#its weird n it complicated but he caved in n asked 4 me back

[gurorori]

hey no need to answer this but i'm sending you the best of luck with what's going on in your relationship and a big big hug

oh i didn forget ab this one btw i jus let this sit. my toxic trait is thinkin i can always tell who the anons r but tbh. i cant! thankyew either way anonnie. sadly i cant assure ya im makin good choices towards said relationship or the downfall thereof

[theonceoverthinker]

When Will My Life Begin? (Fair Game, 11/?)

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Summary: Tangled AU. Clover Callows has been confined to a tower for all of his life, and given the threat that his Uncle Tyrian says his semblance poses to his safety, he accepts that fate. It’s the only life he’s ever known, after all. But when he’s offered the opportunity to fulfill his greatest dream after a chance encounter with a thief -- or bandit, as Qrow Branwen insists there’s a difference between the two -- both Clover and Qrow will discover joys that they never knew life could offer them before.

AO3

A/N: Hi, everyone! I’m sorry if this chapter feels a smidge out of place! I was seeing some family this weekend and the next chapter I had planned was just a bit too complicated for me to give it the focus I wanted to. So instead, I prepared a little mid-space chapter so that I could still give you an update! I hope you like it!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()() Clover Callows felt that like his uncle, he was an intelligent man. He tended to soak up facts Uncle Tyrian told him like a sponge, had a great understanding of scientific fields like astronomy, physics, and biology, took interests in a variety of hobbies ranging from cooking to reading to exercising, and studied all that Uncle Tyrian brought into the tower with a certain methodical thoroughness, whether it be books, elements of nature, or even pieces of food.

However, according to Uncle Tyrian, there was a point where intelligence transcended from just being a collection of facts into being smart and able to do something with those facts. As he described it, what he truly felt allowed someone to graduate from just being intelligent to being truly smart was the ability to take the facts he had and make informed and accurate deductions based off of them.

It was a sentiment Clover found himself strongly agreeing with, and within the confines of his tower, Clover was confident that he encompassed what it meant to be a smart man rather than just an intelligent one. The tower was a finite space with only so many components to make deductions and inferences based off of. It was only natural that he would master anything brought into it if not immediately, then soon after.

That said, Clover was no longer in his tower. He was in a world that felt infinite, a world with people, people he didn’t necessarily understand on anything more than a linguistic level. As he had to constantly remind himself, he was playing by new rules, rules he might end up failing at grasping.

As much as he wished it wasn’t the truth, Clover had reason to doubt whether or not he would truly prove to be smart outside of the tower. Uncle Tyrian had never used the word ‘smart’ to describe Clover before, even while he dutifully stayed in his home. Clover never let himself think too much on that fact, mostly attributing that to a belief that there was just never a time for it to naturally come up. However, there was a second possible reason, once Clover never wanted to acknowledge despite the fact that it may very well have been frustratingly true -- even if Uncle Tyrian thought Clover was smart within the tower, he might not have felt like he was or would ever be smart outside of it, and didn’t want to encourage the growth of undeserved cockiness over a matter that could very well be the difference between life and death by saying otherwise.

It made sense. After all, Uncle Tyrian always told him that for as intelligent as he was, the outside world would eat his naivety and inexperience alive without so much as a second thought, and it wasn’t like he was great at the outside humor his uncle used. If that was anything to go by, then Uncle Tyrian was probably right to not call him as such. 

Nevertheless, the outside world was what he was to traverse through in order to see the floating lanterns, and so for once, he would put all he had in his brain to the ultimate test. 

Clover guessed the moment of truth for that matter was now at hand.

Since leaving the tower, Clover hadn’t had much of a chance to make deductions, at least not the kind that would do him all that much good in the world beyond his tower. He noticed things about the forest and caves, but once they got to the capital or even lunch, it was anyone’s guess -- least of all, Clover’s --  as to what he’d be able to infer about his surroundings.

However, there was one deduction-based decision that he made inside the tower that the fallout of which was still playing out even well outside its boundaries -- the decision to trust one Qrow Branwen.

Trusting Qrow Branwen proved to be a mixed bag, and something told Clover that an answer to whether or not choosing to trust him was a good idea wouldn’t reveal itself for some time yet. He was no doubt both intelligent and smart regarding the ways of the outside world as well as modestly crafty -- if only because of that amazing weapon of his -- but he had also proved himself wily, slippery, and odd in his mannerisms  -- not to mention far more smug than he had any right being. 

Even beyond that though, since he met Qrow, there was one thing about him that had nagged at Clover in much the same way Raven nagged at him every morning for her breakfast.

Qrow had told Clover he’d been chased, and escaping his pursuer or pursuers was his sole motivation for climbing Clover’s tower. Clover had no trouble believing that was true, especially when supplemented by Qrow’s lack of awareness over his semblance.

However, that begged the question as to who or what he was escaping from in the first place.

Right after Clover stuffed Qrow’s unconscious form into his closet back in the tower, there was something that stuck out about him. Everything that Qrow seemed to have on his person made sense to be there -- his clothes, his weapon, his sheath, his cheekbones.

At least that seemed to be the case...until Clover found Qrow’s satchel.

The pin was weird enough, beautiful and refined, but crooked and shoddily made in the same breath, but Clover also realized as he was stashing it away that that pin wasn’t just the primary object in Qrow’s satchel -- it was the only thing in there.

Clover may not have left the tower in his life before just under two hours ago, but even he knew that when one traveled, they packed more in their bags than just a single pin, no matter how beautiful it was.

So what was Qrow’s relation to the pin in his satchel?

Frankly, he had a guess.

After all, Qrow was slippery, so if the circumstances behind what put that satchel in Qrow Branwen’s possession were what Clover thought they were, it wouldn’t exactly surprise him.

Still, as confident that Clover was about the truth of his guess, he had no concrete evidence, and while Clover had been proven right about a lot today, the only thing that had thrown him for a loop was just how non-threatening Qrow turned out to be. Sure, he was borderline shifty at times, but actively dangerous or malicious to Clover or his safety? No, Clover couldn’t say he was, so without any proof of his theory about Qrow’s immediate past before they met, he had to admit that he was in no place to impose such a judgment over his character. 

That proved to be the case until about fifteen minutes into their trek to go get lunch, when a chance gust of wind flew by the forest he and Qrow traversed through. While Clover still felt his heart soar with every blow that came his way, he had grown wonderfully accustomed to the feeling of the wind circling his body like an invisible arm cuddling his waist.

What he wasn’t used to was the flapping noise that it carried with it this time.

Clover knew what the flaps of birds’ wings sounded like. Even though Raven was flightless, he never let himself forget the day they met and the copious amount of flapping sounds he heard during her battle with the hawk. 

Whatever this noise was from, it wasn’t a bird.

No, Clover knew exactly what the sound was once he eliminated that possibility.

He looked out into the stretch of forest before him, studying the area until he found exactly what it was he was searching for. 

Perpendicular to the path he and Qrow were following, Clover spotted it still flapping a bit in the aftershock of the wind’s gust -- a piece of paper. 

Clover had heard the sound of flapping paper many times before, a sign that a storm might be on its way or just a quick means of ending his reading time prematurely. He knew the sound of it like the back of his hand.

The paper he saw stuck out from the edge of the tree’s curve, seeming to be attached to it.

Now that was an interesting sight. What was on it?

Clover and Raven exchanged intrigued expressions.

Even though it was off the path Qrow had directed them towards to go get lunch, Clover couldn’t help himself. When one only had a couple of days to make a lifetime’s worth of memories, diversions were only natural. Raven certainly seemed to have no objections to defying their guide and while Clover found their rivalry to be just a step or two above childish, he couldn’t argue with the excuse provided to go explore something.

Curious, Clover approached the paper.

“What’s this?” he asked, not so much to ask a question, but to make sure Qrow knew that they were taking a little detour. Judging by the loud sigh he heard immediately after he finished speaking, it seemed to do the trick perfectly.

Clover moved to the other side of the tree, placing his left index finger on the page to hold it steady as he looked at it.

And look at it he did. 

Clover had a feeling that he might have even been proved to be right about Qrow’s relationship to the pin in his satchel by the end of their trip, but he didn’t expect to be proven right in such a head-on way as looking directly at a wanted poster with Qrow’s face on it.

His deduction was right.

Turned out that he was smart after all.

From behind him, Clover could tell that Qrow had seen the poster’s contents as well, not only by the rustling of the bushes beside him, but by the mix of a tired sigh and a grunt that left his mouth. 

For a moment, Clover honestly didn’t know what to make of this development. Sure, Qrow had shown himself as nothing but non-threatening so far -- barring his reasoning for his weapon choice -- but that was when he had something akin to anonymity on his side. Now, stripped of that, Clover would’ve been lying if he said that more than a few questions didn’t pop up in his mind during those first few seconds after sensing his presence.

Was knowing this detail about Qrow so plainly to his face going to affect the person Clover thought him to be? Was there a threatening side to Qrow that this bit of information was possibly going to bring out of him? Had Qrow been lying about not knowing Clover’s semblance, planning on taking him somewhere he could better defeat him?

No, none of that felt right, but all the same, Qrow clearly wasn’t happy about this poster’s existence, nor likely the fact that Clover had now seen it.

Qrow mumbled something, something that despite their relative proximity to each other, Clover couldn’t quite make out.

“What did you say?” Clover asked as he turned to look at his traveling companion, trying heroically to keep the faltering of his nerves at bay.

Once more, Qrow mumbled something, but like before, Clover still couldn’t hear it, apart from one word: ‘thief.’

Was he trying to own up to being a thief, or deny it?

Clover had no idea.

“Come again?”

This time, Qrow groaned, loudly and openly.

“I’m not a thief!” he all but shouted. “I’m a bandit! There’s a difference!” Qrow didn’t even look like he was yelling at Clover, but rather the poster on the tree.

Clover’s eyebrow raised as a wave of incredulousness came over him.

He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“That’s what you’re upset about?” 

Clover couldn’t keep his disbelieving tone out of his voice, so he didn’t even try not to.

“It’s my brand!” Qrow shot back without missing a beat.

Nothing but sputters left Clover’s mouth as he tried to figure out how to even begin to unpack Qrow’s words. “You’re on a wanted poster!” 

That felt the most appropriate.

Qrow waved a dismissive hand. 

“I’ve been on those for years,” he said. He then turned back to the poster with a vicious glare. “But despite that, those idiots in the royal guard always get my title wrong!” Clover suddenly felt very tired, in much the same way Qrow was when this conversation started, but for vastly different reasons. 

For Gods’ sake...

“Bandit,” Qrow sneered, continuing his rant against the papery culprit. “Not a thief! Ban-dit. Ban-dit. There’s a difference.” Qrow slapped the poster, and Clover fought the urge to laugh.

It was a fight he largely lost.

“Not really,” he said, chuckling all the while.

Qrow’s sneer stayed present on his face, but directed itself at its new target -- Clover.

“Yes, really,” he argued back.

“Look, Qrow,” Clover said, his confidence overwhelmingly self assured in that moment. “I grew up reading a dictionary for fun. There’s virtually no difference between the two words.”

Qrow seemed like he was about to argue back, but Clover’s words looked to give him a moment’s pause.

“A dictionary?” he asked, clearly confused. Clover honestly couldn’t blame him. Even with his inexperience with other people, he knew that dictionaries were odd things to study so carefully as to point out the distinction -- or in this case, lackthereof -- between two words.

“It’s hard to get books,” Clover argued, shrugging. “A dictionary was the best my uncle could do.”

“Hard to get books?” Qrow asked, incredulousness now lacing his voice like dirt laced the bottom of a boot. “You can just go to the book store and get some. It’s not exactly physics. I swear to the Gods, you just keep getting stranger by the second.”

For a second, Clover was struck in a not-at-all small amount of shock. 

Were they really as easy to get as Qrow said they were? It didn’t seem like he had a reason to lie. The secret, a secret that Clover could tell Qrow was barely trying to keep the longer they traveled together, was now exposed in the most blatant manner possible.

But if Qrow wasn’t lying, then what did that mean? Why did Uncle Tyrian say he had such trouble getting books if they were apparently as easy to obtain as just about anything else?

Perhaps Uncle Tyrian just didn’t want to risk being recognized by people as the man who knew the location of the lucky baby?

Yes, that made sense.

Well, not fully, but it made enough sense for now.

As Clover recovered from his miniature revelation, he scoffed. “At least I’m not throwing a tantrum because only a synonym of my favorite word was used on a wanted poster and not -- oh, I don’t know -- the fact that you’re on a wanted poster!”

Qrow returned the scoff. “As if they could even get me.”

“I got you,” Clover pointed out, smirking. 

“I said it before -- I was distracted and you got lucky. It wouldn’t happen again.” 

Clover groaned under his breath, careful to keep his smirk up. There Qrow went, walking right into the word ‘lucky’ as if it was a lake filled with those poorly put together emerald pins. More so the fact that each use was a coincidence than anything is what drove Clover crazy.

Who managed to do that accidentally so many times?

Qrow pointed to the poster. “The guards in the kingdom have been trying to arrest me for years now, but to no success,” he continued, oblivious to Clover’s silent plight. “And it’s not like they could with how wrong they got my hair. Newsflash -- it’s not that messy!” Once more, he shouted that sentiment not at Clover, but at the poster.

Clover’s smirk immediately dissolved into a laughter-filled smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! They got your hair perfectly!” he barked. Remembering himself, Clover settled down somewhat. “But I knew it! That pin in your satchel -- You stole it!”

“It’s n-!” Qrow looked like he wanted to finish that thought, but seemingly decided it wasn’t worth his or Clover’s time judging by the dismissive wave of his hand. “Well, what of it, smarty pants?” he defensively asked instead.

“Stealing is wrong!”

“Maybe it is --”

“It absolutely is.” Clover interjected, giving Qrow a deadpan look that practically screamed ‘even I know that.’ 

Qrow just shrugged before continuing.

“Look muscles, if it’ll help you sleep any better, I didn’t exactly put a poor family out on the streets by stealing it. I nabbed it off of some rich general. He’s got plenty to live off of, even without it. If anything, I’m actually making use out of the thing instead of continuing to let it collect dust in some attic like it was -- good for the economy, you know?” Clover’s expression stayed the same -- positively deadpanned. Qrow rolled his eyes. “Well, think what you want, smarty pants. Once I get that satchel back, I’m gonna be one rich man. Now, come on.”

Despite Qrow’s dismissive attitude towards the nickname he bestowed onto Clover, Clover himself couldn’t help but smile as he followed Qrow’s lead.

‘Smarty pants.’

Was it the most mature of nicknames? No.

Hell, in just about every way, he even preferred ‘muscles’ to it, though he’d never admit it to Qrow’s face. At least that one was specific to himself and not as much of a mouthful as ‘smarty pants.’

However, what it lacked in elegance or cleverness, it more than made up for in meaning. ‘Smarty pants’ in that moment had an extra level of meaning to Clover, something Qrow likely ran into by accident, but was all the same appreciated. To Clover, it meant that he might actually be smart enough to get by in the outside world after all, and maybe even for more than just this trip to see the lanterns.

Clover’s stomach growled. The detour was nice, but it was now time to get a move on and get some lunch.

Full of confidence from Qrow’s unintentional validation, Clover suddenly found the prospect of talking to other people a little bit less scary, provided they weren’t any more intimidating than Qrow had shown himself to be thus far.

“So, what’s the name of the place we’re going to for lunch?” Clover asked, happy to see Qrow perk up at his question.

“Oh, you’ll love it. It’s a quaint little place called Lil’ Miss Malachite’s.”

[crappyfics]

Cherry Bomb [Part 2]

Rockstar!au / Chanyeol x Reader

Word count: 1 933

Pervious part / Masterlist

“What do you mean by ‘bandmates’? You’ve never told us about your acquaintance and we’ve been in the dark all this time!” Kyung was furiously yelling at me in the parking lot a few blocks away from my apartment building. There was no one with us, not even the rest of the band. They were all gone to their homes and even took Somi with them not to witness the discussion that was about to go down. 

“It is not like we’re friends anyway. We used to be in the same band a few years ago, but that was it.” I explain myself but he clearly didn’t think this was good enough explanation. 

“The way he talked to you tonight didn’t seem like you were just bandmates, Y/N!” He laughed unamused and brought his hand up to his hair pushing it back trying to calm down his nerves. It wasn’t the first time I saw him having a crisis but this time I did not exactly know the reason why he was freaking out. I could guess it was only because I was one of Park Chanyeol’s ‘old friends’, but it felt more like Kyung did not like it when the rockstar took me to the back door for a private conversation. 

If it was already complicated to explain how things were between Chanyeol and me in the past, it was even worst to try and explain what Kyung and I are in the present. I don’t know, it was some kind of weird open relationship that wasn’t ever serious or anything but we tended to ask for a commitment from each other. Our complicated relationship was only a stupid way of being together without ever letting our personal lives affect the band, which was our business. We never meant to go into deep, we never meant to fall for each other, but it was too late to go back when we always found ourselves tangled in the sheets and sharing dreams before going to bed. 

We liked to lie to ourselves too. We pretended that we were fine the way we were, that it really did not affect our band, that regardless of what would happen between us, we would remain professional. But Zack and Jin knew how close we were and how this crazy ass relationship was toxic. If only we assumed each other and tried to keep a balance without hiding and pretending to even our bandmates and friends that we were nothing, things would go much better. 

Me knowing Chanyeol and hiding it from everyone could be a parcel of our argument tonight, but to Kyung the big deal was when I left to speak to the big guy in a more private place because I used to be that close with him. 

“We only talked, Kyung.” 

“What about?” 

“I never hide anything from you, but this time please don’t ask me that.”

“And why not? We’ve been struggling for so long to have stupid gigs around town meanwhile all along you knew someone in the industry. You simply hid it from us that you had a passageway to the industry much easier than what we've been trying to do. I- I don’t get it! And now you can’t tell me what you and Park fucking Chanyeol were talking about?”

“It is strictly personal. I really hoped you could understand that.”

“No, I can’t, Y/N. I can’t! You wanna know why? Because now you’re not hiding things from the band, you are hiding from me and that doesn’t bother me, it infuriates me!”

“Chanyeol and I used to be friends. That’s all, Kyung! We barely still know each other. Telling you that I had a stupid garage band with him wouldn’t change a single thing because HE kicked me out of it!” his wide eyes now watched me surprised by the revelation. Who would ever think that me, a nobody, was once in a band with the biggest rock star in Asia and managed to get kicked out of the project? Oh well, nobody, not even Kyung saw that coming. “He would never help us get there, he would never do anything for me. He never did! Instead, he would steal our songs and make them his own!”

Pause.

It was cold outside but all the yelling heated our bodies. It felt like the thick coat of tension in the air was enough to warm us up. Kyung kept staring at me still agape not really knowing what to say. Me, on the other hand, I did know what I wanted and it was to go home. I couldn’t allow Chanyeol to destroy my career once again, especially now that he had nothing to do with it. I was tired from the concert and the fighting, I just wanted to stay alone, to go home and be by myself. I wasn’t mad at Kyung. I understood his point, or at least I tried. I just didn’t want to open up more than I’ve already done that night. It was enough for me to deal with the memory of Park Chanyeol alone. I didn’t wanna risk having other people reminding me of the guy at times. It was always better keeping it a secret.

“I wanna go home.”

I entered the car and Kyung followed me going to the driver’s seat and silently starting the car. The only sound we could hear was from the engines of the vehicle, we were both silent not really knowing how to approach each other at that point. I wanted to say I was fine and that we should forget about tonight, but I couldn’t forget the memory of Chanyeol’s tall figure towering me when we were both alone by the back door of the venue where the music was muffled and we could hear each other's strange feelings. 

Kyung kissed me goodnight before I left the car, but it wasn’t his affection I was craving tonight. I just hoped it all went away just like Chanyeol did and would do once again. 

I could hear the kettle on the stove dramatically announce that the water was boiling. I got up from the couch and ran to the kitchen to pour myself a generous mug of tea. It wasn’t any great medicine, no. But it sure would help me organize my thoughts better, maybe intercalate ideas between sips. I thought that it all would be weird once the band met again for rehearsal, but afraid of the truth, I stuck with the doubt. I avoided meeting the boys only limiting our conversations to quick and objective text messages.

The only one who caught me home with no difficulty was Somi. But knowing that I wasn’t on my 100%, she also avoided talking about my band's last gig. She did not really have a filter for social interactions, but she had a lot of respect for me and my personal space. Knowing that, I had no problem being at home with her because I knew she wouldn’t push my buttons. Not so soon. 

On cue, I saw my best friend come out of her room and join me at the kitchen table. 

“What’s up?”

“Been trying to finish my homework but I guess I’ll leave it for tomorrow.”

I only nod and shift on my chair giving her space to come and sit beside me. She poured herself some tea and silently we drank from our cups. School was Somi’s life. She woke up early in the morning every day to go to class and she came home late at night. She spent most of her day studying and if not, she would be at work trying to make enough to pay the bills. She would go out with her friends sometimes, but most of those times it was to watch my shows. But she was an ordinary girl. She had an ordinary life and that was amazing. Somi was very down to earth meanwhile I tried to believe I was as responsible as she was. I liked to believe that being a musician was my destiny, that I had a talent for no other thing in this world. But when your band is not very successful, and your talent is not well recognized by big labels, that’s when you have to question yourself and your life decisions. My tea was almost over but I still had no many thoughts I had to go through. I put my cup down. Maybe I should go back to school. Making music was not making much money, at least if I got a job as a waitress and went back to school I might have had a chance to succeed. 

"He asked me what I was doing,” I spoke up making Somi look up at me and try to understand the randomness of the conversation. She stared at me silently. “Chanyeol. He asked me what I was doing playing at a club.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He thinks it’s pathetic.” I moved to drink some more of my tea but I stopped midway remembering there was no more in the cup. I put it down once again. If a sigh could last 4 minutes, that was what Somi would hear from me in the kitchen. “Before that night, the last time I saw Chanyeol was in the garage of his parents’ house. It was after a show in a club. Back then he didn’t think it was pathetic.”

“Why did he even took you to the back door that night? To fucking mock you? What’s wrong with that guy?”

“I wish I knew.”

Ever since my last show, Cherry Bomb got quite popular around town. There were videos all over the internet, and on twitter, we gained so many followers. It had never happened after our show, but last time Zack checked, Byun Baekhyun, one of the Byun siblings, had posted a video of us on Instagram and things got crazy online. 

I wasn’t very fond of the virtual world but I could not deny its power. Zack was doing his best on updating all our social media accounts but things got a little weird and scandalous when rumors started popping out on our feed. Some comments on videos and photos were about “that girl and Chanyeol secretly talking in the back exit door of The Cave.” It was absurd. If they only knew Chanyeol was not being a flirt, these rumors wouldn't have spread so fast like that. 

As if I liked the martyr, when I heard from my bandmates that people were talking about me and the rockstar, I started accessing our accounts just for the sake of knowing what they were saying. Countless comments, countless lies, but also countless pictures taken of us talking so close to each other that from another angle it would look like something else. I was drowning in so much toxicity from the abusive posts, but I could not help myself from seeing them. It was all pretty stupid in the beginning until thousands of notification started appearing on our account.

@Park_CY Old friends reuniting. Fun times!

"OLD FRIENDS!” He literally said that! He called ourselves old friends for the entire internet to see. This was NOT what Park Chanyeol would ever tweet. ‘Old friends’ was not what we seemed to be that night. He called me pathetic, he mocked me, he was not friendly at all. Something was up and I had to find out as soon as possible before it was too late to protect my bandmates. 

Bridge chapter