🤔 as for rei, i had a negative opinion from the get go and being bb’s father certainly didn’t help, but then i used my brain and embraced his mystery and his clowniness lol

7) buster bros in the house still number one☝️

8) i went from being a natural ichiro enjoyer, to a ‘not so normal’ jakurai liker, to a ‘i need him to breathe’ kuukou stan lol

9) dba!!!! and like a loser too lol i really did mean to listen to all the songs in order 💀

10) fav solo is break the wall but we’ll see how i’m feeling after year with nagosaka’s new solos hitoya and sasara’s are some real contenders lol

11) kaigen 😭😭😭😭😭😭

12) BATTLE OF PRIDE IS SO GOOD YALL

13) i’m assuming this is manga release songs and i really like rip, double trouble and murder in the house of magic lol

14) a toss up between hoodstar➕ and summit of divisions lol

15) are there any really lol???? i don’t interact with the fandom enough to know if there are songs that are universally considered mid or worse lol lemme know if there are

16) BAD ASS TEMPLE ONLY KNOWS HOW TO PUT OUT BANGER AFTER BANGER LOL

17) ichiro dice and sasara!!!!!!

18) honestly the better question is who don’t i listen to lol. i try to listen to the composers works when their collaborations are announced!!

19) i have been praying for queen bee/avu-chan to write something for kuukou, and i hope that when if we get solos for the ladies, goddess artist eill writes for honobono because i’m ready for this godawful woman to have the best j-hiphop song in this franchise LOL

20) i can’t remember if it was batfs or moonlight shadow that i was on the screen while my mom was home but she thought it was a jam so probably a bat song tbh

21) i have demoted myself to arb enjoyer from a distance lol 😭😭😭

22) shit arb’s been keeping me satisfied like all hell lmao!!!!! arb should give me an event with samatoki kuukou and juto tho lmao but oooooooh what if we got events with the mixed up divisions??? that’d be dope 😲

23) HAHA yeah i’m a huge multishipper. there are very few ships i don’t like, and my shipping bicycles have been both jakurai and samatoki, but you can easily flay me alive with ichikuu and riodice crumbs and i’ll break down thank you lmao

24) i’m not a self insert kinda person lol

25) since i’m introverted i’d probably get along best with someone like ichiro or jakurai. i can only love kuukou from a far i don’t think i could handle him lmao

26) no i’m not a kinnie lmao but i’m probably like a mashup between ramuda and jyushi with a dash of jakurai’s general dilf dad friend attitude, what ever that monstrosity would look like as a character lmao

27) *drowning in hypmic merch* i have some :) lol and I REALLY WANTED THAT BAT TOTE BAG I WISH I KNEW IT EXISTED BEFORE LAST WEEK 😭😭😭

28) it’s not weird, i just want a large figurine of kuukou like the ones we got for rhyme anima 😭 he’ll probably look ugly but that’s okay he’s my gremlin scrunkly 😌

29) vocaloid collab??? a different mobage collab??? like idk what if ainana and hypmic collabed we could get the fattest spiderman pointing meme going on lol

30) i think there is a lot of empty air in between the 6 colours and mixed up tracks like how okay is samatoki and ramuda’s relationship really??? ramuda didn’t sound too enthused by jakurai’s desire to help even in the fling posse inc track. if chuuoku intends to use sasasama and ichikuu against each other i would like to see them really rekindle that friendship!!! and more of the mixed up divisions 🤭

31) i understand if rei’s not your cup of tea lol but he is a lot of fun lol. rosho tends to get slept on a lot in the sense that he’s kinda just sasara’s man, but only that and it kinda sucks a little lol. also!!!! if rio and hitoya have millions of numbers of fans i am one of them. if rio and hitoya have ten fans i am one of them. if rio and hitoya have only one fan that is me. if rio and hitoya have no fans, that means i am no longer—

32) THIS IS LIKE ASKING WHY DO WE NEED THE SUN TO SUSTAIN LIFE I JUST LOVE KUUKOU DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED LOL

33) hmmmmm how about: tho kuukou isn’t afraid of ghosts, when he was much younger, on a trip to the beach with his family, he saw all of the dead souls that the ocean has claimed reaching out to him as if to pull him into the ocean and claim him. so some of that fear comes from a bad supernatural childhood experience

34) liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike nemu?????? nemu???????? nemu??????????????? i also have taken unami and ren as lowkey ocs and supplanted personalities that are very self indulging to what i want for kuukou lol

35) bat has everything i don’t have packaged with everything that i love and it’s so dope like wtf??? wtf????

36) idk which hypster magazine it was but one of the magazines asked the characters what’s something they’ve been into lately. jyushi answered with muscle training and it’s 💯% because on a hot and sunny day, where kuukou quite frequently used his shirt to wipe up the sweat from his face and hitoya sweated thru both his undershirt and dress shirt, he was exposed kuukou’s abs and hitoya’s surprisingly fit body and thought to himself, ‘god i wish that were me’ lmao

37) i don’t want any new divisions at all but if we were to get some, i’d hope they’d be from okinawa, hokkaido or kyoto

38) i cyberstalk hayama-san as best as i can lol and i watch sakakihara-san, takeuchi-san, and iwasaki-san’s web shows occasionally!!!! i also poke around whatever mtc’s seiyuu are doing every once in a while 🤗

39) watching the hyprice grow to hypmic music has been very enlightening lmao

40) i’m still pretty proud i pumped out a whole month worth of kuukou art for his bday lol. also the fanart i just posted for bat solos might be some of my best stuff actually like how did i do that kuukou one fr

41) i prefer the manga/drama tracks, but the stage’s phenomenal writing will always have me in a vice grip lol

42) i’m banking on ‘if we hesitate etc’ being the most emotionally draining experience that canon will ever put me thru because if because if bat goes thru something like that i may never recover actually lmao

43) i feel like i’m an observer rather than a theorist??? but i made an observation that bat has a weathering the storm motif a while back from their speakers and mics and hitoya wound up stating just that in cross a line so that made me feel pretty accomplished lol

44) I WANT TO SEE THE FALL OUTS!!!!!!! HOW DID KUUKOU AND SASARA DEAL WITH THEIR SUDDEN SEPARATION AND HOW THEY SNAPPED OUT OF THEIR HYPNOSIS!!!!!!!! RAMUDA PICKING HIMSELF UP FROM JAKURAI DISAPPOINTING HIM!!!!!!!!!!! MORE OF THAT PLS!!!!!

45) nobody irl but to all of those who sent me asks/dms, know that i appreciate it and i would k—

46) fck the drbs but also it’d be nice if bb or mtc won but also kuukou would look 🥵 on a throne soooooo

47) idk if anyone in this cast is considering the ramifications of taking over/overthrowing the government. i think it’d be neat to see a 2nd gen hypmic with new divisions scrambling to survive the power vacuum our gen has caused and the og gen has effectively become the antagonists to the 2nd gen. it’d be like a cycle!!!! otome took over the government for more altruistic reasons but is as oppressive as her predecessor; same hat, og gen overthrew the government for the good of all but didn’t have any plans to fix it, only to remove and creates even more discord

48) comfort???? a fandom home????? massive brainrot????? pick your poison lol

49) save your wallets and don’t lol the characters are fun!!!! the music can be a gateway to something you’ve never experienced!!!!!! you can lose hours of your life trying to find the details!!!!!!!!! it’s fun!!!!!!! 😄

50) lol i have a tattoo, that’s plenty reminder ✌️

#vee queued to fill the void #i posted a lot yesterday so while I intended this to be for yesterday #i decided to post it today lol

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barzzal · 4 years

Text

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night.

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve.

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay.

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin.

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath?

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor.

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you.

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila.

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along.

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays.

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended.

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth.

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time.

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way.

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city.

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for.

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar.

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her.

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug.

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with.

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second.

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone?

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation.

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl.

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line.

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat.

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.”

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.”

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?”

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.”

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?”

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well.

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.”

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin.

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.”

“Exactly.”

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers.

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.”

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you.

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.”

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind.

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.”

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone.

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?”

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys.

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly.

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him.

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him.

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you.

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin.

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab.

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.”

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make.

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?”

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers.

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at.

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach.

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window.

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.”

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind.

“Come on, I know where we should go.”

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career.

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night.

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point.

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm.

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze.

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.”

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him.

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble.

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.”

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence.

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did.

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago.

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds.

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.”

“A crappy one, of course.” You add.

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.”

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays.

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was.

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year.

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play.

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly.

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.”

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment.

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion.

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured.

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years.

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so.

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat.

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard.

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause.

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night.

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice.

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween. What he loves more than that? You.

pairing. gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating. idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded. it’s just that fluffy. (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings. established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower.

wc. 9.7k

beta reader(s). the lovely @kerikaaria read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy. tysm! 💛 i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly. oops...

author note. this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves. while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside. i hope you enjoy it!

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened. You remember, faintly, the mention of a party. Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc. He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought. If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway. Win-win or whatever.

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge. Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean.

“Zarya’s one! Zarya’s one—“ You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen. You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too. There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch. “Zarya’s actually one!”

No one cares. She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map.

“Jesus—“ Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue. You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.

I need healing! I need healing!

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though. There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point. Stupid. You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support.

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked. So infuriating and yet— nope. Just infuriating.

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise. Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise. He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face. You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru. He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team. A silver lining, you suppose.

Your second round starts well enough. Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta. Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana. You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn. Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost. (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado. The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong. Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter.

“You winning?”

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction. You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.

(It’s not your own fault. He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!” You want to be more mad. Really, you do. You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long. Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn.

“What?” Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime.

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves. All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder. You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days. You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery.

It’s a little distracting; he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual. You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck. Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see; it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over. You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication. (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.)

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so. You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words).

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet.

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya? She has grav.” Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon. Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock. If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game.

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void. Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces. Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next. Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,” says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head. He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match. It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.

“Rip is right,” you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map. If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms. Jungkook chuckles at that.

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well. There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested. Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”

You don’t turn your head. Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you. Sometimes, you love it; other times, you hate it. Most times, though, he’s right. He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame).

“Can we go top left?” You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main. Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team. Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited. “You should be back right by the stairs. You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point. Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav. She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you. As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen.

“Told you,” he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore.

“I was going to say thank you.” Just not right now. You can’t multitask quite like he can.

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display. “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock. Thank freaking god. You can win this, you think. Easy. No problem.

“Go Ana on defense.” At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth. You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin.

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time. He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat.

“Do you just want to play?” You don’t mean it seriously. You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you. It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship.

“Nah, I’m snacking.” He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon.

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions. He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do. He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do. He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t.

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair. You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears.

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game. There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back.

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie. “We won,” you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug.

“Of course you did.” He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you. He’d been a great coach.

“What’re you doing here?” It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest. He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair. (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines. You don’t care.)

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.” You remember, because you’d been disappointed. Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,” he states, like he’s talking to a moron. You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen. Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena. It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it.

“Yeah, we,” Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker. “Halloween party, baby. Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises: (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party? You didn’t think idols had those. Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no. Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.” It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach. It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day.

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face. It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way. Why’s he looking at you like that? Why’s your memory so bad? Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions?

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance. It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage. A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns.

“I— don’t remember that.” You’re lying through your damn teeth. Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass.

“But you did!” He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal. It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me! You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate.

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here. It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia. “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular. You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish.

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs. (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs. You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.) It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing. The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames. Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them; Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.

“I don’t think I can pull this off,” you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious. (You were, once. Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.)

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places. Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest. You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it. (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention. Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you. You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp. A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue. “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance. It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway. “You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I don’t have to say anything,” he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten. It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot. It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart. “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then. He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened. He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom. How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure. All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up; yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug. You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson. They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay— that was scary. I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.” A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees. It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?” You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there. He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms; he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh. His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised; Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer. (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.” Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end. It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature. You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee. Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact. A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious. You look—” You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose. A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon. “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it. Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders. You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!” You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself. All part of his plan, you suppose. “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.

“Okay! Sorry!” Except he doesn’t look very sorry. More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you. You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie. You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment. (Not that you really mind.)

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip. It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting. Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks. It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love.

Today, it comes after the fourth count.

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.” Well, of course you will. As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas. It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams.

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times. “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins. It’s unfairly adorable. Still, you push. Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you. From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted.

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot. You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum. A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to. You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you; rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.” By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful. The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday.

It turns out to be the opposite: one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend. He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger. You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another. For tonight, they’re one and the same.

“Joker? Seriously?” You can’t hide the delight. It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction. Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask. “Don’t sound so excited.” It’s an actual concern of his. He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more. He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting.

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky. You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises. It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently. You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared; you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.” You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes. It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes. It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling. Bastard. “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker. You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter. He’s dressed this way because you like the character.

“Oh,” you say, because there’s not much more to say. Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it.

“Yeah,” he parrots back, a little smug.

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life. He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set. You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better. (You suppose he is.)

“Angel, come here!” He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side. Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love. There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball. You don’t mind. You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.

“I’m winning,” he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh. Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst. Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.” You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element. He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some. It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is). “How many games have you won?” Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.” God, his ego. You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best. Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck. He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you. To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.

“Can we play?” Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks. You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs. Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend. (How fitting.) “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch. “No, you’re just bad at games!” He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes. Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink. In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus. (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?) You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily. Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.” And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond. He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life.

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”

“Ahhhhhh, stop!” It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own. Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads. “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!” You know it isn’t true. Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines). But together? It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.

You absolutely loved it.

“Sure, sure,” the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot. One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins. A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour. You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one. Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour. “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.

“Drink this!”

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?” You’re incredulous. Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl. It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless. Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!” The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too. “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy? It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?).

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it. Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body. “Don’t die!” He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”

“No, you’re fine.” He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up. You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement. “Your face, oh— Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane. You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together. It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor. Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms. You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?” It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies. He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile. “What’re you doing down there?”

“Just hanging out,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft. A modern day olive branch. “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close. Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like. It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like. Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away. You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness. “You sound drunk, angel,” he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek. It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin. It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves. “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,” comes Jimin from beside you. There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment. It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him. He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation. When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case. “Want to head home?”

You do. You really, really do.

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are. Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—” There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet. “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway. “Sorry,” you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused. It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.” He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh. Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away. “Here, let me.”

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time. (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,” you tease, clinging to him like a koala. You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven. “Or are you the court jester? That’s what Joker is, right?” It’s a joke and a bad one at that. Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.

“You’re drunk.” He says it more kindly than you expect. Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve. You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded. There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare. It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought. You have to tell him. Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it. “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down. As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands. (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.) “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?” You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon. You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.” It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that. You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style. You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression. “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does. You pout, as you so often do.

“Okay,” you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder. You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings. “Will you wash my hair?” You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.” Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck. When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips. You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat. Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.” As if that’s meant to stop you. He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention. He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,” you mumble into the expanse of his chest. He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable. You think you could live in the feeling of his arms. (You’re lucky you get to.) You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most. “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation. You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless. It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.

He’d explained it to you once. Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first. Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t. JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm. Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that. You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.” You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon. You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure. “Gotta get undressed to shower,” he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises? It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care. Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow. You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep. He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle. His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck. You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight. You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits. There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.” The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“We are, angel,” Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back. It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame. “Just need to get you warmed up first.”

“The shower’ll be warm,” you say - or think you say, anyway. It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).

“Do you want me to stop?” It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off. Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat. “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.” Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern. You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise. “I never want you to stop.”

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair. He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted. “I love you,” he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment. He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off. You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders. You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.

“Start the shower.”

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that. You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away. The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,” he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream. He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip. You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does. You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside. It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you. You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.

“Hair?” You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder. It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.

“Patience, baby.” It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess. He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue. (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—” The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand. Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it. It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips. A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit. The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump. Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair. “Patience,” he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist. He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue.

“Kook,” you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess. There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest. A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.

“Relax for me.” You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more. You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish. (You wish you could see him.)

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him. (It was.) He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense. Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures. With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,” comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care. Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls. He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard. Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot; it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.

“K-Kook.” It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.

“I’ve got you.” And he does - hook, line, and sinker. He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave. It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go. He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn. See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service. Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him. You should recognise the look on his face. “Kook?”

“My turn.” It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward. There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you. It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in. “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely. (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed. In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine. It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat. His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear. It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure. “Oh fuck,” he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.

“Always so good for me.” Another thing he says, often and without prompting. It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet. “Always so perfect for me.”

“Because I love you,” you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.

“Love you too, angel.” He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway. He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted. He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart. Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust. An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision; it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard. He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high. You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings.

“Kook,” you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower. The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm. You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing. It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.

“P-please, Kook. Please.” You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his. He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation. “Come for me, Kook. Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars. Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you. It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs. You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.

“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.

“I love you,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours. “But I still need you to wash my hair.” It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days. “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.” Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements. He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery. Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.

“I thought I was an angel.” You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks. Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline. Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice. “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”

You can’t argue with that.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi

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oumaheroes · 3 years

Note

Heya! I’ve been reading thru your hcs and drabbles recently and I have to ask — what’s ur opinion on Mattie as a character and Canada as a country? What makes you like him? I’m assuming ur British and I’ve always been curious ab this, because I ain’t sure if most Brits are like States and just think of Canada as the US’s hat or not at all thanks! <3

The short answer is:

I love him

I love him so much that I have a longer answer bubbling away that I can’t help but spill at you.

What’s your opinion on Mattie as a character?

Jesus, where do I begin with this utter butter bean.

I suppose I fell deeply, deeply in love with him as this world-weary, steadfast and loyal guy, someone who is so very hardworking but not arrogant about it (and is generally unaware of it). He’ll do all that is asked of him and more, and work himself to the bone but not one word of complaint or boast will pass his lips. Matthew wants recognition from Arthur and his family, Matthew wants to be seen and understood as someone to depend on and trust, but Matthew doesn’t demand it. He doesn’t think of this in a selfish way, or in a ‘how can I advance in X’s esteem’ sort of way, Matthew does his best and goes above and beyond what is required because that’s just what he considers to be the necessary. What is obvious.

Arthur wants him to guard a fort? Of course, and he’s noticed that the battements are kinda shoddy so he’ll just set some people to work on that. He’ll pitch in too himself, of course, because the work will get done faster. He won’t tell Arthur what he’s done because he won’t expect praise for it- it just made sense. Why wouldn’t he do it? He can’t guard a fort if the fort has a weakness, after all.

I love Matthew because he’s a large presence who sees himself as small, someone who tries to fit an ideal of what people want from him without realising he already fit the ideal long long ago. For me, this does tend to be a toxic trait of his, he’s far too willing to give himself away, to neglect himself and his wants for people who probably don’t deserve it, and it’s all rooted down to a fear of abandonment that has slowly trickled and bled through to colour his personality.

As a character to write he’s a dream boat- he’s a wonderful counter to Alfred, something soothing and calm to contrast against the energetic storm. For a long time, Matthew was the model son Arthur wanted but Arthur was too busy mourning the loss of Alfred to notice and Matthew was too empathetic and selfless to demand that recognition or push for Arthur to acknowledge his shitty behaviour. Nowadays, Arthur understands what he took for granted- he’s calmed down over the years and has realised what an absolute diamond he’s had right next to him all this time but Matthew still doesn’t have the self-confidence to claim that view himself. Their relationship is something I love to read and write about and it’s a very complex web to dig into- something that just isn’t done enough!

I could go into far more detail but this is getting l o n g so I shall contain myself and answer your second question.

What do you think about Canada as a country?

So, this opinion is heavily biased. A few years ago I had the amazing opportunity to live in Canada for a year and ended up in a town in Quebec, close to Ottawa. I spent a whole year bouncing about the Eastern side of Canada and I can say, with a hand on my craggy old heart, that Canada is an utterly beautiful place. Quebeckers are an honest to God hoot (Quebec French for me is my utter favourite- sounds like a rough and tumble friend), and are so warm and welcoming once you get to know them. I met a few dry eggs, as you do in every country, but overall Canadian people (Quebeckers and Ontarians, at least) are utterly fantastic.

I will say that this fond regard was no doubt helped by the fact that I felt like a mini celebrity out there (I am British lol). British people are like rare mythical animals, especially in Quebec, and telling people I went there specifically to learn French instantly gave me bonus points. Outside of the capital, people stopped me in the middle of the street, in banks, and in Timmy’s to tell me that they loved how I sounded and a year of that will really go to your head and your heart, I cannot lie.

Country wise, British people are very fond of Canada, overall. We see Canadians as fellow followers of politeness and etiquette, and we very much appreciate your reliable and sturdy presence throughout history. Our media is blasted with a lot of American news, TV, history, slang, and culture, so Canada doesn’t have as much of an impact here as it should. But British people overall regard Canada fondly with quiet joy and I have never met a person who has a bad opinion of either the place or the people.

Again, I could go on about the country, the people, and the culture, but I shall refrain myself before things turn too soppy haha

You did remind me that I haven’t posted anything I’ve written about Canada yet on this Tumblr- this shall be fixed!

Thanks for the ask! <3

#heroes headcanons #rein-ette #aph canada #hws canada #aph #hws #hetalia #matthew Williams #hetalia headcanons #heroes answers

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balkanradfem · 4 years

Text

I was on the fence about weather to write about this or not, because it feels insensitive on one level, and because I know my perspective on this won't be shared by majority, but I am going to do it. I'm going to write a positivity post about weight gain. If this is something you don't want to read, you've been warned.

So if you've been following me for a while, you might remember last summer I was struggling with eating enough, because I didn't have a lot of money for food, and I was too chronically exhausted to make a meal from garden food every day; this actually got worse this year when due to covid I stopped going outside alltogether, I got very malnourished and weak. During this summer however, I grew three times more food than last year, and found a way to can about 60 jars of food despite still being exhausted; there was a food panic and doing this felt meaningful, important and life-sustaining. And finally, by this end of autumn, I got my lost weight back!

It's obvious my perspective on this isn't universal; by being a mentally ill woman without a job who got her hand on community garden slot as a way of getting food, I invoked back the rules of the old world: Looking well fed to me is once again, a sign of prosperity, skill and successful survival. That being said, I absolutely hated being malnourished and it made me feel scared to live in my own skin. I can understand the urge for it, because I've lived in this world enough to be brainwashed into wanting it, to even strive for it in the past. But living apart from m*n for a long enough period has woken me up to the sad reality of it: You become weak and breakable. It makes low energy levels worse. It makes you look like an easy target for violence – I got targeted way more after I lost weight, by predators in public no less, because I looked like someone easy to subjugate and overpower.

I felt breakable and endangered, possibly because I've been thru a lot of violence in my life and learned how important it is to be able to defend. I was too weak to successfully work out, and avoided looking at myself because it was scary seeing even a single bone; I think bones should not be poking out of bodies and skeletons should be safely concealed from human sight, I would be pleased if my collarbones disappeared altogether as I do not enjoy being reminded of my skeletal structure; it can stay a secret. I'm not naturally meant to be thin, I realized it can only happen if I'm starving and it's very off-putting. So these are all the benefits I noticed came with gaining weight back:

Feeling bigger and stronger. Looking less vulnerable and breakable. Feeling safer and more comfortable in my skin.

Being able to gain good muscles without losing weight or overstraining myself

Better energy levels, more enjoyment out of life

Looking healthy and having a nice round face!

Not getting upset about the skeletal secrets being revealed anymore

Being safe from starvation, knowledge that if a food panic arises I will stand more chance with more weight on, and ability to grow my own food.

Not being so damn cold in winter! Last winter I had to wear all the warm shirts I own and was still cold outside, it was pissing me off so much! Ability to keep your body warm in cold is a huge benefit of weight

Rise of confidence, since I get very weak for strong-looking, heavy women, getting closer to that gives me a great boost

No longer being looked at by shallow, vain-oriented humans. I like being able to pre-eliminate all appearance based bigots out of my way.

Clothes fitting better. I hated seeing clothes hanging from my body, felt like I was dying

And I guess, the last is good and bad, because, ugh, I was okay before, with my breasts kinda deflated so I could sleep on my stomach, which is a convenient way to sleep, and it's nice that they look plump and healthy again, but my stomach sleep? I can't do it now. Boo. Remains to be the biggest con of weight gain, but not bad enough not to do it, you know? At least I'm being super warm being curled up in fetal position which is my second favourite way to sleep.

So with all of this, I hope none of us gets cold this winter! And it's possible to be healthy weight even on plant based, mostly healthy diet (I did eat lots of tortilla pancakes and its good I did.)

#tw weight gain #weight positivity #radfem #radical feminism #feminism

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creepercraftguy · 3 years

Text

My thoughts and feelings on the Danganronpa S Swimsuit Designs.

Recently the designs for everyone’s swimsuit sprites in Danganronpa S were leaked on a preorder website here: https://ebten.jp/spchun/p/7015021110403

There’s a lot I have to say about each of these designs, so I figured I’d make a decently long post ranking each of them.

These are all my opinions and my thoughts and feelings may be a little biased, but please hear me out and respect my opinions. Also, sorry for low quality images, since that was the most clear cut I could make them by zooming in on the sheets.

7/10:

It’s a fairly plain design, but honestly, I think that’s quite befitting of the first games plucky protagonist. One of Makoto’s main traits is that he’s nothing remotely that special, so his swimsuit shouldn’t really be anything major. I do like however, that it’s colours replicate the brighter aspects of his original design.

6/10:

Of all the characters in the game who could have been stuck with the speedo look, I’m glad it was Taka. Unfortunately, this also means that his design, other than the very befitting whistle around his neck, isn’t anything major.

8/10:

This is a really good look for Byakuya. It’s really fitting with his personality and status and he wears it well.

5/10:

Unfortunately, Mondo’s outfit is exactly what I expected it to be. It’s unfortunate because I was hoping the game would do more, given how extra his 10th anniversary do was, but I was left a little disappointed with this one. It’s not bad though and it does work with him.

6/10:

It’s a pretty plain and simple design with no real outstanding aspects, but it really fits Leon’s character and he does well with it.

7/10:

This is honestly hilarious, because this wasn’t what I expected from Hifumi. I was expecting him to have a shirt or something, but I’m glad he doesn’t because that can be considered fat-shaming in my eyes. The Pretty Pudgy Princess image on his shorts was, for whatever reason, NOT what I was expecting though, and I think it looks great.

8/10:

I’ve had my differences with Hiro, but I have to admit that this design really does suit him and his character. I really love the little alien pattern on his shorts.

10/10:

This has got to be my favourite design in the entire selection of these characters! The main reason is because it really suits Chihiro’s character. He’s sporting both some very boy-like shorts but also a very girl-like crop top. The design doesn’t prioritize masculinity or femininity, but instead creates a well done balance of the two. This was probably the best that they could have done for Chihiro and I’m so glad he got his justice in this game.

10/10:

I feel like Sayaka is so underappreciated and so berated that we fail to recognize just how beautiful she is. I mean LOOK at this! She’s so fucking gorgeous!

10/10:

Kyoko is among, if not the top of, the characters in this that can sport a really plain and slightly bare bones design, but look absolutely beautiful while doing it. The dark swimsuit clashing with her bright hair, and also not sporting anything too outstanding, just like her original design, makes her look absolutely ravishing.

10/10:

I know it seems like I’m just dishing out 10’s at this point, but the DR1 girls are just THAT amazing looking with their designs, and Hina in particular is really good. One of the things that I love about some of these swimsuit designs is the subversion of the colors that I’m used to the characters sporting. Hina for instance is usually associated with red or blue, but here she is wearing a deep yellow bikini and my god does she look amazing in it. Also, it’s hard to see, but she does have some slight abs, which is something I wish to see on most of these girls.

9/10:

We have to talk about these two at once because they kind of have the same swimsuit with just one difference, in that Toko wears the skirt, while Genocide Jill does not. This makes sense and it’s pretty clever in design, since Toko has usually always worn long dresses/skirts in her previous designs, to cover up the tally marks Jill engraved in her legs from her kills. Jill obviously wouldn’t care about that, so she feels no need to wear the skirt, and given that Jill is slightly more outgoing and sociable than Toko, she wouldn’t have as much of a problem showing off more skin. It really does make a lot of sense and the design itself is overall very solid.

6/10:

I wouldn’t go so far as to say this is bad, but this style and colour is not what I expected or would have liked to see on Sakura. She’s still pretty, but I just think there’s more potential here.

8/10:

In a sense, this is a very clever design of swimsuit, since it’s almost as if Celeste’s original dress was turned into a bikini, and it’s incredibly fitting as a result. Still, it’s not out of any expectation.

10/10:

This is probably the most ingenious design out of every swimsuit in this game, so hear me out. One of the things Junko is the most well known for in Danganronpa’s world is she always defies expectations, most of the time in ways that leave people dissatisfied or unhappy. What could be more dissatisfying to a regular hormonal teenager (which most of the DR cast are) on a summer trip than a busty beauty arriving to the beach wearing a cheap, one-piece school swimsuit with nothing remarkable about it. It’s so clever and such a smart move on the designers part that perfectly encapsulates Junko’s character.

9/10:

I love this swimsuit design, and I think Mukuro looks wonderful in it, but I still stand by my complaint that she deserves to be her own person in this game and not disguised as Junko.

5/10:

Monokuma looks less like a lifeguard in this design and more like a McDonald’s drive thru employee. Still, I didn’t expect Monokuma to get a swimsuit at all, and this does fit his character, so whatever.

9/10:

Like Makoto, this outfit is fairly simple. Unlike Makoto however, it doesn’t really replicate the coloration of the original design and instead provides Hajime with something more vibrant and original, and I think it looks pretty good on him.

10/10:

I just in general think this is a really solid look for Nagito. It’s a nice diversion from his original style, while also keeping some of the things that made his original design unique, namely the pattern on his hoodie is transitioned over, but in a new, quite dashing colour. I also like how he and Hajime have a contrasting blue/red dynamic with their designs.

7/10:

I mean, it obviously has to be the same as Byakuya’s design, but the colours of the hoodie are inverted. It makes sense, but I do believe the original Togami does it better in this case.

4/10:

Is this REALLY the best you could give Gundham? This is such a simple design for someone with Gundham’s personality, he deserves something far more impressive. Yeah, I get that Makoto has the same thing, shorts of a single colour with his symbol on it, but that makes sense for Makoto given that he’s naturally quite bare bones, whereas Gundham is much the opposite. Honestly, this is kind of a letdown.

8/10:

Can Kazuichi just naturally pull off any vibrant colour? First, in DR2, his outfit was a vibrant yellow, and then in DR3, he had a deep blue outfit. Now he’s sporting this Neon Green and it looks so good on him. Please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks that this is a really good way of transitioning his original design while also adding some originality?

7/10:

I don’t think it’s anything great, but I like the rose patterns and the clash of the dark shirt with the bright shorts. Honestly, this is a pretty good outfit sporting Teruteru’s moniker.

6/10:

Again, I kind of expected Nekomaru to wear the speedo, and I like the fact that he kept the chain on, but overall, the outfit doesn’t have an awful lot of uniqueness.

8/10:

There’s really not an awful lot to this design, but I think white shorts and a gold chain are a real good look for Fuyuhiko. He doesn’t really need anything more than this to look super good on the beach.

7/10:

We did see this outfit in DR2, but it was a CG and not a sprite, and at least she’s not covered in blood this time. The colours and patterns are a little plain for Akane, but she still looks pretty good in this outfit.

10/10:

This swimsuit already has a CG and sprites in the original DR2, but now we get to see more of them. And just as well because this plain white swimming outfit looks wonderful on Chiaki. She’s just super adorable like this and I can’t ask for anything more.

10/10:

I have to give Sonia the score she deserves here. While I am surprised she isn’t showing off nearly as much leg skin as I thought she would, I have no complaints to this. The colour is a good colour alongside her hair and the swimsuit itself looks splendid on her.

9/10:

I never thought in a million years that Hiyoko would look good in green, but I’ve never been more happy to be wrong. I’m also glad, and I can’t speak for everyone here, that she’s wearing a two-piece and not a school swimsuit like Junko, because she deserves more than that.

10/10:

I’m so tempted to sing the Bryan Highland song but change the yellow in the lyrics to blue. Words cannot describe just how much I love this simple patterns design on my all time best girl. Mahiru looks absolutely angelic with this outfit, and I’ve basically fallen for her all over again.

8/10:

All things considered, I’m really satisfied with this outfit. We all know what Spike Chunsoft and DR’s writers like to do to Mikan, so I was very concerned that whatever swimsuit she got, it was going to turn out to be really skimpy and barely cover anything. I am glad that this is a lot more modest than I thought it would be, and I thank the creators for giving her something more normal. However, it is still a string piece that has a likely chance of coming undone, so I am expecting a few wardrobe malfunctions in the game. Other than that, my only other real complaint is that I kind of want more than just a plain white design. I think a deep purple or even a deep red would work very well on her as opposed to this.

10/10:

This is the design I expected for Ibuki, and it works really well for her, so while my expectations weren’t defied, this is still among the better designs out of the selection we have.

10/10:

We all need to take a minute to appreciate just how gorgeous Peko looks in a plain black two-piece, because this lady looks absolutely exquisite. Even the most simple designs can bring out the best in characters, and while we did see this in DR2, we never got the sprite we needed. She just looks great like this, that’s all I can say.

5/10:

Izuru has a different swimsuit to Hajime for some reason, but I guess it does make sense since a bright, vibrant swimsuit like the one Hajime has wouldn’t work with him. Hajime’s is still better in my book though.

5/10:

Usami and Monomi have always had the adult/child dynamic in their designs. For example, in the regular designs, Usami has a skirt while Monomi wears a diaper, and that dynamic carries over in these designs too, which I really appreciate. Still, the outfits themselves aren’t anything outstanding.

10/10:

Is it just me, or is Komaru ever so slightly chubby in this? It’s the first time Komaru’s midriff has ever been shown in a sprite, so it’s the first time we’ve ever seen her bare belly like this. It’s not a complaint, if anything, I’ve been wanting to see some chub on the girls. Regardless, this is another example of a plain design pulled off extraordinarily well, since the plain yellow outfit makes Komaru look delightful.

6/10:

About what I expected from Masaru. Like Nagito, I like how he carries patterns from his og design into this one, but he doesn’t really do it as well. His design is kind of basic.

8/10:

I like this transition. The outfit and hoodie has originality, but it still bases itself off Jataro’s original design and I like how they do it.

10/10:

She’s just way too cute! This design is just super adorable and Kotoko pulls it off wonderfully. She was honestly one who I expected to wear a one-piece, so showing off this much skin is surprising given her backstory. It really does fit her though, and I wouldn’t think of changing it.

5/10:

Honestly, there’s not much to this. The colour and pattern fits Nagisa, totally, but I do wish there was a little bit more than just whatever this is. Nagisa’s a much deeper character than this outfit gives him credit for.

8/10:

It’s a really simple design with nothing outstanding besides the skirt, but Monaca looks really cute wearing this, and I think that that alone is enough. Besides, Junko had a fairly basic design too, so Monaca having one isn’t out of the question.

3/10:

I’ve always believed, as much as I really don’t like him and wish he wasn’t in this game, that Kurokuma has always had one of the best designs out of all the Monokuma’s. But as much as I believe that, and as much as I love the addition of the water gun in this design, this is honestly kind of lazy. The gun and the glasses don’t count as part of the swimsuit, they’re just accessories. In summary, literally all they did was give him orange trunks.

1/10:

THIS however is somehow even worse, because this straight up is NOT a swimsuit! Shirokuma is literally just wearing a hat and a floatie. This is probably my least favourite of all the designs in this.

9/10:

I have to add here that I’m rather disappointed that based on the scans, it seems unlikely that Yuta and Taichi from UDG are getting in the game, since I believe they both deserve some spotlight that they’re now giving Hiroko. I also don’t consider myself to be attracting to older women, but I am forced to admit that like with Mikan, I did expect something worse with Hiroko’s swimsuit, and this was a pleasant subversion of my expectations because I think she looks great.

10/10:

Maybe I’m being a but biased with my scoring here, but had Shuichi not been wearing the hoodie, I would have been a bit disappointed. Also, am I the only one who thinks that this is a surprisingly good look for Shuichi given that the colours aren’t his typical dark, emo style? I never thought Shuichi could rock a white hoodie and dark blue shorts, but here I am being proved wrong.

6/10:

Honestly, I did expect this of Kaito’s outfit, and I am a little let down that this is it really. Sure, it does look good, as he has the space pattern that he usually has on the inside of his coat, but speaking of his coat, one thing that I was expecting was that he, like Shuichi or Nagito, would have a hoodie in his design that he hung loosely around his shoulders like he does in his original design. C’est la vie…

7/10:

He literally looks like a tiny sailor! Like they straight up ripped him out of a Popeye cartoon or something! It looks really funny for some reason.

9/10:

Call me crazy, but I actually seriously love the colour of Rantaro’s shorts. The pink/red rose colour is a wonderful clash with his avocado green hair, and while the design is kind of simple, Rantaro has never been known to have the most over the top appearance. He’s kind of just a casual guy, so he deserves a casual attire.

4/10:

Oh Gonta, there’s nothing wrong with your swimsuit, but is this really the most justice they could do you? It looks so…I dunno…plain?

5/10:

Where’s his white coat go? Like, I love the shorts pattern, but is this really it? This is all we get out our clown prince of lies? It’s not totally disappointing like Gundham’s was, and thank god he doesn’t have abs anymore, but even still, is this the best they could do for Kokichi?

10/10:

Fuck yes! Why put Kiyo in shorts like the rest of them when we could give him this extremely fitting wetsuit! Like, seriously, how come I didn’t think this was a good idea? This is quite literally the perfect direction you could have gone in for Kiyo especially.

9/10:

Fucking…Keebo oh my god…Why did I expect any differently?

9/10:

Kirumi, Kyoko and Peko have exactly the same reason for getting their scores, and Peko and Kyoko only slightly pull it off better. My only complaint I have with Kirumi sporting this is that she doesn’t appear to have the spider pattern that she had on her dress before, which was one of her most notable features in her original design. Maybe it is there and I just can’t see it due to low res, but I’m fairly sure that this is all you need to make Kirumi look damn sexy during summertime.

6/10:

I know for a fact that Himiko doesn’t like the ocean, so maybe there’s a reason her swimwear looks like this. I don’t hate it, but I think Himiko might look better in a one piece, and maybe I’d like a bit more context as to why it looks like this of all things.

10/10:

Maki is so attractive in this outfit. It’s the perfect shade of red, and it’s everything she deserves. Honestly, while a lot of these girls look stunning in colours that I’m not used to seeing them in, had Maki had anything else than this red, I think I would have been a little disappointed.

7/10:

Pink was not what I expected on Tenko. I was honestly expecting something similar to Ibuki, but with light blue and green instea of blue and pink, and I’m honestly a little upset we didn’t get that. On top of that, she’s showing an awful lot of skin, maybe even more than Mikan, since that swimsuit looks like it doesn’t fit her, which I didn’t expect from her. Still, you won’t be hearing any major issues on my behalf, since I still like this design somewhat.

10/10:

Yes, yes, and more YES! I ADORE the yellow swimsuit with Tsumugi’s dark blue hair. I was expecting something plain and white like what Mikan got with Tsumugi, and I’m so glad we didn’t. Not even Team DR are willing to take their jokes that far. She looks so god damn sublime.

6/10:

I’m fairly sure that all they did for Angie’s appearance was take off her coat. I mean, she does kind of wear swimwear all the time, so I think that even though there’s no real uniqueness or originality to this one, it was the obvious direction to go in, so I have no real comment on it.

9/10:

Ok, this was a good one. I was really hoping that Miu in particular would fit her character to a tee, and if it didn’t I think I would have been rather let down. This is definitely satisfactory though, since leopard print absolutely works for her. Overall I think she looks superb.

10/10:

KAEDE PLEASE MARRY ME! She looks so fucking pulchritudinous! That’s not a word anyone knows, but that’s the extent of how enticing, foxy and sublime she looks! The sky blue is SO good on her, words can barely describe it! Kaede was one in particular who I set high expectations for, and I can gladly say that they were exceeded above and beyond!

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa 1 #dr1 #danganronpa 2 #dr2 #danganronpa another episode #danganronpa ultra despair girls #drudg #drae #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa s: ultimate summer camp #danganronpa s #drs

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years

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hey! i hope you’re having an amazing day. this is just me popping in your inbox to say that’s youre one of my favourite writers and you got me really interested in winteriron (honestly one of the cutest ships) are there any fics/authors ii could reccomend?

Hi there! Thank you so much! I love this ship so much, they’ve got such potential for both fluff and angst. They really are one of my favorite ships to write and I’m glad I was able to write so much for them this year. I certainly do have plenty of recs for you, starting with my favorite authors:

@riotwritesthings: started writing last year, I highly recommend just about everything Riot writes but especially Road Hazards, Melt into Me (Your Words are My Own), and When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)

@hddnone: so many stories and all so good! Has nearly 100 Winteriron works on ao3 and you will not regret reading any of them, though fair warning that some of them are Team Cap Critical. Especially recommend Honey Pot, You’ve Got Mail, and A Bit(e) of Danger

@monobuu: mostly an artist but sometimes writes stories as well. i recommend Ravioli, Invincible Summer, and Meet the Fam

@tisfan and @27dragons: can’t make a Winteriron rec list without including the both of them. They work together a lot but you should definitely take a look at their own stuff as well. I recommend Safe and (the) Sound, Kiss Me Thru the Phone, and Stark, Naked

@ad1thi: currently taking a bit of a hiatus and working on non-Marvel works but I love everything Adi writes, particularly her entire Bollywood but Make it Gay series, which isn’t always Winteriron but wonderful nonetheless. I recommend the Greek Gods AU, 1000 Lives (For You), and we’re connected

@the-winter-writer: lots of smut and all absolutely fantastic! I like Precious Treasure, Winter Wings, and Instinct

@rayshippouuchiha: definitely an iconic writer for this fandom. Really great if you’re looking for genderbends. Writes a lot of absolutely incredible fics and not just for Winteriron but my personal favorites are The (Not So) Great Pretender, Fearful Symmetry, and The Mistletoe Kiss Polka

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): once again very iconic. you’ve probably read at least one of their works even if didn’t know. I recommend Shameless, Today’s Forecast, and Practice Makes Perfect

@lovelyirony: mostly writes ficlets here on tumblr and a multishipper (I don’t know why I’m saying that like it’s a bad thing, I’m a multishipper), also a fan of Sharon Carter and that’s the thing that made me follow her so you know

@amethystinawrites: I only recently started working their works but I’m loving everything I’ve come across so far. I recommend Tech Support and I Won’t Hold My Breath

AvocadoLove: also writes a lot of Stony and Stuckony, which I love a lot, but for their Winteriron works, I recommend Amalgam and Dead Man’s Switch

Dracusfyre: another one I’m new to. I literally just started reading their works today so I don’t have any recs for them yet but one of my friends loves them so I’m going to go with you should definitely take a look at their works

Eirlyssa: has some anti-Team Cap works so keep an eye out for that if that’s not your thing but writes very good Winteriron. I recommend Guide Me Home (Guide My Heart) and Always (I’ll Be There)

@imposter-human: one of the first MCU blogs I ever followed! I recommend childhood memories, speak my language, and lost in translation

As for specific works I like:

Four Strings and Second Chances by Vashoth

It was reluctance to let one of his finest inventions ever out of his grasp that made him take a couple days over a week to send the arm to Pepper’s office. But all things considered, Tony figured that sending finest prosthetic that had ever come into existence--literally grasping an olive branch--was one of the classiest gifts he’d ever given. He’d included a note and everything. ‘Barnes,

Can help with installation. Or not. Up to you. --Stark'

Who is the Mechanic? by @akira-of-the-twilight

The Asset watched as his handlers brought in a stranger—a man with a metal object stuck to his chest that was hooked to a car battery.

The handlers shoved the man onto the stool where many who had operated on the Asset’s arm in the past had sat before.

“Asset,” one handler said, “meet the Mechanic. He will be responsible for the upkeep of your arm. Should anything malfunction, kill him.”

The Asset eyed the Mechanic. The Mechanic was glassy-eyed and unresponsive.

He’d probably be dead in a week.

The Fix by SleepsWithCoyotes

Right, because Tony...Tony fixes things. He remembers thinking that, not for the first time.

Paths are Made by Walking by @potrix-the-queerschlaeger

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

The Evidence by StrivingArtist

Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.

Fuck it.

He knew they noticed.

And he knew they liked him better this way.

Shadowed Hearts and Winter Souls by NotEvenCloseToStraight

The mid-1800s and Antonio Carbonell Stark is caught in a scandal with his lover. Desperate for a chance to escape the trouble and his own broken heart, Tony accepts a proposal from a mysterious Russian heiress and flees the country.

Natalia Romanova is in trouble of her own and has enough secrets to make Tony's head spin but somehow they settle into a fake marriage and calm day-to-day together, and everything works... until her half brother comes home and their life is disrupted again.

James is somber and silent, brutal and nearly broken and scarred, a soldier of the resistance. His heart is cold and gaze like ice, but his hands are hot and lips are warm and Tony finds himself ignoring the blood on James's palms and the shadows in his soldier’s eyes, and falling in love.

When danger lands at their doorstep, Natalia and Tony have to pack up and leave, running away in the middle of the night and leaving their men behind.

The distance between Tony and James gets longer every day, and Natalia has been keeping a secret for that can’t be hidden much longer. With no place to call home and a thousand miles between them and the men they love, what are Tony and Natalia supposed to do?

Puppy Love by Reioka

Bucky is learning to become a person again. When some guy starts crying all over Natasha's dog, he decides he's doing better than he originally thought.

Describe Your Perfect Date by ali_aliska

After getting turned down by Bucky, Tony decides it’s time to move on from his massive crush. He tries online dating—Pepper’s idea, not his—but the only thing worse than getting rejected is getting rejected and finding out your soulmate-level match is Clint Barton, all in the same day.

Clint, of course, does not let opportunities like this go to waste, but he’s driving Tony nuts for a good cause, he swears.

Bucky’s just trying to do the right thing and fails spectacularly, but it all works out in the end.

Rocket Science by marsmaywonder and orbingarrow

Sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated, grad student Tony falls asleep in a conveniently empty classroom and wakes up in the middle of Bruce’s Physics 101 course. After seeing a groggy Tony fumble a simple question, actual-student Bucky offers to tutor him. In a moment of “oh no; he’s cute” panic, Tony takes him up on it. Now, in addition to his already complicated life, Tony has to figure out the answer to the incredibly messy question: “How do you look like you’re failing the class, when you literally wrote the book?”

What’s Good for the Goose by Taste_is_Sweet

For this nonny prompt at the Imagine Tony and Bucky comm on Tumblr:

"A soulmate AU where an immortal goose shows up one day to lead you to your soulmate, the challenge is surviving the goose." (Full prompt in notes.)

We all have soulmates, and every soulmate pair shares an animal guide. The Guide is there to lead you to your One True Love, and they represent the aspects of the psyche that you both share. They appear when you're about to meet your soulmate, and often materialize in moments of great personal crisis, offering hope and support. There are stories upon stories about how someone's Guide appeared to lead them to their One True, or how the barest glimpse of their Guide eased their hearts and gave them hope in the midst of despair. The newly-rescued almost always attribute their Guide with giving them the strength and courage to hang on.

Animal Guides are ephemeral, ethereal, and elusive. They are, most often, no more than a warm presence or flicker out of the corner of one's eye. They are incarnate symbols of perseverance, optimism and hope. Foretellers of happiness, and the grand destiny of love.

Except for geese. Geese are assholes.

and so, we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself. --- Tony simply goes through days and motions. He deals with the Avengers, with R&;D, with the rewritten Accords. All of it, it’s nothing new really. He just wants to get things done.

What’s new is seeing Barnes hunched over the coffee table, one step away from ripping a glossy magazine apart in the middle of the night.

And why the hell Barnes keeps looking at him during the days after like he’s a puzzle to be solved?

Welcome to the Winteriron fandom! We’ve got a lot of incredible authors and artists both and this is just the tip of the iceberg!

#alle answers #winteriron #fic recs #have a great day as well!#hold-our-destiny

132 notes · View notes

checkurwindow · 4 years

Text

ten ways

Book: Open Heart

Warning: So sweet your dentist would be concerned Rating: General Pairing: Bryce x F!MC Word count: 6500+ Author’s note: I finally wrote something that isn’t angst and oh god is it long. I spent so much time on this so please please consider reblogging and let me know what you thought of it, and maybe check out my masterlist while you’re at it.

There was truly no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to her first class.

In her defense, she had left the house early. For once in her life, she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time that she allowed herself to stop at a drive-thru and get a drink as a reward to herself. Everything was going according to plan.

That is, until the lady in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it; and to make sure he didn’t mess up her order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow.

She groaned as she watched the time tick pass minute by minute. Just her luck.

She watched the barista hand the drink to the lady in front and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, the car didn’t move, not a single inch. The drink was already in her hand, but the lady just had to continue to talk with the barista.

She cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel in frustration. She must’ve been more aggressive than she was expecting, because her horn went off, and loudly at that.

She jumped back in shock at the noise. The lady poked her head out of her car window and immediately began lecturing her on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what she assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear her with her windows rolled up. She bit her lip, gave a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually, the lady finished her rant and left the drive-thru. She got her drink, no longer a reward and more of a consolation, and sped to school.

There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time she got there, only a reminder of just how late she was. Shoving all her things back inside her backpack, she locked the door and hurried into the building.

Of course, her first class just had to be with Mr. Anderson. Any other teacher would have just let her tardiness slide, but not him, never him. She opened the door to his classroom, and any conversation that had been going on stopped.

More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and she wanted to melt into the floor right then and there.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Mr. Anderson addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at the nervous student, leaning against his desk as he sized her up, “if you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.

She swallowed roughly and nodded. He went back to lecturing the class on how his classes would be conducted, and she did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. Instinctively, she made her way over to where her friends were sitting.

Bryce moved his backpack off the desk next to him and quietly whispered, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks’.

Sienna leaned forward, “Anderson really wasn’t amused with you, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” she insisted.

Bryce rolled his eyes, “he doesn’t hate you, Boo.”

“Bryce is right,” she said, “everyone knows he just hates women,” she stressed the last part with exaggerated disgust.

Late-night study sessions had evolved to become code for hanging out at Danny’s house and messing around.

Sienna was dating Danny, so naturally, she had become friends with him and his friends by association. Sienna, Aurora, and her were actually trying to study. Danny and Elijah were discussing the school football team’s chances of winning their next game, and Jackie and Bryce were in the kitchen getting snacks and undoubtedly bickering about something completely irrelevant.

“Okay, Sienna,” Aurora held up a flashcard, “what can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Uh, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” She replied, barely having read that chapter of the textbook.

“No- well, actually, I suppose you’re technically not completely wrong.”

She let her body fall back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay there any longer, she would’ve thrown herself out the window.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hang out with her friends, it was just that after a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she had already spent most of the day with.

“Sorry I’m late, I just spent the better part of the last hour trying to explain to a group of freshmen that I won’t be dating or teaching “my ways” to any one of them,” he shuddered dramatically as he walked into the living room where everyone was.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot I was friends with the Bryce Lahela,” she said overdramatically.

He rolled his eyes but decided to amuse her nonetheless, “what can I say, I’m just clearly superior.”

She scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes and pretended she was back at home under her warm, soft covers.

“I brought you food.”

That caught her attention. Cautiously opening an eye to see if he was telling the truth, she was met with the sight of him holding up a bag of fast food that he must have picked up on his way over. She couldn’t help the growing smile on her face as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, Munchkin” he handed the bag over to her, “you skipped lunch to finish up the science project you were behind on and I’m certain you haven’t gotten around to eating anything yet,” he said confidently.

She happily pulled an order of large fries out of the bag, “have I ever told you how amazing you are, Bryce?”

He smiled, “not often enough.”

“Well, you are. So amazing.”

She had just finished the fries and was looking through the back to see what else he had gotten her when Danny called out to her.

“What are your thoughts on Rafael?” He asked.

“Aveiro?”

“Yep.”

She tilted her head, “he’s okay, pretty cute. Why?”

“He told me he likes you, even wanted me to ask if you were single?” Danny said nonchalantly.

Sienna immediately got invested and joined in on the conversation, “she is very single, and I for one think they would be a great couple!”

She could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and suddenly she found the hardwood floors very interesting, “I don’t know…he actually likes me?”

“That’s what he told me,” Danny replied, “can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a careless shrug, “Yeah, why not?”

“You and Rafael? I knew this day would come,” Aurora commented.

“Okay, we’ve talked about this long enough. We need to study,” she insisted, pulling out her textbook.

“I’d rather not fail this test,” Bryce agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Bryce took that opportunity to fill up the space next to her on the couch. She flipped through pages of her textbook before coming to a stop. She passed the textbook to Bryce and pointed to a large picture on the page.

“This one’s my favourite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” he read, “you’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich?”

She shrugged, “I guess I’m just a fan of the Romantic moment in general. Everything was so creative and beautiful. I just think it’s crazy how this painting holds so much emotion.”

Bryce frowned, looked at the painting, then back at her, “it certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Bryce watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. After a while, he decided to say what was on his mind.

“So,” he broke the silence, “you and Rafael, huh?”

“Yeah,” suddenly, the furry carpet on the floor looked beyond interesting, “I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

His mouth broke out into a smile, “Sienna and I used to tease you about it all the time! No wonder you’re so bad at chemistry,” he joked.

“I happen to be pretty extraordinary at chemistry, thank you very much.”

“Hm, I think that botched experiment that nearly killed Mrs. Durnam tells a very different story,” he said, and she playfully punched his arm.

“She’s still alive, isn’t he? Plus, you were the one who didn’t make me double-check!”

He had an amused look on his face, “keep telling that to yourself, babe.”

He was tired, the sheets were too hot. It had been a long day, his body was exhausted. The air in his bedroom was too cold, his mind was tired, too. If he would just close his eyes and stop thinking, he’d be asleep in mere minutes. Now the sheets were hot again, so he kicked them off. Then the air was too cold, so he pulled the sheets over him again. Not thinking ironically proved to be harder than perceived. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how fooli- damn it, Sophocles, damn your terribly beautiful words.

Bryce threw the covers onto the other side of the bed and sat up. He wasn’t going to get much sleep that night no matter how hard he tried, anyway, no need to lie to himself. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there even had been any sleep in the first place.

There was no doubt that he was tired both mentally and physically. But emotionally? His heart was eternally restless when it came that. He crossed his room and sat down at the expensive wooden desk, fully accepting that getting any rest that night was no longer a viable option.

The bright light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of the room, but his eyes adjusted soon enough. Bryce didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

But his subconscious knew. His fingers opened up the application and started scrolling. No, no, yes. God, no. yes, definitely, perfect. And that went on for an hour or so, though Bryce wasn’t exactly keeping track of time. He’d be near-dead at sunrise, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he finished.

When he actually did finish, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calmness washed over him, and before he knew it, he was face down and lost in his dreams asleep.

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as Bryce Lahela could look. He still dressed as great as always, even styling his hair with a little more volume than usual. He was still sharp as ever in class, but anyone who really knew him could tell that he was a total mess.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked during lunch in Mr. Jericho’s classroom (He had been kind enough to let a bunch of teenagers spend lunch in his class; the cafeteria just wasn't cool enough for them).

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

She cocked her head to one side, “no you aren’t, spill.”

“Don’t worry about me. I actually have a little something for you,” Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Sending it now. Aaaand…...check your phone!”

She raised an eyebrow and cautiously unlocked her phone to look at the text he had sent to her.

“Sophocles and Serotonin,” she read off her phone, “ what is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs that I thought you’d like.”

“Seriously?” A smile emerged on her lips, and Bryce couldn’t help himself but to reflect it, “When did you even have the time for this?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I happened to have free time last night.”

“With Mr. Anderson's early deadlines? I smell a steaming hot pile of bullshit, Lahela,” She looked up at him, a teasing lilt prominent in her tone, “I appreciate the playlist even more now that I know you took the time out of your night to make it. Thank you, Bryce.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He froze like a deer in headlights, and if she noticed, she definitely didn’t say anything. He compiled himself back together before she could notice that his usual smirk wasn’t as smug as it usually was, and leaned back against the desk behind him in an attempt to look cool.

“So, what’re you doing after school?” He asked in his best casual voice.

“Rafael and I are going to see a movie.”

“That’s actually still a thing?”

She shot him a look that made him raise his hands up in surrender, “Yes, it’s still a thing. He’s a good guy, I really like him.”

“But is he good enough for you?” He crossed his arms, eyes not leaving hers. It wasn’t that Bryce didn’t like Rafael. Rafael was great, but no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend.

“He is,” She said with an eye roll, “why do you care anyway?”

“Just looking out for you, Sweetheart.”

“I can take care of myself perfectly fine, Scout.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, an impressed look across his face, “trust me, I know.”

Summer felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago The yellow-orange leaves and updated Starbucks menu was enough to convince anyone that it was already October.

It took a lot of sweet-talking and a tiny bit of bribery to convince Bryce to attend the Homecoming football game, but with Sienna’s assistance, she eventually got him to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there.

Of course, she could have taken her own car, but she would much rather not waste her own gas when she could take advantage of his instead. It wasn’t like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, the seat warming function in his cushy Mercedes Benz was a huge incentive.

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over the seat warmers, and he spent most of the ride making fun of how obsessed she was with said seat warmer. Eventually, they parked outside and paid for the entrance fees.

“It’s kinda co-” before she could even finish her sentence remarking the cold weather, Bryce handed her a comfy looking (and feeling) sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at him, her mouth slightly ajar, “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t need to,” he shrugged.

She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Bryce glanced at her, bit the inside of his lip, then shook his head, “Don’t go thinking I care about you or anything now, Lovey. I couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d freeze up.

She looked up at him with a smug grin on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place, “Yeah? Is that really all it was?”

“Yes, that’s all, Sunshine,” he did his best to act all annoyed by her questioning, but instead found it endearing in the end.

It took him a moment, but eventually, he came up with a half-decent excuse, “besides, you know my grandma would kill me if she knew I let you freeze. I swear, sometimes it seems like she loves you more than she loves me.”

“That’s because she does,” she pointed it out like it was the only possibility, “can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man that I had to drag to this game.”

“That’s it. Take the sweatshirt off, I hope you freeze,” he said with the dirtiest look he could muster and she had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her bag, and after digging around, she pulled a five-dollar bill out of her wallet. Thrusting the money into Bryce’s hand and pushing him in the direction of the concession stand, “here, go get some popcorn for us. Maybe then you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you, I’ll find us some good seats.’

Bryce grumbled something about “you’re irritable” but nonetheless ventured off towards the concession stand.

She climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Sienna and Danny sitting in the student section, all decked out in their school colours and face paint. Sienna greeted her with a warm hug.

Pulling back, Sienna took note of what she was wearing, “is that Bryce’s?”

She looked down at the Stanford sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself, “Oh yes, it’s pretty comfortable, actually.”

Sienna pursed her lips and mulled over the new information, “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” she shrugged.

“And Bryce knows that?” She paused, “Do you know that?”

She narrowed her eyes at Sienna, “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Rafael now, okay? Bryce and I have always just been friends, and that's all we’ll ever be.” Sienna nodded her head, “Okay, okay. If you say so, I believe you. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, I care about both of you.”

“There aren’t any feelings between Bryce and I, don’t worry,” she said, but those words didn’t leave her mind for the rest of the night.

Bryce had spent a significant amount of the week dreaming about the coffee and cookie dough ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer.

It was his favourite flavour, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl of that sweet sweet goodness of a food. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he really deserved to. After spending his afternoon being productive and studying for the test he had tomorrow, he decided that he finally earned that delectable bowl of unhealthy but utterly delicious caramel-colored ice cream.

He made his way down to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the smooth marble floor in his most comfortable pair of socks. Bryce had made it all the way to the freezer, barely moments away from the compartment holding his currently most prized possession when a hasty knock at the front door stopped him in his tracks.

He paused. He was oh so close to getting to his ice cream; maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the door or ignoring it and getting the ice cream first. He was starting to lean towards just going for his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the freezer and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He said in surprise when he saw who was standing at her doorstep.

“I didn’t know who else to go to. Sienna’s out with Danny, and Aurora and Jackie aren’t good in situations like this,” she spoke quietly and sniffled in between sentences, trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheek, “sorry, I just-”

He interrupted her by pulling her into the darkening sky and into his house and arms. She melted into his touch and gripped his shirt tightly as she hugged him back.

“What happened?” he asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Rafael and I broke up.”

Bryce sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip and weighed the options in front of him, before he came to a reluctant conclusion. He pulled away just enough so that he could look her in her teary bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream.”

She offered him a slightly trembling smile, “ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to the kitchen and began digging through the freezer while she hopped onto the counter beside him. He hid a frown from her while in the process of pulling the nearly empty carton of coffee and cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Bryce asked, retrieving a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t even a bad break up,” Despite her words, she still wiped at her tears using the sleeves of her shirt, “we mutually agreed that it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, “he’s just...not the one, I guess.”

Bryce felt something twist and turn in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t right to be happy when his friend was so miserable, but he was anyway. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form at the corners of his mouth, “I’m sorry, Cupcake.”

She laughed, “Cupcake?”

He rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face remained, “I’m trying something new, okay? Running out of nicknames.”

She couldn’t help but match his infectious smile, “you’re not gonna have any ice cream?” she asked as he passed her the bowl.

“Nah, not in the mood for it,” he lied.

“Did you get enough sleep last night, Hon?” She was already in mid-yawn when he had asked the question.

She held a hand over her mouth and nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him, “wow, just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re one hell of a charmer, Lahela?”

“You’d be surprised, actually,” he gave her a teasing smile, “so who’s the cause for your sleepless night?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She made an emphasis on the textbook in her hands, “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you so desperately enjoy spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch,” Bryce held a hand over his heart, “you really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone is as gifted as Bryce flippin’ Lahela.”

“Flippin’? Really?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school, gotta keep it PG,” she shrugged, “so yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a normal amount of sleep, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile, “you don’t need to worry about me, Bry.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. Look, I’ll make you a stack of flashcards next time so you can get more sleep.”

She was about to say something in response when her phone rang in her pocket, “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Bryce turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his growing smile.

“Bryce.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Sienna sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? He had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he certainly wasn’t about to share with her.

“Yes, Sienna?”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Bryce blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Sienna right, “Excuse me?

Sienna rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “You heard me right. I’m not blind, Bryce. I see the way you look at her when you think no one is focusing. Do you have a crush on her?”

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you even get the idea from?”” He made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I dunno, you just do whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention that you have a different pet name for her every time I see you two, seems pretty affectionate to me, Bryce.” She did always have a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since before I could remember, of course I care about her. And so what if I have a nickname for her? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you...Si...all the time,” he paused to rethink what he just said, “I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S, are you really telling me that you don’t like her?”

“I don’t like her,” and it wasn’t an exact lie, because the feelings he had for her had progressed far beyond liking.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” She said and pulled out a ball of azure coloured yarn.

Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall, “Sure, except maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She gave him a look, “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student, my only income comes in the form of birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Well, I’m sure Sienna will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” She muttered and stared blankly at the mess of strings in her lap.

His eyes widened a little, “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“I'll get the hang of it soon enough,” she pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, she had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help you.”

“You? Know how to knit?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Bryce rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands, “This is crocheting. You don’t even use knitting needles”

“Apologies. And how do you even know how to crochet?”

“I may or may not have taken lessons a couple summers back to impress Alisson Rivers?” He admitted, quickly untangling her “progress” and began to expertly thread the loops of yarn together. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form, “being incredibly sexy has its perks,” he jokingly winked at her.

“I hate that you’re good at everything.”

He snorted and gently began to move the work into her hands for her to finish the rest, “Not everything, maybe just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” She waved him off, now laser-focused on the project in front of her and determined to get it right that time. Bryce gave her tips and advice every once in a while, but for the most part, he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“Sweethea-” Bryce cut himself off, remembering the conversation he had with Sienna earlier. He cleared his throat, “you’re never gonna get it like that.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows, “What?” He swallowed roughly and shook his head, “It’s nothing. Just...you’re going to wanna pull the yarn a little tighter or it’s all going to unravel before you’re even finished.”

“Oh,” She gave him a thankful smile, “thanks, Bryce.”

It was almost 2 in the morning, and she knew that getting any more than four of sleep was out of the equation at that point. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe two dozen times now, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to post in the middle of the night. And even so, Instagram was doing a fairly poor job at keeping her mind distracted.

Sighing out in frustration, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and finally caved in to her temptations, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, she tapped his contact with her thumb. The phone began to hum as she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Bry. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. She frowned when he realised he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy and raspy voice.

“I know you’re lying, Bryce. Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. It’s really fine, don’t let me bother you.

He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at her firmly through the camera, “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, aren’t I? Don’t worry about waking me up. Besides, I’d much rather be talking to you.’

She pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. He was too polite to ever tell her if she was bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted to talk to her, or if he was too courteous to tell her otherwise.

He noticed the look she gave him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me. I would’ve stopped being friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing as hell. I promise,” he shot her a smug smile that almost made her wish she hadn’t called him up.

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically.

“I try,” his grin widened, if that were even possible, “so what did you want to talk to me about?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You don’t?” Bryce narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms, “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted uncomfortably by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved, “Earlier, when you told me to tighten the yarn. You stopped yourself from calling me ‘sweetheart’.”

He tensed, but she didn’t notice, “I mean, what’s so unusual about that? That's a perfectly normal thing for someone to do.”

“I know,” she nodded, “but you always call me some cheesy pet name. Always. So, did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “No, of course not. Everything’s fine,” he paused, “that really upset you?”

“It’s just that you’ve always had a nickname for me, I guess I got used to it.”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop the amused smile from spreading across his lips, “Okay, Boo.”

“Am I finally going to get to see your mural?”

Bryce rolled his eyes, “It isn’t my mural, Love. It’s the senior mural, it’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea,” she gave him a playful nudge, “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the amazing Bryce Lahela designed it, it’ll be the best senior mural this school has ever seen.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Babe. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly, “you’re Bryce Lahela.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Kyra Santana, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colourful handprints standing above the blue-gray ocean in front of them.

She stared at the mural with an open mouth. She glanced from Kyra, to Bryce, then back to the artwork in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colourful with the handprints,” Bryce said, “I thought it would be nice to let our class literally leave a mark on this school.”

Kyra smiled at the mural and set her paintbrush down, “I was a great idea, the splash of colour is just what it needed,” she turned to her, “what do you think?”

“Like it? No, I...I love it, it’s perfect,” she turned to Bryce with wide eyes, “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, this is my favourite painting.”

“I noticed--don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much, you just never shut up about this painting. It’s annoying, really,” he muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his shoes.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the wall that the mural proudly sat on, and Bryce was glad.

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Bryce was flustered, and if she had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t mention it.

10.

Their high school was filled with rich kids. Their high school also had a debate team with a minimal number of members. These factors resulted in Bryce and her having their own separate hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating and watching other teams debate, she and Bryce walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they sneaked looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Bryce cleared his throat, “So that guy in the blue shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him, “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. I told him you snored like an ogre and gave him Jackie’s number instead,” he said with a careless shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder, “Are you kidding me? You know I don’t snore, he was cute and interested in me!”

“Can’t imagine why.”

She scowled, “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny, enjoyable to be around, and have a high tolerance for assholes who shut down opportunities for their friends. And I’m extremely attractive, which is an added plus.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At that very moment, they turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realised that they were only inches apart, able to hear every inhale and exhale of the other. His gaze flickered down to her lips, and it was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed a single bit of it.

Bryce took a step back and cleared his throat, standing rather uncomfortably, “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed before they both hurriedly turned around and stepped into their own rooms.

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Her mind wandered as she leaned against her hotel room door.

Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook the thought out of her head and grabbed a sweatshirt along with a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe she would stop thinking about it after a good night's rest. She changed, brushed her teeth, and was about to turn the lights off when she felt that nagging feeling bubble up in the pits of her stomach once more.

It was naive to think her mind would stop racing that night if she didn’t confront Bryce about it. She set the covers that were in her hands down and made her way out into the fluorescent-lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she stopped herself.

Was that really what she wanted to do? If she brought up their almost-kiss, would they ever be able to go back to being friends? Did she even want them to go back to being just friends? She bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should’ve just gone to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their entire friendship on the line. But then again, she would always wonder what could have happened if she never followed her gut.

She raised her fist to knock on his door, but before she could make contact, the door swung open. They once more stood face to face, their wide-eyed expressions mirroring each other. For a moment in time, all that stood between them were the accelerated heartbeat and the flutters they felt for one another.

Bryce’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her hand had found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to hers. His eyes were half-open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair were all too real.

He pulled her into his room, kicking the closed door behind him. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

Thoughts were racing in her mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist so tightly that there were sure to be bruises there the very next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss; she came up empty-handed.

There was no way she felt the same, Bryce told himself. There was no way that she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with her, and for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her friend.

He missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were slightly swollen and her hair was a mess. Her eyes were mesmerising, and the way the light highlighted the softness of her skin made him fall even more. He took that moment to memorise every line and curve of her face, forever branding that memory into his head.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time and sat up, “Stop. we...we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one-time thing.”

“What?”

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw, “Because I love you.”

Her lips curled up in a smile, “I love you too.”

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