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#like I saw so many articles this morning and yet it feels like I had a fever dream
shineemoon · 2 years
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COMING SOON
Jinki has been writing lyrics lately and today he said he’s recording (didn’t say what) Kibum’s Keyland jp + repackage Minho’s fanmeetings + solo debut
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would-you-punt-them · 1 month
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Imagine watching a show with probably the most surface level potrayal of the message of "rich people suck and will use poor people for money" only to be like "hm. as the total anthesis of this message i should totally recreate this"
It's made even worse when you consider the fact that this isn't the first "IRL Squid Game" ever attempted, Netflix UK did one that was specifically based on the actual show in January 2023 called "Squid Game: The Challenge".
(I've seen people in the tags get these two shows confused, they are different - Beast Games is on Amazon, not Netflix, was filmed at the end of July this year, and hasn't come out yet).
But Netflix UK have their own scandal to answer for.
That original British Squid Game was also a disaster. "Beast Games" was filmed in the middle of one of Nevada's hottest Julys on record, hence why so many contestants suffered from extreme dehydration due to the lack of water. On the other hand, "Squid Game: The Challenge" was filmed during an unusually cold British January.
The players had been given coats, leg warmers, space heaters, and so on during the lead up to the game, only to have those warm clothes taken away before the first challenge began, because they needed to wear those paper thin canon-accurate Squid Game tracksuits. They weren't even allowed to zip them up, because the cameras needed to see the numbers on their shirts, and the fake blood spurting out when they were eliminated.
They then had to play Redlight-Greenlight in the blistering cold, holding poses, completely still, for increasing lengths of time (2 minutes at the start of the game, 30 in the late stages). Players starting collapsing from the cold, and had to be rescued by medics.
The game started with 456 competitors on Day 1, and ended up with 228 by Day 2.
Here's the Variety article: Inside Netflix’s ‘Squid Game’ Reality Show Disaster: ‘The Conditions Were Absolutely Inhumane’
TL;DR - Here are some choice quotes in case you want to read them:
“The second time the song played, I saw in my left peripheral vision that this girl was swaying. Then she just buckled, and you could hear her head actually hit the ground,” says Marlene. “But then someone came on the [microphone] and said to hold our positions because the game is not paused. After that, people were dropping like flies.”
Jenny, a player from outside the U.K. who had been flown in for the game, tells Variety: “I’m infuriated by the narrative that Netflix is putting out there, that only [a few] people were injured…we were all injured just by going through that experience.
“I’ve never been that cold for that long a period in my life. We couldn’t feel our feet or our toes. It was ridiculous,” she says. Jenny also claims that while the game was in production, restroom or water breaks weren’t allowed.
“Take some responsibility for the fact that you were ill-prepared for this kind of thing, with this number of people,” continues Jenny, between tears. “There were some things I guess [producers] didn’t think about, but when they saw the weather was going to be that way, they should have made adjustments.”
All three players [John, Marlene and Jenny] say they returned to the hotel between 7 p.m. and midnight without having dinner. Dinner orders had been taken at lunch, but because the game had run longer than expected, contestants were transported back to their central London hotel without having eaten. Production had ordered pizzas for those arriving, but there wasn’t enough food to go around, and some people went to bed hungry.
“In the morning, I woke up and there was a cold hamburger from McDonald’s and a side salad in front of my door that had been there for God knows how long,” says Marlene.
(Variety, Feb 3, 2023)
(Also, "Marlene and Jenny" are pseudonyms, because like Beast Game they signed NDAs.)
There are some other similarities with Beast Games - denial of bathroom breaks, lack of food, lack of water, inadequate medical care, and so on.
Netflix is denying these claims, or at least denying that they are as bad as contestants are suggesting, and said that while it was undeniably cold on set, "participants were prepared for that". Participants have claimed that they were, in fact, in no way prepared for that.
We know MrBeast has probably seen "Squid Game: The Challenge", because they've tried to one-up it. The British show originally had "the biggest cash-prize ever offered in reality TV" ($4.5 million), until Beast Games showed up with an ever bigger prize of $5 million.
So, it's not just "Jimmy recreating the Torment Nexus after watching the show "Don't recreate the Torment Nexus".
It's closer to "Jimmy recreating the Torment Nexus from the show "Don't create the Torment Nexus", after watching the show "This is what happens when you create the Torment Nexus".
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eyrieofsynapses · 9 months
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why Aurora's art is genius
It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.
And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.
I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.
SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???
All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3
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I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!
Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.
Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.
THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)
Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:
Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:
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Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.
I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.
If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!
Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:
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Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.
A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):
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(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)
The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—
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—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.
(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)
Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!
One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!
And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—
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—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)
Additionally, the misting here:
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We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.
A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).
Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):
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First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:
The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.
The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.
The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.
A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:
The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)
The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart
The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand
The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)
I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.
Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:
Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.
Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)
And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.
Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.
Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):
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It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:
Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.
And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.
One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.
A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.
Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?
Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):
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The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:
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What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P
Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):
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They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.
Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.
And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3
...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.
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cher-rei · 1 month
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afterglow pt- 14 [ T.A.A ]
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pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.
genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff, slowish burn
[wc: 4.8k] masterlist
notes: time to meet the in-laws heheeh
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the sound of his parents chatting in the kitchen caught trent's attention. he didn't expect them to still be at home seeing as it was a saturday. they were often out together, shopping or just taking a drive to a museum just to get some fresh air.
and judging by their expressions when they saw their son come downstairs fully dressed as if he had somewhere to be, they thought the same. diane set down her coffee on the table and nudged her husband as well.
trent stood frozen for a moment, unsure of the reason for their looks of shock. "what's wrong?" he asked, checking himself to see if it was an issue with his outfit.
michael, his father, stifled a laugh and turned his attention back to his breakfast which left the stare off to diane who had the faintest idea of what the occasion was. it's been like this for weeks now, the same routine of trent coming home late or leaving early in the morning.
sure he was a grown man, but diane knew her son and it was out of character. "do you mind me asking where you're off to?"
trent shrugged his shoulders, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "jamie has some errands to run today, so I'm tagging along."
the familiar name made diane smile. she craned her neck to get a better look at trent who had just blatantly lied to her. he could of just said that you were going on a date, there was really no reason to hide it and he knew that.
it's just that you weren't official yet so he didn't know whether to properly call it a date, or mention to his family that you were possibly the best thing that's ever happened to him. during supper he always had to refrain from gushing over something that you said, or making it obvious that he had feelings for you.
he was merely being careful and didn't want to give himself and his family false hope. was it eating him up on the inside? definitely. but he kept it up, and tried to mellow his emotions until you were ready.
"you know what's funny?" diane said, causing trent to shake his head. "I keep on hearing about jamie but--" she looked around the kitchen and made a gesture to the empty space. "--I never see her."
trent couldn't hold back his groan, his frustration mixing with the sound of his father's amused laughter. "mum, there's no reason for you to see her." he said honestly, a hint of apprehension slipping through his tone.
diane pulled a face. "since when am I not allowed to see your girlfriend?"
trent's heart dropped, his immediate reaction being to cover his face in embarrassment. "she's not my girlfriend, how many times--"
"oh wow." she threw her hands into the air with an exasperated laugh. "it's dua lipa all over again."
the mention of the pop star sent trent into a spiral, his words lodged into the back of his throat while his mother complained to her husband who was trying his best to stay neutral.
"remember dua lipa, michael?" she hit his arm. "we had to find out about her through an article."
"we've been over this, I've never even met dua lipa." he leant against one of the cabinets and rubbed his temples to calm himself down.
it was a few years ago when the rumour began to spread out of nowhere. a few of them said that he was dating the singer, but the vast majority were convinced that he rejected her. where they got that information from? he had no idea.
"so is she better than dua lipa?" michael spoke up, a ghost of a smile hiding behind his coffee mug. he loved to tease his son like this, usually he was the neutral party but not today.
a few muttered words left trent's mouth, incoherent as he tried to figure out what to say. his frustration was on the brink of boiling over and it was evident in the blush on his cheeks. he felt cornered, trapped even though he could just leave. but he didn't.
maybe this is what he needed. enough pressure to finally make the girl he'd been head over heels to light. "I mean she's..." he awkwardly scratched the nape of his neck. "she's nice."
diane's eyebrow quirked. "nice? that's something you say about a dessert, not your girlfriend."
this prompted trent to roll his eyes, not being able to find the words that were resting on the tip of his tongue. "she's a lot of things, okay? a lot of good things."
"oh," it was his fathers turn to lean closer. "so she is your girlfriend?"
"what? no I--"
"yes, you did."
"why don't you invite her over for lunch tomorrow?"
so many things. so many things were being at the same time and it felt as if his head was about to explode. here he was— a grown man being interrogated about his love life. it was all too much and be was beginning to feel overwhelmed.
bring you over for lunch?? with his entire family being here?? INCLUDING HIS BROTHERS?? what were they thinking?
the last thing that he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or rushed and as much as a small part of his softened at the thought of you meeting his family, his logic knew what was right.
so before he burst into tears in front of his parents he covered his ears and darted out the front door straight to his car. he was sure that they were still calling out for him but he needed to be gone. away from all that apprehension.
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"are you sure that it's okay for us to be going out in public like this?"
that question had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since he picked you up, and now that you were nearly at the café it only worsened. ever since the efl final, you've felt a little more cautious about your presence— not just with trent but with the team in general.
your question made trent frown. "I mean it's bound to happen eventually." he watched from the corner of your eye and you fiddled with the clip of your hand bag, a soft "uh huh" leaving your lips.
"are you okay?" his hands caught yours for a gentle squeeze which only managed to supply half of the reassurance you needed. "you've been awfully quiet lately."
your pulse quickened at his observation and managed to bring a small but noticeable smile to your lips. "yeah it's just--" you let out a heavy sigh. "--you know how people are and I don't want this to cause a scene."
almost as if it were planned, trent parked the car not too far from the café, and immediately unbuckled his seatbelt to face you properly. he searched your uneasy expression for answers while you shuffled in your seat, your cheeks growing warm.
"jamie," he said softly, gaining your attention. "is this about the interview last week?"
your expression depicted an ease you didn't necessarily feel, uncomfortable with his ability to figure you out so well. you could have lied and said no, but trent's gaze was intense in a way that you couldn't bring yourself to hide anything.
your composure was under attack, so you simply nodded. trent's expression grew still and serious, not having thought that the post match interview a week ago would've gotten to you, and neither did you.
you were headstrong, the type to not let the words of others cut deep enough to fracture your demeanor but this gnawed at your confidence.
it happened for the past few days, where you'd find your thoughts trialling back to that evening as you stood in the press room not too far from the back as jurgen and virgil were interviewed respectively. it was going as per normal until your name slipped from jurgen's mouth.
you weren't paying much attention until then.
"she was rather rowdy today from the bench," the reporter prompted and your shoulders tensed, not catching the way that jurgen's brows drew together in an angry frown but the reporter continued. "this happens often. what is it like having her around during matches? she's not a part of the team so does it cause any issues?"
issues? was there a line that you crossed?
jurgen was quick with his answer but the hint of anger in his tone was clear despite his chuckle. "jamie likes to be part of the action, she's always standing on the touchline with me and asking questions. she's very passionate about the sport and it's nice to see that she cares."
the reporter opened his mouth again to further his question but jurgen cut him off, his gaze intense which contraindicated the smile he adorned. "If I had the choice I'd say she should take after me when I resign."
that wasn't even the worst, the entire press conference you felt targeted as if everyone was watching you with more criticism than usual. you were used to the attention but this was suffocating— and it had gotten to you unfortunately.
trent's gaze softened, cupping your chin. "you did nothing wrong. they were just prying for something and didn't get what they wanted."
"they said I'm too intense." you stiffened with a heavy sigh mimicking the weight on your chest. "I think that I need to take a few steps back, trent."
"well you're thinking wrong," he said, his voice raising a bit at your absurd idea. "we love you when you're screaming on the touchline, we love you when you're dragging us to do stupid tiktoks for the supporters, and we sure as hell love you when you give us the energy we need."
you bit your lip to stifle a grin, letting trent's lecture settle in the air for a moment. "you think my tiktoks are stupid?"
an easy smile played at the corners of his mouth and he leant forward, his lips grazing yours as he spoke. "very."
the feeling of trent's lips gently melting into yours lifted an immense weight from your shoulders. the sensation sent your thoughts spinning, any doubts vanishing almost immediately until you pulled away, breathless.
when the two of you finally entered the café— the whole reason for this entire trip, you were pleasantly surprised to see that there were fewer people than you expected. trent casually took the liberty of ordering, happy to know that you trusted him enough to know what you liked.
you picked out a spot at the back of the café, a few tables away from the window so you weren't spotted too easily. just in case. as you settled, trent couldn't help but notice the way that the soft light from the window and how it danced on your features.
he smiled. feeling grateful for the moment of peace despite what happened in the car. he knew better than anyone than this being a dangerous idea, that no matter how well known that you were, it was only bound to ruin your image if certain people saw you together.
trent has had his fair share of crazy or delusional fans that took it a step too far on more than one occasion, and it was one of the main reasons that he kept his social life as private as possible. but not with you. it was impossible in every way.
but that didn't mean that he was going to back off.
his attention was drawn back to you began uncontrollably giggling from the seat opposite him.
"what's so funny?" he asked, trying to peak over at your screen.
you teasingly held the phone out of his reach, a playful smile etched on your lips with the twinkle in your eyes. "just sofía. pablo walked in on her changing."
trent raised an eyebrow. "they're still living together? I thought that they would've killed each other by now," he joked and you nodded your head.
"alex says that they're bound to crack under pressure any day now."
your comment had trent fighting back his laughter, mostly agreeing with the statement seeing as their personalities classed and complimented each other's in the best way possible. he didn't know much about them, but with the stories that you've told him, they needed to get a room.
when your desserts arrived your eyes lit up immediately and almost instinctively your hand reached for your phone and opened the camera. trent was just about to taint his cake when you slapped his hand away.
his eyes widened at the harsh act, looking to you with his lips parted. "what did I do?"
you rolled your eyes and continued to take pictures of the food, making sure to get every angle possible. "it's like you've never had a girlfriend before," you muttered in slight irritation.
trent on the other hand couldn't let the comment slip by, his lips tugging up into a smile. "oh? so you're my girlfriend now?"
your body tensed immediately, unable to look him in the eye as he held your flustered state under his playful gaze. the heat rushed to your cheeks quicker than you expected and to save yourself the embarrassment you remained silent to prevent stuttering.
it hadn't even been a month yet but you were definitely ready to jump into whatever he wanted. you couldn't bring yourself to say it though and decided to wait until he brought it up. which was now apparently.
after a bit of forced laughter, you scoffed. "nobody said that I wanted to cancel my trial. yet. you haven't done anything to chase me away yet either, so at least there's hope."
he rolled his eyes at your quip and watched as you continued to eat your cake, your mouth moving as you talked to him but nothing registered. instead his mother's voice sounded through his mind.
it was now or never.
"would meeting my parents be enough to chase you away?"
spamjam._.
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liked by trentarnold66, sophiaamelia and 3 292 125 others
spamjam._. girlfriend core ☕️💍
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user my girlfriend core
→ user watch sofía spawn out of nowhere just to tell you stay in your lane 😭
→ fía.messi stay in your lane.
→ user I'm howling 🤣😭🤣😭🤣😭
trentarnold66 free trial coming to an end core 💍
→ spamjam._. stfu 😃
sophiaamelia if gorgeous was a person 🎀
→ spamjam._. have you seen yourself??
saffiekhan we were supposed to go to that café together!! you absolute traitor 😃
→ spamjam._. well I'm sorry that you had a date with your BOYFRIEND
→ saffiekhan this isn't about him!
→ curtisjr I don't even know why I try at this point tbh 👎🏼
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"no way you got my mum flowers," trent said in awe when you got into the car, the vibrant colours of the assorted bouquet set on your lap.
you buckled your seatbelt and gave him a knowing look at the absurd remark. "of course I did. what do you take me for? an animal?"
the footballer didn't bother responding to the question and scoffed, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before heading back to his house, where his family were gathered for sunday lunch as usual.
at the café yesterday, he wasn't sure what overcame him when he asked you to join them as his mother suggested, but something swelled in his heart when you happily agreed. there was a glint of excitement and disbelief in your eyes that he couldn't help but reprocicate.
and even if you were anxious (which you definitely were) you hid it well enough for trent to feel at ease too. the two of you shared one last look of reassurance before getting out of the car and leaping head-first into something that would either be a mistake or just what you both needed.
you felt his hand slip into yours and give it a light squeeze to ease your nerves, finally opening his front door. you were familiar with his house, just not when there were other people besides the two of you inside.
a wave of nausea washed over you when you stepped into the foyer, trent's hand not letting go of yours even when his mother caught you both before you could walk any further.
the woman adorned a gleaming smile at the sight of you st her son's side, even better that he was holding onto you for dear life. "hello, jamie sweetheart," she greeted with her arms out for a hug. "it's so good to see you again."
you let go of trent's hand and gave into her embrace with an even bigger smile knowing that she was actually happy to see you. "hi, diane. it's good to see you too."
from a few steps back, trent watched with lovestruck eyes and his heart pounding in his chest at the exchange between the two of you. the look on his mother's face was so familiar— the same glint of comfort and adoration she had for him and the rest of his family.
he watched as you handed her the bouquet with diane nearly bursting into tears at the kind gesture. trent couldn't tell if he was overwhelmed or simply in love, ready to get down on knee right then and there. but it was only when the two of you walked further into the house and he was left behind in the foyer that his mother's greeting registered in his mind.
it's so good to see you again.
he didn't have time to ponder on it however and made a beeline for the living room where the rest of his family were. tyler and marcel were standing in front of the television, playfully arguing about something that didn't matter. his father was sitting on the sofa beside tyler's girlfriend olivia who had her daughter resting on her lap.
it was nothing out of the ordinary but trent couldn't find the words lodged in his throat, only managing to watch you greet the rest of his family members who were more than delighted to meet you.
you were familiar with tyler and marcel after having run into them a few times at matches, but this was your first time meeting olivia. the happily handed her daughter over to her father-in-law to stand up and properly greet you with a hug, complimenting your outfit before you could compliment hers.
"and this angel must be aura," you cooed and bent down slightly to tickle her stomach earning a slight giggle from the infant. "there's not a second that goes by where your uncle isn't talking about you and I can see why."
you look up at olivia with a smile. "I love her name. it's gorgeous."
she waved her hand in front of her face at the compliment again. "thank you. it's been in my notes app since I was in year 10."
your lips parted at the familiar answer and you immediately reached for your phone. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours..."
"shut up, deal. tyler watch aura, jamie and I are heading to the kitchen to help with lunch," olivia said hurriedly took you by the hand and led you to the kitchen without further discussion.
you didn't even spare trent a final look before you were swept away, the comfort finally setting in around the family. trent was still stood silent in the archway of the living room, watching as your figure disappeared further into the house as your laughter rung through the air along with olivia's.
"ew, he's in love," tyler commented with a face of disgust, completely disregarding the fact that he had a girlfriend and a daughter.
the afternoon progressed smoothly with you and olivia helping diane in the kitchen (you spent a good 40 minutes talking about absolute nonsense). it got to the point where you forgot that trent was somewhere in the living room.
"you've never been?"
olivia shook her head at your question and sighed. "I haven't had the time. aura is literally all I see 24/7."
a small frown took place on your lips. "leave her with tyler for a few hours. I'll tell you when I'm free and we can try it out. I'll make it my mission that you see the light of day again."
the rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter and getting to know each other. your main fear was that you were going to be interrogated about every single part of your life, but it was nothing like that. instead, the questions were out of genuine intrigue.
"have you always wanted to venture into sports marketing?" michael asked, from one end of the dinner table and you eagerly nodded.
"I wanted to work in the industry one way or another," you said with a genuine smile. "I wasn't too keen on journalism, so when I started gaining a following online I thought that I might as well put it to good use."
michael hummed in acknowledgement and looked at trent with a smile from beside you. "well if you hadn't then I'm sure you wouldn't be sitting here right now."
diane laughed at her husband's comment, taking notice of the blush on her son's face as his brothers teased him. the entire afternoon she couldn't help but watch in awe at how he acted around you.
it made her heart ease knowing that he acted comfortably around you, how he could joke and tease you with you doing it back with just as much playfulness. even at the dinner table, when you spoke he couldn't keep his eyes off you and listened attentively.
a blush rose to your cheeks at marcel's question about when you started to develop feelings for his brother. trent shot him a glare from across the table but you waved him off, giving him a moment to think even though you knew exactly when it was.
you leant back in your seat casually and nudged trent's arm. "he kicked me with a ball during training. it hit my arm and there was this huge bruise for two weeks."
"trent john alexander-arnold!" diane gawked in shock, turning to him with a disappointed look, causing him to raise his hands in defence. "how could you do that??"
"it wasn't on purpose!" he defended and looked at you beside him, the smile etched on your phase because you knew exactly what you were doing. "jamie, you said it didn't even hurt."
you shrugged your shoulders. "I didn't want to make you feel bad. you were already bummed over the injury."
tyler laughed at the memory of his brother's hamstrings injury last year. "I remember that. he was so depressed, ugh take me back. life was so good back then."
"tyler don't say that, you know how upset it makes him," olivia scolded her boyfriend, slapping him on the arm but he had no regrets and let the comment stand.
trent sent her a grateful look, but you couldn't help but laugh. "you think that was bad?" a laugh escaped your lips. "you should've seen how he waddled down the stairs at the training center."
the rest of the dinner table burst into laughter, except for trent of course who was covering his face in embarrassment. not sure of who's side you were on in this case. and it only got worse when you showed them the video of you and dominik shutting the elevator door before be could make it in.
the cheeky laughter of both you and his best friend brought back the memory, the video perfectly showing just how pathetic he was when trying to catch up, but obvious didn't make it.
it was a bit before 5 p.m and aura had just woken up from her nap when you all gathered in the living room. the saudi arabian grand prix played as a form of entertainment as you sat with trent's head resting on your shoulder while aura sat on your lap, occupying herself with the rings on your fingers.
"oh, come on these mercedes drivers are going to be the death of me," michael said in frustration, gradually bringing the conversation around to the mechanics of the car and how the season hadn't been too good so far.
you were fairly quiet for bit, watching the rave with immense concentration until you were pleasantly surprised. "oh my gosh!" your excitement made both aura and trent jump up, but you were too busy taking pictures of alex on the screen to bother.
"sorry, you know how I get when I see alex show up at races," you apologised and trwnt shook his head, resting it back onto your shoulder.
"you talk to her every waking moment of the day, you're insane," he said, still not understanding how you could get so giddy just by seeing her on screen.
olivia looked at you with her eyes widened. "you know her?"
you nodded with a proud smile. "she's one of my best friends. just haven't seen her in a while."
"oh, so you're famous famous," marcel added. "how did trent even manage to catch your eye??"
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after the race, you found yourself helping diane with the dishes. well that was until trent decided to interrupt the moment to which his mother happily leave you two be, a fond smile on her face as she left the kitchen.
the two of you didn't exchange any words for a few minutes and instead packed away the dishes in silence, your bodies moving in a familiar motion that happened quite often at your own home when he helped you with cleaning.
you took a moment to breathe, leaning back on the counter as trent finished up the last of the utensils. a fond smile formed on your face for some reason but you didn't fight it and kept your attention on him even when be caught on.
he quirked a brow in confusion. "why are you looking at me like that?" he took a few steps towards you.
"looking at you like what?" you teased and he eventually stopped in front of you, casually draping his hands around your waist as if there was any sort of privacy.
you didn't fight it though.
the footballer rolled his eyes jokingly, unable to believe that you still had the energy to joke with him after outing him multiple times today. he was sure that at some point his face was unable to remain any other colour besides red with the way that he was blushing.
"you know what?"
your question raised even more confusion but he nodded slightly, allowing you to carry on with whatever you wanted to say.
"I think it's time to clear up the fog," you said and took a deep breath. "I like the way that we work."
trent's lips parted and he went immobile for nearly a minute. the words that came from his lips made no sense, to the point where you had to pinch him. suddenly he let go of you and walked to the other end of the room, purpose in his stride as he shut the kitchen door and locked it.
oh, shit.
he was frantic with his movements and you were struggling to keep up until he took your hands into his and gave you a look. "are you sure?"
"100%." you retorted with so much confidence, making trent's smile widen in excitement, the twinkle in his eyes nearly losing you.
"jamie," he started softly, gaining your attention. "would you like to--"
he didn't even get to finish his sentence before your lips were on his, ever so thankful that he locked the door so that you could cherish the moment properly.
your body melted under his touch, the feeling of his lips tugging into a smile having your heart pounding harder than it ever had before. all those months of uncertainty led up to this moment— late-night drives, weeks without talking to each other, advice from your friends. everything led up to this feeling of bliss and relief.
when you pulled away you were both breathless, with childlike smiles and laughter sounding through the room that you felt your tension drip away in.
spamjam._.
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spamjam._. spot my girlfriend 🤭
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landonorris help. HELP ME (you look good but please answer my messages)
→ spamjam._. security!!!
trentarnold66 spot my girlfriend
→ fía.messi bro stfu that's my line. get a life or something! [liked by spamjam._.]
user @trentarnold66 UHM WHAT DID HE SAY??? HE'S KIDDING RIG&/??
→ user I THREW UP
→ trentarnold66 I was talking about the car 😭
→ user oh... OH
→ user he's just a man fr 😔
alexandrasaintmleux I was smiling at the camera because I knew you were watching ml xx [liked by spamjam._.]
→ spamjam._. I love you ❤️
charles_leclerc please stop stealing my girlfriend 🙏🏻 [liked by spamjam._.]
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mytavruin · 6 months
Text
Title: Sweet morning Dew
Word count: 922
Summary: Just some cute sibling banter.
DU Drow belongs to @meanbossart
Can be read on A03 if you prefer there as well.
Raine had gathered bread, cheese, meat and a waterskin of wine on a small plate. Early morning had brought on the sound of birds and dawn's sweeping mist. The vampires lay in their tents, trancing to avoid the sun’s rays. Yet, she and her bloodkin, a drow with no name, had taken to doing chores for the day. Raine crossed the gentle plains, morning dew soaking the ends of her pants.
Down by the river, her bloodkin was beating several articles of clothing clean. She nearly dropped the plate of food from how ridiculous the drow looked. His brow was furrowed in concentration, in fact he looked even more harrowed now than he did in battle yesterday. Raine trotted over to him, giving her bloodkin a small curtsey.
“I brought breakfast.”
He grunted an affirmative, but went back to beating the blood from the shirt. Each slap against the rocks sent droplets everywhere.
“Here, let me help.” Raine took the shirt while handing off the plate of food to the drow. He looked pensive at the food before taking the wine skin and drinking that.
Always like a man to drink first instead of eat, she mused. The cantrip was an easy one and the words so familiar they may as be a lullaby. In an instant the shirt was clean, dry and even smelled better.
“Is this Astarion’s?”
“Yes.”
“How sweet of you to take care of his clothes.”
“Thank you,” he took the shirt and gave back the plate of food, without the wine. “Can you fix the hole here?”
“Sadly, no. That's mending and I never got that far to learn that one.”
The drow grunted once more, before folding the shirt neatly and handing Raine a pair of soaked pants. She sighed, before casting prestidigitation once again, leaning the black leather pants clean and with a bit more shine to them.
“Thank you, sis—bloodkin.”
The mistake didn't go unnoticed to Raine's ears. She let the comment slide off her as she saw the Drow’s downcast eyes.
“Don't worry about it.” Raine took a bite of the breakfast she had made for the drow, seeing as he wasn't going to eat it. The elf sat down on the rocky shoreline as the Drow took out another shirt and began cleaning.
“You really need to pick up some soap. Hells, even salt will help you better.”
“I prefer this way.”
“Do you prefer it or is it the only way you know?” The statement got a cold dead stare, his golden eyes illuminated by the rising sun. He didn't answer, he simply went back to scrubbing the blood in the cold River water removing as many of the stains he could.
“Can I give you a name?”
“I don't need a name.”
“Well, I have to call you something, drow is getting old and we have two of you and it feels a tad…racist. Well, a lot racist.”
“I don't care. Elf.”
“Rude.” She tossed a piece of cheese at his head and it struck true, hitting him directly on his crown.
“Don’t your mother tell you not to waste food.”
“No, she died.”
“You killed her?”
“In the kitchen with a knife.” Raine grinned.
They both burst into laughter, a dark sense of humor only children of Bhaal could have.
“How about, Nolanim’aer?”
“No.”
“Yazyl’aghar?”
“No. I told you I don't need a name.”
“You're no fun.”
“How did you know such names?”
“I lived in Menozoberranzan for a long time. Honestly, I am probably more drow than you.” She paused, pressing her hand to her chin, “Durvayas?”
“No! You will drive me mad.” The drow tossed a wet shirt at Raine, who quickly cast prestidigitation, instantly drying the shirt and cleaning, removing the stains that were still left on the faded blue fabric. “Oh, how about elvish names? Nuvian?”
Groaning, the drow took the last piece of clothing he had and tossed it at the elf. The trousers were not wet, but dirty. She let the fabric hit her in the face, thinking it harmless, but Raine got a huge whiff of how absolutely funky the drow could be.
“Hells below, you are rancid!”
The drow laughed, and stepped from the river.
“I don't need a name bloodkin. Please drop it.”
A taunt pout formed on Raine’s lips, “Fine, oh nameless one.” She rolled her eyes.
“How old are you that you can act so childish?”
“75 more or less. I don't recall the early years, but that's what the clerics thought.”
“You are far too old to be acting as you do.”
“And you are far too young to be so uptight.”
The drow picked up the clean clothing and marched back to camp as Raine walked along beside him holding his still dirty trousers with one hand and pinching her nose.
“Woman, clean them already.” The drow barked.
“Will you let me give you a name?” They weren't even halfway to camp when she started back on the subject.
“If you will stop prattling on about it.”
“Dew.”
He paused. The name wasn't elvish or undercommon as he’d expected. Raine smirked, “Uh oh, you didn't say no. Does that mean you like it?”
“I hate it.”
“But you didn't say no.”
“I will let you call me that only if you clean my trousers. And only for one day.”
Raine beamed. She tossed the trousers into the air and they came back down, free of stains and brighter in color than before.
“There you go, Dew.”
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bvidzsoo · 8 months
Text
Love Me Like A Rockstar (4)
ー☆ Chapter 4: Comatose
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Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
ー☆ Warning: cussing, mentions of a panic attack ー☆ Word count: 8.1k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?
A/N: Hello, lovelies! The long awaited 4th chapter is here and omg I'm so sorry for the long wait! I haven't even realized it's been a month since my last update...but I had a lot of stuff to do for my University and just didn't find the time to write, but here I am now, and I'll try to update next week or after that! I promise you'll have lots of Mingi next chapter *wink wink*, but I hope after reading this chapter Yn's attitude will make more sense, and that she won't be so insufferable anymore to you all reading. Please listen to the fourth song Comatose before or while reading this chapter! Yes, I have totally made Mingi wear his waterbomb outfit in this chapter because waterbomb Mingi shall NEVER be forgotten, goodbye. Please leave feedback, I truly appreciate it! Enjoy now! I have a surprise coming next chapter, hehet^^
Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng
⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩
♫Playlist♫
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『I don't care enough to miss you
After all the shit we've been through
My heart's comatose, comatose』
The blinking of the cursor was staring back at me mockingly, a reminder that my fingers haven’t moved in the past ten minutes. No thoughts connected to the theme of my project came to mind, no matter how hard I tried and how many articles I read. My mind seemed to be blank at the moment and it seemed like it wouldn’t get any better anytime soon. To be honest, I wasn’t feeling well. And that usually reflects in my work and influences my whole mood, and even day. I thought I would have a very productive day as I got ready this morning and went to the library to finish my art assignment, however, the little kick I had, came crushing down the second Mingi decided to sit with me. Well, perhaps that one small factor wasn’t the real reason which ruined my mood and brought me to the brink of a panic attack, and the current void and emptiness I have been feeling in my chest ever since. Perhaps it was the mention of Jeong Yunho and the reminder of how little I have always meant to him. My lower lip quivered again, and I allowed myself to fall back in the chair I was sitting in, staring up at my white ceiling in desperation. Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be Yunho again? Was the Universe having a laugh at me? What were the chances that this Song Mingi was the same Song Mingi Yunho never shut up about while we were dating? It was frustrating. It was maddening and it was…mocking. I couldn’t help but feel bitter the longer I allowed the image of Mingi and Yunho laughing, hanging out, falling all over each other, linger in my mind. Their hearts filled with joy and their time spent with endless conversations, late night trips to the convenience store, random road trips and the overall feeling of knowing that you always had one person you could rely on no matter what. What did Mingi have that I didn’t? What did Yunho see in him that he never saw in me? Why was Mingi better than me? And why…was I suddenly feeling this vial jealousy creeping up in my chest like an ugly monster, the whisper of thoughts I have always tried to push to the depths of my mind after Yunho’s sudden, but heartbreaking, departure from my life?
『Straight coats and empty cabinets
Ashes from all the mess you left
New lease without you
I confess that I'm happy you're gone』
What was it about Song Mingi that Yunho was so infatuated with? What was it with Song Mingi that everyone seemed to like and gravitate towards? All I could see was the arrogance and self-centeredness rolling off of him in waves any time he entered a room. The need to shine and be the center of attention, to be the only person anyone was able to see, to focus on. The constant smirk or grin on his lips, almost always mocking or just an awful reminder that he was better than you—it was subtle, but it was there. The mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched your every move, hiding behind a wall of emotionlessness, sharp eyes watching but not giving anything away. There was no honesty in his expressions or in his actions. But why did nobody else see that? Why was I the only one picking up on how insincere Mingi actually was? Why did nobody question what he hid behind those dark and sharp eyes? His face so often void of any emotion. And then, to further prove my confusion, the Mingi I talked to today was—why did he feel different? Everything staring from his appearance to his behavior was unlike the infuriating person I have come to know. He portrayed a calm and collected nature, albeit still mischievous as he had taken my sketchbook without my permission, yet it was so clear on his face that he didn’t have any mal intentions. What prompted him to approach me out of the blue and why did he look almost…lonely? What drew him to smile so much and so freely? It certainly couldn’t have been me; I have done everything I could to make him feel unwelcome and uncomfortable, yet he…stayed. He talked without a care in the world, almost as if he forgot I would be judging his every move and sentence. He almost looked curious of who I was, trying to make conversation in which I did not want to engage in. What was it about Yunho that made his eyes sparkle so much? Why did Yunho have so much of an influence on Mingi? Why did it have to be Mingi? Why does Yunho have to be everywhere around me even after he leaves? Does Yunho really mean that much to Mingi? Just how deep is their bond? But the most jarring thought amidst the spiraling of my mind into a place I did not wish for it to go, was a very simple one. Why do I care about Song Mingi all of a sudden? Why do all these things matter to me all of a sudden? Who is Song Mingi to me to send me into an existential crisis, into a state of nervosity, and restlessness, and so much bitterness? He’s just a guy. A guy who is very irritating, arrogant, self-centered, and a pushover. A guy who only wants attention and is superficial. A guy who forgets about you the second he’s turned his back to you. A guy who only likes you until you’re new and exciting. When you start becoming boring, what does it matter anymore? Why would he keep you around for longer? Perhaps him and Yunho have more in common than I would have thought at first.
『So used to pain that it's my remedy
Easy to hate, I gave you everything
Funny that you're the one that ran away
You left me first』
I couldn’t do this anymore, I had to stop thinking. I needed my brain to shut up, to stop torturing me more than I was already hurting. I refused to reach my breaking point again just because Mingi mentioned that Yunho was his best friend—why was I giving him so much power? Trying to snap out of it, I groaned loudly as I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms, sitting up straight again to try and focus for the last time on my project. I had to get this done in two days, I really couldn’t slack off anymore. So, I opened the previous tab I was reading from and scrolled up in order to start reading the article from the beginning once again, hoping that the words in it would finally stick. But despite my attempt to finally focus on the only important task at hand, the loud ping of my phone quickly pulled my attention away from it. I jumped at the loud sound and cursed silently, having forgotten to put my phone on ‘do not disturb’. My eyes snapped down to it mildly annoyed, but quickly furrowed when I realized it was a message from an unknown number. I stared at it for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion.
Unknown: are u coming to Outlaw tonight?
Before I could really control myself, curiosity overtook me. It must’ve been someone who knows me since they were asking about Outlaw. They must have seen me there last time.
Me: who’s this? Unknown: mingi lol
My eyebrows instantly furrowed as I stared down at the message, my stomach doing a weird flip. My fingers hovered over the screen of my phone, tempted to just quickly block his number and forget about the past ten seconds, because what the fuck? How did he even get my number? I certainly don’t remember giving it to him.
Me: wtf? how do you have my number. Unknown: wooyoung
I blinked, mind blanching for a second. Wooyoung? That made even less sense as Wooyoung and I have met just once and I have not given him my phone number. I waited for a few seconds longer, waiting for Mingi to explain further, but it never came. No small dots indicating that he was texting anything else. I groaned and looked at my pale green wall for a second, trying to collect my thoughts and not throw my phone out the window. Why did he have to have my number? Was this Mingi’s way of getting on my nerves even more? And now I had to figure out how Wooyoung got my number—oh. I tsked in disbelief, eyes zooning in on the picture of Seulgi and myself I had on display on my desk. Of course, that little bitch. Why would she ask me first before giving my phone number to a complete stranger—even if Mingi wasn’t that, I still didn’t want him to have it.
Me: whatever, i’m blocking you. Unknown: so, are you coming then? Me: no, mingi, i am not.
I rolled my eyes at Mingi’s insistency of getting an answer and blatant ignorance towards my threat of blocking him—which wasn’t as menacing as I wished for it to be. But it only took him seconds to answer, and I tried not to think about how quickly he was responding.
Unknown: ok
My eyes narrowed at his simple—and sharp—answer, fingers hovering over the keyboard to fire an insult at him if he went ahead and started leaving more messages, wanting to remind him that I was not in any shape or form curious to hear any more of his bullshit. The bitterness was quite strong in the back of my head, jealousy searing through my body—I couldn’t help it. A minute or two passed, but Mingi wasn’t typing anything else and I huffed, irritated by his antics. Why was he even asking if I would go to Outlaw? I hated it the first time—well, maybe that was a little lie—and I still hate it now, so therefore I had not one reason to go and watch him perform again. Not one particle in my body wished to hear his raspy voice accompanied by a guitar, bass, and drums. I was quite content by going to bed early tonight and forgetting about the whole day, hoping that my chest would feel less heavy in the morning and the green monster would be gone from my head. And yet, despite my better judgment, my fingers worked quickly, before my mind could even register what I was doing, and I was saving Mingi’s number. There was no desire in me to have his name in my phone under any shape, so I stopped for a second to ponder over the many options I could be calling him, such as: idiot, dumbass, jackass, prick, mr. arrogant—were sounding rather pleasing to my ears—and yet, despite the wicked grin I had on my lips, my mind seemed to settle for a simple ‘I hate him’. His number was saved in my phone without putting more thought into what I was doing, and I was placing my phone aside, attention going back to my project. Now, there was nothing in the world which could disturb me again—but then my phone rang. I groaned loudly and felt like pulling on my hair, staring at my cursed phone heatedly. I was half expecting Mingi’s number to pop-up, but thankfully it wasn’t him. That would’ve been the last straw for today, I certainly would’ve gone crazy. Instead, it was Seulgi calling and I knew she had something important to say if she wasn’t texting. I picked up, albeit with disdain.
“Hey!” She sounded cheerful, excited. Very much the opposite of my mood right now.
“Hi.” I muttered and started tapping my forefinger against my desk, staring down at the article I had opened in front of me.
“You sound like you want to kill someone.”
“And I do.” My answer made Seulgi laugh, making me sigh. And that person was Song Mingi, of course.
“What’s got your panties in a twist this time, huh?” Seulgi’s voice was playful, and unfortunately, it was only building up my irritation. She didn’t have any bad intentions, but I couldn’t handle her cheeriness and playfulness at the moment. I needed to be alone. I needed to not think and just get shit done.
“Why did you call?” I preferred not to answer her question as I asked another one, voice not snappy just tired as Seulgi remained silent for a second on the other end.
“Noir Zenith are performing at Outlaw tonight,” I knew where this was going, I just gulped realizing Mingi had asked the same thing of me just mere minutes ago, “Do you want to come with me?”
“No.” My answer was too fast and harsh, I quickly tried to mend it, “I’ve got a family thing—issue, I mean. I’m sorry, but I can’t come because of it…”
My voice got quiet as I trailed off, not particularly fond of lying to my best friend, but I really didn’t want to go out tonight and I knew if I told Seulgi the real reason she would complain and complain until I finally gave in, her tactic of coercion working just fine on me. I never stood a chance in front of her when she would start complaining and whining and bringing up all the times I have bailed on her in the past.
“Oh,” It wasn’t hard to hear the disappointment in her voice, and if I weren’t in such a bad headspace at the moment I would have felt awful, “it’s fine, I get it. But…you do know you can tell me anything, right?”
I sighed loudly, “I know, thanks Seulgi, and sorry. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“Don’t worry about it,” She was smiling now, adding a small chuckle too, “We all have bad days, I’ll see you at university tomorrow?”
“Most certainly.” A small smile made it onto my face and Seulgi quickly bid her goodbye as we hung up, silence enveloping me. I didn’t forget to press the ‘do not disturb’ button this time as I placed my phone on my desk, next to my laptop, and faced the article taunting me. Not finishing this project today wasn’t an option anymore, and so, I quickly dove in, the torturing thoughts finally silent somehow.
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            The hours went by quickly and despite my mind struggling to focus on the task at hand, I made it. I finished the project in about four hours and it definitely gave me a little confidence boost, which I desperately needed after the emotional turmoil I was forced to face today. My mind was a mess. I was tired and I needed to sleep. I didn’t even care how early or late it was as I got into bed, forgetting to wash my face or even change into my pajamas, I just needed to lay my head down and close my eyes. And it was working well…until it wasn’t. The warmth of my thick blanket enveloped me and my head grew heavier as my muscles relaxed, the comfort of my bed bringing peace to my loud thoughts. It felt nice. To finally be able to forget everything that’s happened today, to just let go and…sleep. I really needed this; I haven’t felt this exhausted in a long time. I have never been good at dealing with my feelings, I usually pushed them away and ignored everything I felt…until they blew up in my face. Then, I would finally break and it was chaotic and messy. I knew it was the wrong coping mechanism, but I couldn’t help it. Nothing else worked, because I just couldn’t deal with the pain. I hated the overwhelming thoughts, the pressing heaviness and constant pain. I just simply didn’t want to deal with them. Drawing was a nice way of escaping my reality, but lately it didn’t help. It drew me up the wall, it was so frustrating. So many emotions had been steering hidden deep inside these past weeks, I didn’t know how to deal with them—I didn’t want to deal with them, actually. I needed them silent, gone.
And despite needing to sleep right now, eyes heavy and mind fuzzy, it wasn’t working. Nothing helped. My mind was silent, yet my ears were buzzing, whispers so quiet in the back of my head that I could barely hear them. My chest was heavy, it felt like I needed to cry, but my throat was closing in on me, refusing to let any tears to the surface. I could breathe, but at the same time I couldn’t. Turning on to my left side did nothing, but snap my eyes open. Why couldn’t I sleep? Why was this feeling returning? Why couldn’t I just rest for one fucking second?! I buried my head into my pillow and let out a silent scream, punching the soft mattress of my bed next to my head, legs trashing around as I needed to let out the creeping hysteria in my body somehow. Was I finally going crazy? Was my mother’s premonition finally blending into reality? She did randomly while watching TV, one month ago, tell me that I would soon face a challenging obstacle in my life, which would feel suffocating and relieving at the same time. Mind running per hour, I shot up in a sitting position and gaped at nothing in particular, recalling the memory of said night. But my mother said nothing else as she went back to watching TV, acting as if what she had said to me was totally normal. It wasn’t. But I was used to her quirky antics, she was a bit whimsical, but I loved her. Her intentions were always good and pure, she was a woman full of love and warmth…unlike me. Perhaps I was like my father…not that I could remember him, he’s left us while I was a little girl. We kept in touch until I turned approximately eight, after that…he never showed his face again. Something about moving to a new city and starting a new life, I couldn’t care less, he was never a pilar of support in my life. I didn’t need a man to bring me comfort, to make me feel safe. I had myself for that, and my mother—when things got too rough to handle on my own.
With a sigh, I reached over my bed and grabbed my sketchbook from my bedside table and turned on the small lamp, grabbing the pencil I had from underneath my pillow. Not one corner of my room was safe from my drawing supplies. I flipped the sketchbook open to a blank page and sighed, eyebrows lightly furrowing as I pressed the pencil against the soft paper. I didn’t have anything particular in mind as I started drawing. Maybe a small meadow with colorful flowers or a flower field, those sounded nice right now. It felt like they could fix my sour mood after today, like they would bring a little comfort to my overthinking brain at the moment. But I already knew I couldn’t control my hand when it came to drawing, and I wasn’t too surprised to find myself drawing the outline of a face. The lines were sharp and precise, darker around the brow bone and defining at the sharp and pointy nose. I added shading to the jawline before moving to the cheekbones, not making them too harsh. The sketch so far was looking like any regular face. It could turn into anything from here on. I could make it anyone I wanted it to be. For some reason my hand went to draw the lips instead of the eyes, usually those were the first thing I drew when starting a portrait. But this time, my brain focused on the dark outline of the plump lips and adding more depth as the Cupid’s Bow was deep and pointy. I licked my lips as I allowed my eyes to run over the eyeless portrait, subconsciously adding a small mole to the left side of its face, close to the jawline. I had a hunch where this was going, but I wanted to keep going—I couldn’t stop my brain from pushing me to just draw more. I allowed my pencil to run over the lines of the nose, making them sharper, lengthening it just like the person had it in real life. My hand hovered in the air for a second, reluctant to finally draw the eyes of the portrait, but I didn’t have it in me to stop right now. I always hated leaving my work unfinished—that was my excuse right now too, despite knowing who I was drawing once again. Yet not one particle in my body wished to stop right now, and I couldn’t help it as I finally drew lines sharp enough to accentuate the depth and glare in his deep eyes. The shading of them happened quickly and without even thinking, the small but dark mole sat comfortably underneath his right eye as I pressed my pencil firmly against the paper.
The breath which left my lips was sharp, and I gulped as my grip tightened around my pencil. I knew what I was doing this time, yet I didn’t stop it. Why? Why did I allow myself to draw—Mingi. His sharp and expressionless face stared back at me and I didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t mocking me, he didn’t have any twinkle in his eyes, he was just…there. On my paper, in my favorite journal-like sketchbook. And my heart was beating faster the longer I was looking at it. My stomach was twisting in a foreign way and I felt like I needed air. Fresh air. It felt like my room was closing in on me, I felt like I didn’t have enough space all of a sudden. The blanket falling on my lap suddenly felt too warm, like it was burning my body up. Without a second thought, I threw the sketchbook off from my lap, together with the blanket, and sprung out of bed, racing towards my closet. I threw it open and grabbed the first thing which came into view, a grey oversized jumper, as I stepped out of my slippers and slipped my phone into the pocket of my grey sweatpants, headed for my closed door. My throat was squeezing itself and it was a little hard to breathe as I frantically moved down the stairs, desperate for fresh air at this point. The light was on in the kitchen and I realized it wasn’t even ten pm yet as my mother was tinkering around, listening to some jazz music. I must’ve been loud as I almost crashed into the wall, struggling to put on my sneakers.
“Honey?” I heard my mother’s voice coming from behind me as I turned to look at her. Her ginger hair was a mess as her curls stuck out in all directions, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Everything alright?”
I nodded, fearing what my voice would sound like as I quickly wore the jumper in my hands, “Are you going out? It’s a little late…”
I hummed, licking my lips nervously, hand reaching for the doorknob, “I won’t take long, I promise.”
“Call me if you need me.” My mother had an understanding look on her face, it made my lips tremble, “I’ll pick you up.”
“Didn’t you drink?” My voice was slightly shaking as my eyes went to the wine glass she was holding in her right hand. My mother glanced down at it as if she had forgotten about it and quickly pushed it behind herself.
“We could always ride my electric scooter; I haven’t used it in quite a while.” My mother giggled at her own suggestion and I couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle, the tightness in my throat lessening a little bit. How badly I wished to pour my heart out to her, to let my feelings finally loose, but I couldn’t. That would mean having to face what I was feeling. That would mean everything was real and not just made up by my useless brain.
“I’ll be home in an hour, don’t worry.” My mother just hummed as she watched me leave as I took my keys and closed the door carefully behind myself. The crisp air of the evening was a harsh wake-up call that I should’ve worn a jacket as well, but I didn’t have it in me to walk back inside my warm house. I couldn’t. I needed to walk. I needed to clear my mind. I had to get rid of this awful feeling in my chest. And so that’s just what I did, I walked. I took off towards nowhere particular as my feet carried me down the sidewalk, the streets illuminated by the lampposts, creating just enough light, but not too much. A few cars passed by then and now, the neighborhood relatively quiet at this hour of the evening. The cold air was biting at my cheeks and I buried my hands in my pockets, taking a deep breath before releasing it slowly. It felt nice as the cold air traveled through my throat, deep down into my lungs. It was refreshing, it was just what I needed. As I took a left turn, I left my neighborhood and realized I was headed towards the city center, more people on the road now as it was the main one. Groups of teenagers passed by me and I shivered at the sudden cold breeze. I looked around and watched as it picked up and blew the branches of the trees apart, more leaves falling to the ground, creating a blanket of orange and burgundy underneath our feet. The leaves crunched under my shoes and I felt myself smiling as I kicked into a smaller pile gathered up on the sidewalk by the wind, memories of my childhood fresh in my mind. My mother would always gather the leaves in our small backyard and then she’d take me outside and we’d play around for hours in the leaves, giggling and laughing as we’d pretend that I was a princess and she was the leaves monster trying to kidnap me from my kingdom. Despite my mother struggling at times, my childhood never lacked anything, and it was filled with many happy memories. Sometimes I wondered what changed that I turned into such a moody and sour person. There were remnants of my old self when I was with Seulgi or with my mother, but I was pretty bad at opening up to strangers, at letting others in…especially males. I couldn’t help but think they had other motives and were only waiting for the right time to fuck me over, to abandon me. My attention was brought to a couple as the girl screeched and ran past me, the boy chasing after her while holding something in his hands, giggling loudly and calling out her name. I couldn’t help but glance after them, the green monster back in my head, as the guy caught up with her and tackled her into a hug despite the girl’s loud complaints. I have realized, the guy was carrying dirt in his hands and the girl’s cheeks were already smudged with it, probably. My stomach clenched and it got harder to gulp as I tore my eyes off them, trying to take a deep breath, trying to push down the memories threatening to resurface.
But I couldn’t help it as Yunho made it to the forefront of my mind, our many dates stored away in a little treasure chest in my heart. We used to go on so many dates, Yunho loved trying out new things and visiting new places. Every second weekend he planned something new, he surprised me with something. I thought I was the luckiest girl on Earth. I thought I would never find anyone else who could love me and cherish me as much as Yunho—and perhaps I really never would. Because Yunho was special, because he made you feel like you were the only one in the whole world he could see, he could love. A small part of me still wished he loved me at some point. Of course, it did, I was so hopelessly in love with him once that everything was about him. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t live without him. He was the only thing I could think about, I could talk about. Everyone told us how well we matched; how perfect we were for each other. The both of us always smiling, always so nice to others. Before getting abandoned by Yunho, I was—I wasn’t like this. I smiled, I laughed, and I joked around a lot. I was happy and I loved life, I loved everything around me and I had this urge to discover everything life had to offer me. I couldn’t stay put in one place for too long and I always had everything planned out, each step of mine—my life next to Yunho. The promises he made were still fresh in my mind, I could still remember them despite being it a long time ago—but perhaps it wasn’t long enough, I have suddenly come to the realization of it. It was hard to breathe again as my favorite moment with Yunho was suddenly too fresh in my mind, too easy to recall. We had gone to a movie he really wished to watch, something about a girl who had to pretend she was a boy in order to make it onto the university’s football team to get revenge on her ex, it was actually a re-run as the movie had come out a long time ago, but Yunho loved it and he really wanted to watch it at the cinema. Of course I went with him, I wanted to see the movie too because Yunho loved it. And what Yunho loved, I also did. It was an easy watch, lighthearted and cheesy and predictable, it didn’t surprise me that it was one of Yunho’s favorites. But once the movie was over Yunho wanted to get ice cream, and as someone who loves ice cream—mint choco is the best flavor, fight me—I was eager to go with Yunho. But our peace of mind didn’t last for long as it started raining cats and dogs in no time, forcing us to take shelter somewhere—except that we didn’t. Yunho pulled me out into the pouring rain and he made us dance, he acted out cheesy scenes from Dirty Dancing, raising me up and flipping me around clumsily, almost dropping me in the process not even once, making me shriek and clutch onto him for dear life. I have never laughed more in my life than that night and I have never felt more loved that in that moment. Yunho’s eyes were shining with so much warmth and happiness, it was also the first time he said the words. ‘I love you.’ I couldn’t tell whether it was the rain or happy tears on my cheeks, but the sudden clenching of my heart and overwhelming feeling in my chest made me flung my body against his, holding onto Yunho’s tall frame like my life depended on it. And in that moment, I knew—I knew that I also loved him. But I couldn’t say it, not yet, not when everything felt like it was too much, so instead, I pressed my lips against his pouty ones and smiled as Yunho started giggling, only to pick me up and twirl me around in excitement before asking me to hop on his back, only for him to take off running towards his house. It was my favorite memory of us, for various reasons, but perhaps the main one was because Yunho was so sincere in that moment. Because I couldn’t hear any doubt in his words like the other times he said that he loved me.
『Straight coats and empty cabinets
Ashes from all the mess you left
New lease without you
I confess that I'm happy you're gone』
I came to a stop as my phone buzzed in my pocket, mind hazy as I tried to shake off the memory which felt so alive in my head. I could almost see it playing out in front of myself. If I reached my hand out, I could almost touch Yunho—but he wasn’t here—and I was allowing myself once again to live in the past, a very bad habit of mine. I unlocked my phone after I crossed the road, the sidewalk littered with various shops, most of them already closed as it was almost ten now. I had been walking for twenty minutes without even realizing it. Looking down at my phone, I realized Instagram had sent me a notification that Seulgi posted a story after a while. She was probably at Outlaw still, watching Noir Zenith perform. I pressed on her story and it opened to show a close-up video of the three boys performing, the camera focusing on Wooyoung for a few seconds longer before it was moved away, zooming in on playfully on Mingi. I had the volume down, I couldn’t hear what he was singing, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he was leaning forward, mouth moving in a fast way as his eyes were half-closed, veins protruding on his neck, expression almost like he was angry, almost like feelings were overwhelming him as he held the microphone in his left hand tightly. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, but I quickly pushed any thought of him away as I realized he was slightly…wet? His white shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned until they reached his chest stuck to his body and had turned almost see-through, but it didn’t seem like it bothered Mingi as he continued on performing. Heavy chains lay against the base of his throat and a blue sheer sunglass was sitting on his tall nose, almost sliding off of it as he was bobbing his head furiously to the music, his bass abandoned somewhere. As my eyes focused on the huge bracelet on his right hand and the blue and white scarf wrapped around his left wrist, both hands decorated with thick silver-colored rings, the video cut off. I remained unblinking for a second, eyebrows twitching as I realized Seulgi had posted the video not even half an hour ago. So…the band was still performing and…Mingi was looking like that. Suddenly I was glad I wasn’t there to witness him being all indecent and acting like a—something. I most certainly wouldn’t hear the endless praises if I were there and the constant screaming of his baboons—perhaps calling them his fangirls would sound nicer, but I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction—and with my current mood, that was the last thing I wanted to see and hear. Mingi was detestable and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of going to any of his other performances, finding them useless as I wasn’t even into their music. I started walking again, aware that the wind had picked up more, rustling the branches and leaves harsher, making me shiver in my underdressed state, reminding me that I should head home now. I said I wouldn’t stay out for too long, my thoughts seemed to have cleared just a little bit, besides, the cold air was enough to knock me out once I got to lay in my warm and comfortable bed.
『I don't care enough to miss you
After all the shit we've been through
My heart's comatose, comatose
I don't care enough to miss you
After all the shit we've been through
My heart's comatose, comatose』
However, the second I wanted to exit the app and put my phone away, a new story suddenly appeared in Seulgi’s spot and I gulped realizing who it was. Yunho’s happy and smiling face was taunting me in his profile picture, and before I could control myself, I pressed the icon, opening his story. The username Yuyu followed by a sunflower flashed for a second on the screen and then—and then everything around me stopped. There was no wind, there was no sound of cars passing by or people talking as they walked by me. It wasn’t cold anymore. My lungs failed me once again, but my mind went silent. Completely silent. There was a rumble in the distance, but I couldn’t say what it was. A girl, much smaller than him—and a lot cuter than myself—was laughing in the boomerang Yunho had posted, her black hair falling around her shoulders nicely, the white coat barely hiding the short lavender colored dress she was wearing. And Yunho—he looked so happy, he looked—whole. His face had gotten fuller, yet features sharper since the last time I had seen him. I have forgotten that I was still following him on Instagram. He had his arm around the girl’s shoulder and was actively pulling her into his side as he was smiling brightly too, his protruding front teeth showing as he had his eyes on the girl only. He had tagged her too and I was clicking on her name fast, before even thinking about what I was doing. Her profile was public and she had many posts. Most of herself, but there were some of the places she’s traveled to as well. But her most recent post—was with Yunho. The two sitting on a bench, then a selfie, and then a picture of the place they had been at, with the caption of: ‘Luckiest girl in the world!’ I gulped and closed the app, taking a deep breath, realizing that I had started shaking.
『You wasted all my fucking time
Were never really in my life
You were further than I could imagine
I love you, but fuck you』
Why did my legs feel like jelly all of a sudden? Why did the heaviness in my chest get even worse? Why was I reacting like this? It made no sense. Yunho broke up with me three years ago and I was over him. He hurt me more than anyone has before, but I was over him. I have let go; I have released the feelings I have felt for him. But then why did it bother me so much that he found happiness with someone else? Why did it leave a bitter taste in my mouth? Suddenly why was the green monster back and making me clutch my phone tightly in my hand? If he was able to find someone, to be happy again, why wasn’t I doing the same thing? Why was I incapable of loving? Of being loved? Of opening up and letting in new people? Why was I forcing myself to wallow in my own misery? Why was I punishing myself by constantly living in the past? What more could I want? Why did I still wish for Yunho to return and apologize for everything he’s done, for the gap he’s left in my heart? For the turmoil he’s caused in my head, for the ache that never really went away with his departure from my life? And it hit me lick a wall of bricks, that something was hitting my flaming cheeks. Another rumble, and I realized it was thunder. Head tilting back, I realized it was raining—pouring. Washing away the tears which were making my eyes burn. When did it start raining? Why did everything hurt so much? I couldn’t help the sudden sob which wracked my body as I put my phone in my pocket as a futile attempt to keep it dry as my clothes were getting drenched the longer I stood unmoving on the sidewalk. But my feet felt heavy, rendering me frozen to the spot. Nobody was outside anymore. I was alone. Just as always. No matter how many people cared for me, I was still alone in hurting, in dealing with the mess I was. And it hurt. It made me cry harder as I pressed a hand against my mouth, trying to muffle my pathetic sobs. But it felt good—so good to finally let it all out, to just finally allow the misery to come to the surface, to acknowledge that I couldn’t deal with these feelings anymore. My chest hurt, my heart ached, my throat was getting more and more restricting, lungs burning for air, but I couldn’t fully breathe, gasping for air caused by my violent sobs. But the wind was picking up again and my body started shivering, and I realized I couldn’t stand on the sidewalk anymore bawling my eyes out as I got drenched in rain.
So, I looked around and found a place open not too far up ahead and took off running towards it, trying to get the strands of hair out of my eyes as they stuck to my skin. The diner was small and still open, the big windows showed nobody inside besides the girl behind the counter. I didn’t consider the way I looked as I threw the door open and stepped inside, alerting the girl as the doorbell chimed. She looked up and for a second we stared at each other, her eyes widening as her eyes wandered all over my body, making me sniff. At least I wasn’t sobbing anymore, just heaving for air. I must’ve looked horrible as I took off towards a table in the back, closer to the restrooms, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel embarrassed over my appearance. I fell against the cushion of the bench and tried to regulate my breathing, biting my lower lip as I realized my eyes were burning and my skin was ice cold. I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to stand out in the rain, when it was so cold. I would most definitely catch a cold now and that was the last thing I needed right now, but it was due to my own stupidity. I wiped my face with my hands, which were slightly shaking, as the girl from the counter came over.
“Uh,” She shuffled around awkwardly as I looked at her, “Can I bring you anything? Or uh, help with anything?”
A slap in the face to wake me up to reality would possibly be the biggest help she could be offering right now—but I thankfully didn’t say to her. She already looked uncomfortable by not knowing how to react to my current state. I sniffed and went to reach for my wallet before I would look at the menu, I had no idea how much money I had on me. But I quickly realized I had only grabbed my phone before leaving, sitting inside a diner never being in the plan. So instead I went to check on my phone if I had any money on my card, but my phone wasn’t working. Nothing. No matter how much I pressed the button to start it, it didn’t work. Fuck, I forgot to charge it before stepping outside.
“Uh,” Now I felt embarrassed as I averted my eyes from the girl, “I don’t have any money.”
“Oh,” She sounded surprised, “Well, then…I mean, I don’t want to sound rude, but uh—I will have to ask you to leave, really, I have nothing against you, it’s just that—”
“Don’t worry,” I forced myself to smile as I looked up at her, her cheeks red from embarrassment of having to kick me out, “I get it. May I use the restroom before I leave?”
“Sure, of course!” The girl almost exclaimed as she pointed towards the little hallway which led to the restrooms, “But we’ll be closing in about fifteen minutes, so don’t stay inside for too long.”
“Yeah, I’ll just patch myself up a bit and then go on my way.” I muttered as the girl nodded silently and walked back to the counter while carefully watching me, making me roll my eyes. Okay, I might have been looking like a mess, but I wasn’t a walking bomb—no need for her careful gaze on me. It just made my blood boil as I tried not to stomp while I went inside the restroom, glad that I was alone inside. It was colder in here compared to the diner and I shivered as I realized the window was open. I headed towards the sink, eager to warm up my hands with a little warm water, but I gasped once I saw my reflections in the mirror. Jesus Christ, I looked horrible, no wonder the girl was looking at me like that and asking me to leave—even if the reason was me not having money on me. My hair stuck to my face and looked matted in certain spots. My cheeks were completely flushed with the tip of my nose red as well, and I had dark streaks running down underneath my eyes. I forgot to take off my eyeliner and mascara before going to bed and since they weren’t waterproof—here I was, looking like a character straight out of a fucking horror movie. I chuckled as I turned on the faucet and instantly sighed at the feeling of warm water against my hands, warming my freezing limbs a bit. I quickly gathered water in my palms and splashed it against my cheeks, warming them up as well, sighing in content. I was still shivering, my toes frozen, but this was helping.
『I don't care enough to miss you
After all the shit we've been through
My heart's comatose, comatose』
I let the warm water run as I ran my fingers through my hair, easing the knots in them and trying to make it look presentable as I basically brushed the wet strands back on my head, my hair already curling naturally. The next step was to get rid of the mascara and eyeliner streaks underneath my eyes and even cheek, so I quickly washed them off before turning the faucet off and grabbing some dry towel paper from the holder, drying off my face and hands. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, realizing that my chest felt so much lighter, there was nothing squeezing against my throat anymore.
“You’re fine,” I whispered to myself, gulping, “Fuck, you’ve got this, you’re okay, Y/N, you are okay. You’ve been pushing your feelings away for too long, of course they blew up in your face, you stupid bitch. I really have to stop doing this to myself, ugh—”
I rolled my eyes as I threw the used towel paper in the trash bin and then looked back at myself in the mirror, narrowing my eyes at myself and pointing a finger threateningly at my reflection, “Stop being a sappy bitch, alright? You’re better than this. Yunho’s got his shit together, why can’t you do the same, huh? Just go out there and find a fucking boyfriend, it’s not that hard—wait, no, actually don’t do that! I don’t need no man, got it? Got it.”
I nodded once firmly, a small grin forcing itself onto my lips, making me scoff at myself—sure, of course, bring Yunho into your peptalk, Y/N, very smart—but I just couldn’t help it. At least I was feeling better now, almost laughing at myself at how stupid I was as I stepped back and pulled my shoulders back, nodding at myself encouragingly. I got this! But now I had to run home in the pouring rain, that thought alone was enough to make me cry again, but I willed myself to stop. No more crying. No more sobbing—especially not because of the pouring rain. It was my mistake that I didn’t check the weather or bring an umbrella. I should’ve just gone to bed when I planned to, damn these stupid thoughts. With a last glance at myself, I decided that I was ready to leave the restroom and head home, my mother probably worried sick about me at this point since my phone wasn’t working either. I walked up to the door and grabbed the doorknob firmly, yanking it open a little bit too enthusiastically, but as I went to step outside, the male’s restroom door right across mine opened as well—and I paused, surprised.
Song Mingi was staring back at me just as surprised as I was.
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❱❱ Next chapter
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somethingvicked · 2 months
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True love of mine part 12
warnings: female reader, angry fans, harrassment, angst, fluff, Eddie being a sweetheart
Chapter 11.
Now
Y/N
The next day was a work day for you, but you had stayed with Eddie for the night. It felt like you couldn’t be without him more than necessary after being apart for so many years.
He had held you close, seemingly not wanting to let you go this morning and you knew exactly how he felt. “I… I can come pick you up after work,” he suggested. “I’ll take a car, be more subtle.”
You frowned. “Why? Are you… you bothered by being seen with me?”
Eddie gave you a look. “You should know me better than that, Y/N. No, I just don’t want it to get out just yet… you don’t know… being famous like I am has its downsides too. Among them that my privacy is invaded constantly. As soon as I’m seen with a woman, regardless if it’s someone I work with or my hairdresser, the gossip tabloids wonder whether I’m screwing her or dating her, or both. While my fans… well, while they love me they hate anyone that might get too close to me and ruin the dream they have that they will some day be that person.”
You nodded, seeing the point he tried to make.
“Alright, I suppose that makes sense. But… we won’t have to hide this forever, do we?”
Eddie shook his head. “No, of course not. I don’t want us to hide it at all. Just that we are a bit discreet in the beginning. I lost you for so many years, I’m not ready to share you with the whole world yet.”
You laughed. “I feel like I already am sharing you with the world. But yes. This – us… we’ll stay at it just being ‘us’ for a little while longer, enjoy it.”
You took your coat and then frowned. “By the way, Eddie… what are we now?”
Eddie raised an eyebrow at you. “Nothing has changed for me, kitten. I think ‘dating’ isn’t enough of a word for what we are. But let’s just say we’re in a relationship for now. Until...”
Eddie quieted then and your heart skipped a beat. But you didn’t want to force it out of him.
“That’s good. For now,” you said and saw his head snap up, kind of like your reaction earlier, his eyes lightning up.
“For now,” he repeated and then hugged you again before you stepped outside.
You had barely stepped outside though when there was a message from one of your co-workers, telling you to check out the latest article among the gossip pages.
You gasped as you did. There were photos of you and Eddie outside the club he had played at the other night, and you getting on his motorcycle. The headline read “Munson’s mystery ‘true love’?”
Somehow they had dug up all the information about you, where you worked, where you lived, even your Instagram account – although that was private so they hadn’t been able to tag you.
It didn’t stop there, though. There were more than a hundred comments, most of them from other women or young girls:
“Who’s she?”
“She’s ugly.”
“What?! How dare she take my man!”
“Eddie deserves so much better!”
“She’s old! Why would he want her when he can have someone young and hot?!”
“He’s so out of her league. She should crawl back into her hole and let him go.”
“Go kill yourself, whore.”
“I bet she’s a gold digger.”
“Bitch. I hope she dies.”
And so on and on.
You felt sick. In that same moment Eddie called you and you answered, your voice trembling.
“By your tone I assume you’ve seen? Greg just told me. I’m so sorry, kitten.”
“I…” you started but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to care about what they say and some of the comments didn’t bother you – that they called you ugly and old, that was expected when some of his fans were barely eighteen. It was the blind rage and hatred that had affected you.
Who the hell wished that someone they didn’t even know would kill themselves? It was horrible!
“Kitten?” Eddie said and you took a deep breath.
“Yes?”
“Look, I don’t think you should go to work today. They clearly know where you work, there’s a good chance that the paparazzis try to crowd you there. Or, that some crazy fans stalk your there. Come back up and I’ll call Greg over to see how we should handle this.”
“Alright,” you said, walking back to the building you had just left.
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“Jesus, what are we going to do?” you mumbled, clutching a cup of tea in your hands.
“I don’t know, kitten,” Eddie said. “The thing is, it’s out now. But there’s a possibility it will die down if we ignore it. They say there’s no smoke without fire but if we turn that around and there’s no more fire, then they will eventually move on to the next scandal.”
You raised an eyebrow. “This is a scandal?”
Eddie shook his head. “No, of course not, but you know what I mean.”
“Well… how are we going to prove there’s no fire then?” you wondered, “there is a fire, we are together after all! And we’ve been together before – if someone goes digging enough, they will easily find proof of that.”
“Yes, I know that,” Eddie said, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s a possibility it will all die down if we aren’t seen together for a while. Then they will just assume it was a one time thing and…”
You jerked, looking at him with wide eyes. “What?! You want to… are you suggesting we break up again?!”
Eddie looked both horrified and offended at the same time. “What? No, of course not! I just meant that we shouldn’t be seen together publicly, so that it will…”
“Well, that’s the same thing, by omission,” you all but yelled. “You say you will never let me go after all that’s happened, but what is this? One little ‘scandal’ as you so eloquently put it, and you’re ready to bail?!”
Eddie’s face paled even more. “Y/N, I’m trying to protect you! Did you see what they wrote about you this morning?! You really think that will go away? Because I can tell you right now, it won’t. I’m so glad of what I have accomplished and I’m grateful to all of my fans, but… at the same time, it’s as much a curse as a blessing. I’ve had women and men following me to hotels, crowd me outside restaurants, getting up on stage to try and touch me and refusing to let go until security forced them away! I’m used to it by now. But you’re not. And they will go after you even worse, because I haven’t showed interest in anyone for so long, and suddenly, here you are.”
You realized what he was trying to say and wiped the tears away. “I don’t care,” you said with a small voice. “You left me once. I understand why you did it but I won’t go through that again, Eddie, regardless of whether it’s fake or not. Don’t you understand how humiliating this is? Not because of your fans but because I have to be your dirty little secret. Well, I won’t.”
You walked toward the door and looked back, seeing Eddie actually panicking.
“Kitten, please don’t go!”
“I have to,” you said, turning to look at him. You loved him. You loved him more than anything else in the world, but because you did, he had the power to hurt you more than anyone else, even if he didn’t mean to.
“Eddie, look. Maybe we jumped into this too quickly. You’re clearly used to do everything alone, making every decision on your own. But you did that fifteen years ago and it broke us. And now you want to do it again, regardless of what I want. I won’t be your dirty little secret, or your mistress, coming and going through secrets passages or in different disguises every time. I don’t know much about how it is living in the spotlight with fans that could turn around and wish you dead within the span of two seconds. But I would be willing to, if you were there with me. Yet you didn’t even consider that, did you? I think you need to think long and hard on what you actually want from me and what you are willing to do. Until then I guess I’ll do just what you wanted me to. Pretend like this was just a one time thing.”
You were angry. You knew you would regret those harsh words sooner rather than later but right now you couldn’t find it in you to care.
The old story about how Eddie had decided to leave without even trying to talk to you or anyone of his friends, or Wayne before – and after that, shut you out when he finally reached out to Wayne again – still stung inside you even though you understood why he had done it. But the fact that he once again did it… it was just too much. It couldn’t go on if you were to be together again.
You opened the door and then turned around and raised your hand. “Don’t follow me. I want to be alone.”
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A few hours later you were sitting on your couch with a coffee cup and reading a book. You didn’t want to use your phone or watch TV, fearing to be reminded of the new mess you’d found yourself in.
You missed Eddie already, but you were still upset with him.
Or were you the one in the wrong? You couldn’t exactly expect that Eddie would be the same as when you were teenagers, right?
But that wasn’t what you wanted. Of course you missed those days, when things were so easy and uncomplicated. It wasn’t what you expected now though – you just wanted to be with Edde.
But you wanted to actually be with him. Not in secret or some fake pretend.
You weren’t worried any more about him wanting someone else, a younger fan or some model that would throw themselves at him. If he had been more celibate than you during these years because he missed you, that said something.
And at the same time, if he ignored this, pretending like it was nothing, didn’t that send a message too? That it was nothing. You were nothing.
You sighed and wiped your eyes, refusing to cry over this when there was a knock on the door.
You got up from the couch and went into the hallway to open the door.
Outside stood Eddie. He looked upset.
“What’s wrong?” you wondered, and Eddie stepped inside, holding his phone up to you. It was a picture of the outside of your building. The gate to the building was locked, you needed a code to enter and right now you were deeply grateful for that because Eddie’s pictures showed the front wall of your building, and the word ‘whore’ sprayed in angry red letters. You gasped.
“This is what I meant, kitten,” Eddie sighed, running his hands through his hair. “You’re the one they will be coming after. But I also realized you were right. You’re more than some mistress and I refuse to let this happen to you without doing something. So… I did. I hope you won’t get angry with me for not asking you – again – but… well, you can see for yourself.”
He gave you his phone. It was all over social media and the gossip pages. Eddie had made a statement about the pictures taken, confirmed that you were his girlfriend, that he had known you from before he became famous and that the song he had written was indeed about you and you two reconnecting. He had also said that he asked his fans to be kind to you, because he loved you and needed you in his life and if they supported him, they should support you, because you made him happy.
There were still some angry comments, some claiming that the timing of you coming back into his life when he’s at the height of his career seemed rather suspicious.
You didn’t care about that, though, because they didn’t know the whole story. Let them draw their wrongful conclusions.
Eddie was watching you, waiting for a reaction. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” you whispered. “That’s all I wanted. You to acknowledge me as someone you love.”
“You’re more than that, kitten,” Eddie said. “You’re my forever and a day, remember? My first and last. Always.”
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Then,
Hawkins, 1984
Eddie
Eddie hadn’t given the meeting with Deborah Wallace any more thought until Y/N came to him one afternoon, very distraught even though she tried to appear calm.
It was after gym class and apparently Deboarah had humiliated Y/N in front of the whole locker room, saying that Eddie had practically begged her to fuck him, and he would give away the weed to her for free, that she, Deborah had asked if he didn’t have a girlfriend and that Eddie had replied that Y/N was boring as hell in bed, that he might as well do it himself – at least then it would be done thoroughly, unlike when Y/N did it.
Deborah had finished with how she had jerked Eddie off and that Eddie had said that just her hand was better than Y/N’s pussy.
Eddie had never gotten so angry in his entire life. For the first time ever he seriously thought about harming another person, regardless of whether she was a girl or not. He wanted to slam Deborah’s stupid face into the lockers, making nosebleed spurt from that pretty nose that she had to stick everywhere.
But he would never do that and he had more pressing matters to take care of.
“Oh, kitten,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around Y/N. “She’s lying. I promise you, it’s all lies. She came on to me last time when she bought from me, saying that perhaps we could make a deal. I told her no, that I had a girlfriend and I loved you, and she said you wouldn’t have to know. I told her I was done dealing with her, because she disrespected you. I promise you, kitten. I would never do  that to you. I love you. Only you.” He looked into Y/N’s eyes, begging her to believe him.
It seemed she was struggling, like she wanted to believe him but something else bugged her.
 “Why didn’t you tell me she did that, then?” Y/N asked, wiping her eyes. “It feels like you tried to hide it from me.”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you,” Eddie said, realizing that that had come back to bite him in the ass, “and since I told her to find another dealer, that it would be the end of it. I clearly underestimated her level of bitchiness.”
Y/N snorted. “You don’t… you don’t want to be with her, Eddie? She’s like… the hottest girl in school. All the guys wants to either hook up with her or be in a relationship with her, even if they have girlfriends.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t want to be with her. I’ve never have, kitten. She’s rotten to the core, she’s talking shit about everyone, even her closest friends. How could anyone want to be with someone like that? And why would I, when I have the best girl ever by my side already?”
Y/N finally smiled and let him hug her. “Really? So… even if they offer you wouldn’t pick a cheerleader over me?”
“Not even if Miss Universe herself showed up and told me to pick,” Eddie promised her, kissing her forehead. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’d be more than stupid to fuck that up. I’ve neve claimed to be particularly bright, but I’m not that dumb.”
“You’re not dumb at all,” Y/N said, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.
That being said, Eddie wouldn’t let Deborah Wallace get away with trying to split him and Y/N up or humiliate Y/N like that. The next day the principal called Deborah to his office through the school speakers. An anonymous tip had come in that Deborah hid a large amount of weed and alcohol in her locker – enough for the school to suspend her for a month and call chief Hopper to take her to jail until her parents came to bail her out.
A woman scorned is a dangerous thing, but love conquers all.
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hihelloheyhowdy · 1 year
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They Don't Know About the "I Love You"s (Nagi x reader)
In which pro athlete!Nagi is discovered to be in a relationship with you, and refuses to deny it.
Nagi's publicist always told him what to do, who to talk to, and how to act. He felt like aside from constantly having to keep up with his 'genius' soccer plays, he also had to keep an act that'll allow him his career.
Football had become one of the very few things that brought him passion, and the ability to make a more than steady income from something he enjoyed. However he found himself hating being in the spot light.
One thing that he looked forward to was coming home to you at the end of the day, and sitting there as you ran your hand through his hair whispering a 'you did good today' or 'I'm proud of you'. It was moments like those where he felt himself keeping pushing forward despite becoming tired of it all.
When Reo's on his ass about practice, when everyone is complaining about how his goals were no longer as 'genius' as they should be, when the crowd seems to find him not entertaining enough, it all fades to nothing in your presence.
Because you're the only one who never wants anything from Nagi. All you've ever asked for in exchange for all your understanding and affection, is that in return. The most beautiful part about it, is that loving you came easy to Nagi.
He was willing to put in 'work', but he rarely felt that it made him tired. In fact every moment spent with you feels like tons of weights have been lifted off of him. You know Nagi, and you've seen him at his worst yet you still found it in you to love him.
So he couldn't stand there, and let you simply take the pressure that the public suddenly threw at you. An article came out of the two of you on a picnic date in the park. It was titled 'Star Footballer Nagi Seishiro Not As Single As He Lets On?"
It sickened him to his stomach when he saw people saying that you weren't 'attractive enough', or seemed to not be 'good enough' to be dating him according to their standards.
It couldn't be further from the truth. In Nagi's eyes you were gorgeous, and if anything he didn't deserve you. Always putting up with him when he was unmotivated, or snapped at you for no reason at all.
When you'd seen the article didn't think anything of it, but people quickly were able to identify you. Millions of dms and commented flooded in, and not all of them were sweet. You tried to ignore them, but with so many it was hard until you went on private.
The next morning you'd woken to having been tagged in a post made by Nagi last night a million times. It was a photo from that picnic date, one where he was kissing your cheek. There was a caption under it, and it read 'more than perfect for me, i love you'.
You felt your heart swell as you smiled as you looked down to the Nagi sleeping soundly next to you. You ran a hand softly through his hair as he seemed to lean into your touch. You whisper out a small 'I love you' into the air, even though he couldn't hear.
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bartxnhood · 1 year
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sorry’s never enough | c.h
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calum hood x fem!reader
summary: you’re betrayed again by your boyfriend, who just can’t seem to keep his promise
warnings: angst, no happy ending, kinda toxic relationship, arguing (it’s a short one)
a/n: surprise ! this is kinda weird for me to post randomly and not tell anyone but i this randomly hit me. also i feel like i should note, i know i’ve written many fics of this scenario and it seems to be a common theme with calum fics but this in no way shape or form represents calum hood as a person. this is strictly fiction and written for entertainment purposes. thank you.
not proofread
requests open
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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you should’ve expected it, from the moment he stepped out the door and got on that plane. you should’ve known better.
he was going to do it, it was only a matter of time before the evidence got back to you. it was just a waiting game for you. would he keep his promise?
no. he doesn’t care.
that morning you woke up, like usual, nothing was out of the ordinary. you got out of bed, made it, and took duke outside to do his business. everything was going normally. until it wasn’t.
you finished breakfast, put away the dirty dishes, and decided to take a scroll on your phone. your boyfriend's tour was coming to an end and it had been one beautiful tour. he seemed to be having the time of his life, and he was even happier it seemed. and it made you feel better about your relationship. you thought, for just a second, that maybe, just maybe, he kept his word.
but when you got the notification from sierra your heart sank. the pictures and the videos of calum at a bar with another girl. his arm slung around her waist as he kisses her, his hand on her jaw. it made you feel sick to your stomach, looking at the photos. sierras message ended with ‘im sorry, hun.’ you felt the tears swelling in your eyes and the aching in your chest had returned.
how could he do this to you?
“hey babe” calum enters the house, walks to you and presses a kiss on your cheek. he noticed you didn’t acknowledge him, so as he was setting his bags down he turned to you. “is everything okay?” you laid your phone down on the counter and slid it over to him. “i don’t know, is it?” you asked, your voice stung like venom. calum looks down at the phone which revealed an article that read: “calum hood spotted with mystery girl at a london nightclub. what happened with his girlfriend? or now, ex-girlfriend’
you saw his expression sour, pushing the phone back towards you. “so?” you asked again. he had no answer, and you saw the gears turning in his head trying to come up with another excuse. “i’m sorry.”
that’s all he had to say? after everything? everything you’ve done for him. all the sacrifices you made just to be with him. that’s all? "don't apologize if you are just going to keep doing this shit, apologize when you're actually going to change because im tired of having my hopes crushed every time" you were livid, your chest burned with anger. even looking at him made your feel sick. calum tan his fingers through his hair, huffing quietly. “if you would ever go on tour with us, this would never happen.” "oh, so i'm the one at fault?" "that's not what i'm saying-" "well, it jolly well sure sounds like it!"
“I don't want to do this with you." "that's what you always say whenever I'm trying to talk some sense into you." you rubbed your temples. talking was him wasn’t always this hard, in the beginning, he was the most caring person but as time went on he grew distant. “i’ve given you my life, calum. i made sacrifices for us to be together. i dropped everything just to be with you, you choose to do this to me? after everything?”
you heard a groan come from his side followed by yet another huff. this wasn’t the first time calum had cheated on you, and you should’ve known it wouldn’t be the last time either but you chose to talk it out and overcome the pain and suffering. you thought it had worked, but obviously, it didn’t. “i never asked you to do anything of that either, y/n. you chose to put your life on hold because of me. i didn’t”
“and you never stopped me!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air. “what do you want from me, calum? am i not good enough for you anymore? what am i doing wrong, please just tell me!” by this point, you were starting to break. tears welled in your eyes and your face flushed red. “it isn’t you.” he stated matter-a-factly. you couldn’t help but laugh at his response. “it isn’t me?” you repeated, and once again pushed your phone towards him. “the evidence proves otherwise cal.”
calum knew he was hurting you, he knew he put you through hell and back and that you didn’t deserve it. there was no excuse for what he did to you, he just never wanted to face the truth. “you never change do you, calum? you never fucking change.” you snatched your phone away from the counter, and looked at him one last time. “i’ve had enough, calum. i’m done. i can’t believe i loved you” you pointed in his face, and maybe it came out harsher than expected but at that point, you were so tired.
his eyes shot up at the word ‘loved’ it made his heart stop. surely he heard that wrong, right? “loved?” he asked, following you into the hallway where you were heading but you didn’t respond. you entered the shared bedroom “i’ve been pretending to love you for a long time, calum.” he saw the bags sitting atop the bed. two duffel bags and a large suitcase, “what do you mean?”
a dry chuckle left your throat, “i mean, i’ve been faking it since the first time you done this, i thought for a while that you had changed but obviously you didn’t. and frankly i’m tired of waiting time hoping you’d come around.” you grab a few of the bags ready to head out the door as your friend had texted you that she was on her way. “calum, i did love you. i loved you for years, and maybe we were meant to be together but i can trust you when you go out and get with these other girls. i’m sorry”. you pressed the softest kiss on his cheek.
“don’t come looking for me, just focus on yourself, calum.”
you saw the tears in his eyes, he was guilty and regretful for what he has done to you. “i’m sorry.” you nod, “i know you are.”
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Events In The History And The Life Of Elvis Presley Today On The 22nd Of June In 1974.
Elvis Presley In Providence Ri Evening Show On June The 22nd In 1974.
Two Elvis Presley Fans From Providence Ri there true Experience being At the Elvis Presley's Two Shows On June The 22nd In 1974.
News of an Elvis Presley's concerts in Providence, R. I. first broke in late April when there was a small mention of it in one Boston paper. It was such a small article that many people nearly missed it and we had to be told about it by a friend who reads the paper more thoroughly than we do. We immediately rushed out that same night to put our ticket order in the mail hoping an early Postmark would get us better seats... but things don't always work out that way., do they? The Civic Center was so swamped with mail orders they not only were forced to dis-regard postmarks, but they didn't mail out tickets as soon as they'd promised. When our tickets finally came, they were upper balcony, quite a ways back from the stage. But we were able to borrow binoculars, so all was not lost. 
It had been two years since we saw Elvis Presley at Madison Square Garden,. and we were really looking forward to seeing him again. We wanted to try meeting his plane, so we went to the airport early the morning of June 22. While waiting around, we were approached by a man who offered to take us up for a ride in his plane. Feeling adventurous, we went up for an aerial tour of Rhode Island. Our guide, Ted Hopkins, was kind enough to radio in and ask if Elvis Presley had landed yet. Held come in a 2:00 a. m., so we went on to the Civic Center. 
We saw both the 2:30pm matinee and the 8:30pm evening show. This review is of the 8:30 show, although both shows were basically the same. 
Elvis Presley came running out on stage in a white jumpsuit with a blue "rainbow" swirled around his body and down his leg. He didn't wear a cape for either show. He went into " C. C. Rider, " obviously in a great mood, doing a spirited " one.. two.. three.. four " followed by a corresponding number of thrusts of a leg. Then he did " I Got A Woman " combined with ''Amen, " giving special recognition to J. D. Sumner Is deep voice. This was followed by " Love Me " and " Trying To Get To You " ( in which he says, " I've been travelling night and day, I've been streaking all the way... " which the crowd just loved ). Next came "All Shook Up, " " Love Me Tender, " " Hound Dog, " and " Fever. " He did a great version of " Polk Salad Annie, " which was really loved by the crowd. When he finished " Why Me Lord, " the reaction was so good, he repeated the chorus once again. 
Linda Thompson was at both shows, coming out just before Elvis Presley and sitting up front, to the side of the stage. When Elvis Presley did "Suspicious Minds, " instead of doing the line "I never lied to you. . . no, not much, " he left out the "not much" and looked in Linda's direction. 
Next, he paused long enough to introduce the band. At the matinee he introduced John Wilkinson as being from Providence and at the evening show he introduced Charlie Hodge as being from Pawtucket... both times he had a mischievous grin on his face and you could tell he was putting everyone on, but the crowd really loved it. 
" Know what I can't do? "... " I Can't Stop Loving You, " and with those words, he launched into a beautiful version of the song. Then he mentioned having a record out entitled " Help Me " and " If You Talk In Your Sleep " and said they'd like to do " Help. Me. " This song has so much more impact when you hear it live than it does on record- -fantastic. 
During "American Trilogy, " he clowns slightly when he sings ". . look away Disney... dixieland. 
Something fairly new for Elvis Presley is " Let Me Be There. " As he's done before, he can take someone's hit song and make it his own, putting such vitality and life into it. This song was a great new treat and we hope he'll continue to do it. 
After having the house lights turned up so he could look at the audience, he sings " Funny How Time Slips Away " (Steve says to me thank God for, Elvis Presley). At the matinee he sang... " Never know when I'll be back in town... 8:30 tonight. " 
Something different for a live concert was " Big Boss Man, " which he did marvelously. One older man down in front of us kept calling out " Teddy Bear " all during the show, and we were so happy for him when Elvis Presley did a " Teddy Bear " / " Don't Be Cruel " medley. 
Naturally, the saddest part of any concert is the beginning of " Can't Help Falling In Love, " and this was no exception. Elvis Presley had put on such a fantastic show, had been in such a great mood, and looked so darned handsome, we all hated to see this song come. But he gave the crowd a beautiful surprise by not rushing off the stage at the close of the song, but spending some time shaking hands around the edge of the stage. 
Time had stood still for an hour, but suddenly it was all over and the clock started up again. We met many fans outside afterwards and everyone agreed that it had been a magnificent concert; one we will long remember. Thank you, Elvis Presley for such a beautiful gift.
Rare Unseen Till Now! The Two Fans Private Live In Action! Candid Photo's Here Of Elvis Presley Taken At This Show Venue.
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mrs-theirin · 8 days
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quilllllll! hi, hello, i simply had to let you know that i've been slowly but surely re-re-rereading the road, the hidden truth, and you, and first of all, gorgeous, beautiful, touching, magnificent, imagine a rainstorm of chefs kisses raining down uponst you <3 but i got curious and had to ask...are there any cut scenes/fun facts/behind the scenes special features you might want to share with the class? 🥺 hehehe i just know /i/ always end up having a bunch of stuff like that once a project's done, and i'd LOVE to hear any juicy tidbits you've got!!! :P (either way, had to remind you how gorgeous this - AND ALL YOUR OTHER WRITING - is!)
we are somehow on the same wavelength as i was rereading it myself when i got this ask.....i'm onto you queenie......
all jokes aside THANK YOU i am always blown away when you compliment my writing, truthfully, it means the absolute world to me and i'm glad you enjoy what i put out. from the bottom of my heart, your support is greatly, greatly appreciated
that being said. well. as far as fun facts go. one fun fact is that this was barely my idea. that's well known at this point i think but you can thank @merrybandofmurderers for originally giving me the idea of a fake dating, roadtrip au. second fun fact is that i winged the HELL out of this fic. 19 years old staying up (apparently, since i checked the outline???) till 5 in the morning trying to get it done. winged the hell out of it. i had a broad idea, but i built the chapters based off of da2 quest names. so like. i had almost nothing planned. i took a da2 quest title i liked and built a modern au plot around it. great idea i think. poor execution LMFAO
no cut scenes or anything due to the rushed and unorganized nature of the original draft. there are things that i cut from the original in my rewrite, but that's because i felt like they weren't serving a real purpose. i also was super excited to change it so it was modern au but with elves and kirkwall and all that stuff. does it make sense orzammar is in new york? no. do i care? also no
i have been intending to write a follow up ever since the ORIGINAL story, but it just hasn't felt right yet. i know i want to do it. and i really hope i will do it. but for now it will stay in my drafts, lovingly titled "trthtay superbowl follow up". between that and the eden/varric wedding at skyhold fic, we could place a bet on which one gets finished first! (psst, it's probably the wedding fic. i've written more for that. unrelated but maybe expect that? soon? ish? don't hold me to that)
anyway, i'd say the biggest thing is that trthtay was my "i can do better" fic, truthfully. i was STUNNED when it got on a screenrant article (before it was even finished too?), i mean, i still have my section printed out in my dresser. it was exciting. but to see so many eyes on something i didn't think was of the quality i'd like it to be was stressful. i wanted to be great. i wanted the thing that so many people saw from me to be groundbreaking. and i really didn't feel like it hit that mark. i don't even think the rewrite hits that mark! there are things that i've written that i feel are better than both. but, there's a bright side to everything, and that's that even what i would consider one of my worse fics was loved. it was loved. it was enjoyed. not only by the author of that article (david caballero, there's nowhere i can message you on that site, but if you ever see this, thank you so so much) but by everyone who decided to click the link and give it a try. by YOU, one of my biggest inspirations and someone whose writing i aspire to match someday. i cannot thank you enough (you, personally, queenie, and you, plural, anyone who's read my writing) for giving me a chance and pushing me to be better
so. anyway. i'm sure you didn't expect your question to get an emotional response, but i think any conversation about trthtay comes back to that. to hope. to gratitude. it truthfully blows my mind that you love it the way you do. thank you thank you thank you. i'm glad i have you in my corner :)
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Winter, 2019 - San Diego, California
Chapter 4 of You Are My Soulmate
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader
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Description: It's been a week since the accident. A week since you collapsed, a week since you saw the man who could be your soulmate fall from the heavens in a jet he shouldn't have been in at all. And you can't help but blame yourself. The should haves, would haves and could haves crowd your brain until there isn't anything else in it. Until, that is, you wake up one morning to find what looks to be all of the journalists in San Diego parked out in your front lawn. That's when you discover that Hawk had given interviews across the city dragging your name through the mud. You can't even open your windows without them hounding you. So you trust your welfare to your best friends, your family. And pray that Bradley Bradshaw wakes up soon. If only because you're not sure how much of this you can take. Meanwhile, Rooster's in heaven. He's got his mom and dad nearby, he's never hungry, thirsty or tired, but as time passes, he can't help wondering about his soulmate. Is she alright? Is she safe? She's not hurting too badly because of his stupid actions, right? One chance vision from the universe shows him what he didn't know he needed. Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish. This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story. Warnings: Female!Reader Word Count: 3142 A/N: Here's Chapter 4 of YAMS! This is where the shit hits the fan, quite literally for Tinkerbell and Rooster! Hawk makes a second appearance, and if you all hated him when you first saw him, you haven't seen anything yet! As always, your reblogs and comments make me so happy! Feel free to drop me an ask if you want to chat about this chapter or any of my other works! AO3:Cross-posted Here! My Masterlist Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part
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Tinkerbell
You feel rather like you're walking around in a haze after the accident. You live so close to base and have so many friends that are Navy or affiliated with the Navy that it feels a lot like the entire world is talking about what happened. The rumors and wondering comments follow you around. You can't even walk into the commissary anymore without hearing some new theory about what happened.
Jake and Javy do their best to shield you from the speculation, but you can't hide from yourself. Your brain may be telling you that it wasn't your fault that Bradley crashed, but your heart, your soul, is telling you differently. Your actions resulted in your soulmate being in a hospital bed, unconscious and unknowing right now. You could have done something more to disable his jet. You could've had the maintenance crew remove the master ignition switch. You could've. You could've. You could've. It's eating you alive. Since you're on medical suspension for a month, you don't even have the distraction of work anymore.
You have one week of relative quiet. Then you wake up one morning to your phone blowing up. Everyone you know who has your phone number seems to be texting you the same link. You're half awake, sleep clouding your eyes even as you fumble for your ringing phone and answer the phone call.
It's an awfully insistent voice asking you why you put Bradley in the hospital. You ignore it and hang up. The words don't penetrate your sleepy brain until a few seconds later, when you jolt up from your comfy spot in bed. You've gotten over sixty unread messages and fourteen voicemails in the past three hours. Most of the voicemails are from Jake and when you open the first of the many articles in your inbox, it's an interview.
You're going to murder Lieutenant Junior Grade George Taylor, the cocky little shit soon to be formerly known as Hawk. He's spoken to what seems to be every news outlet in San Diego and given them a tell-all expose about how you're a nosy, jealous bitch who hated Lieutenant Bradshaw from the moment she saw him and wanted him gone.
No wonder your phone has been ringing off the hook. Everybody wants to stick their mics into your face and get the true story. How could you tell them it was your soulmate's fault when he isn't even awake to corroborate your story? You don't even know if he is your soulmate, for goodness's sake. Not definitively, at least. 
You can't even draw back your curtains, because when you try, you are nearly blinded by the entire troupe of reporters camping out on your front lawn. No wonder Jake sounds frantic when you finally pick up the phone when he calls next.
"Hey darling." He sounds worried, like he's been pacing back and forth on the hot tarmac for hours. "What happened? Are you okay? Did you see my messages?"
"I saw, Jake. I was asleep. If you forget, I'm on medical leave for the next three weeks." Your voice is weak as you burrow back under your sheets. "I saw your messages, Jake. I'm dreaming, right?"
"I wish you were, Tinky-tink." You can hear the pain in Jake's voice as a tear drips unbidden down your cheek. "Hawk's been swanning around on base. He's been talking shit all day. Javy's already punched him in the nose hard enough to cause a nosebleed. Thankfully Cyclone and Warlock weren't nearby or my darling would've ended up with a formal reprimand by now."
You have to smile, even if it's half-hearted, because it's so like Jake and Javy to have your back, even at the risk of their own careers.
"You guys have to toe the line, though, Jake. This may very well be the end of my career, but it's not going to be the end of yours." Your voice is filled with so much regret. So much pain and sorrow. "I'm not going to drag you and Javy down with me."
"Baby, who said you're dragging us down with you? We're your family, remember?" He sounds so genuinely distressed for you.
"I know, Jake. And I love you. I love Javy. But you can't punch Hawk out every time you see him on base. But you can smuggle me out of my house and hug me for a good long while later today?" You feel extra small in that moment, the flashes of light from the lenses on the other side of your curtain still burning after-images into your retinas.
"The paparazzi are all over, huh?" You can hear the furrow in Jake's brow as he asks you that question.
"I feel kinda like Marilyn Monroe. I have after-images burned into my retinas from the flashes on all the pictures they got of me in my frumpy, old, US Navy t-shirt a few minutes ago." You can just barely hear the rage in Jake's voice as he calls out to Javy and the other Daggers. 
"Hey, sweetheart." It's Javy's smooth, deep voice that you hear on the phone all of a sudden. "Jakey's flipping his shit, I dunno if you can hear him, baby, but we're really worried about you. Let me see if I can get Mav to let Jake and I out early. We'll roll up in the lifted truck with the blacked out windows, y’know, the one I kept telling Jake was a ridiculous purchase, and get you to our place. You know what Jake can drive like when he gets motivated."
You have to chuckle at that, a little. Jake normally drives like a perfectly respectable person. But when he's angry or worried, he's got a lead foot. You've definitely been holding onto the passenger "Oh Shit!" handles a few times as Jake drives.
"Pack your bags, baby. You're coming to stay with us until the paparazzi back off. All I know is that if I see that little ass wipe ever again, he'll be wishing that the worst thing he gets is a broken nose." Your chuckle is watery and sniffly at his words.
"Thank you, Javy. I love you."
"Love you too, baby. If you hear tires screeching on pavement, know that sound means that Jake and I are rolling up to break you out of jail." 
The phone goes dead soon after and it takes everything you have to not start hyperventilating on the spot. You could probably handle Hawk's interview alone, but now with reporters camping out on your front lawn and hounding your every move, it's only a matter of time before some other corrupt person lets it spill that Bradley Bradshaw might be your soulmate. With no knowledge of his prognosis, it's likely that you're going to get a court martial, then be dishonorably discharged, and finally imprisoned. Who'd ever take your word over Hawk's? There are still Admirals who believe that a woman's place is in the home, after all.
Everything you've ever worked for will have turned into dust in moments. All because of one action, one reaction, really. If he weren’t so badly hurt already, you’d hate Bradley Bradshaw for what he's done to ruin your life. But you can’t hate him. You couldn’t hate him if you tried. Now that you know he’s yours, that he’s linked to you in a way nobody else will ever be, ever can be, you can catalog all of the things you’ve ever felt about him. The instant jolt of attraction you’d felt that first night, the need to have his body pressed up against yours as he crooned sweet nothings to you? That must’ve been your bond asserting itself for the first time. Your giddy feelings after the AMDO inspection are just further proof. 
You pack bag after bag as you go over every memory you have with Bradley Bradshaw. In truth, he’s always in the periphery of your memories of your time at North Island, always in the shadows, lurking at the outskirts. You know it’s not his relationship with his team, because they love him. You have to be the reason why he’d become so nervous all of a sudden. Could he have sensed the nascent bond between the two of you? But that doesn’t explain the horrible things Bradley had said about you. You’ve gone over that night over and over in your mind, but it’s standing in your sun drenched bedroom that you finally realize why. Jake had come oh-so protectively up to you after the crowd had nearly crushed you, after Bradley had saved you. He’d smothered you in his embrace and his cloying older-brotherly love and had scarcely left your side the remainder of the night.
Could Bradley have thought that Jake was your soulmate? Jake?! The very man who is so in love with his own soul that he never even lets Javy get his own beer? Ever? The man who'd called you after Javy went into G-Loc and was in the hospital for the night, crying because he'd nearly lost the most important person in his life? That Jake? It’s a ludicrous thought to you, but a conceivable one. And you can’t even disabuse Bradley Bradshaw of the notion. Not when he’s lying in a hospital bed deep in a coma.
It’s that thought which swarms in your mind as you sit in your silent, dark living room waiting for Jake and Javy to come ‘break you out of jail’ as Javy had called it. You’re paralyzed by it, in truth. How? How can you fix this? How? The more you think about the situation you’ve found yourself in, the less you think you’ve found a solution. You’re curled into a ball on the sofa, staring blankly at the television you’re not sure when you turned on, when the door opens. You’re blasted with an onslaught of noise in the short while it’s opened.
“Hi, Tink.” You blink unseeingly at the voices. These are people you can trust, you know you can, but you can’t make yourself respond. All of your feelings have clogged up your throat, muting your voice until you’re caught in the riptide-current of everything that’s happened to you.
“C’mon, darling. Let’s get you out of here, huh?” You just nod, allowing Javy to put your shoes on your feet and wrap you in a big hoodie, drawing the hood over your face before propping a pair of sunglasses on your nose.
The sound is worse the minute you set foot outside of the door. The flashes are blindingly bright even through the dark lenses on your face, and if it weren’t for how Jake and Javy sandwich you between them, both of them still in their khakis, you’d have broken in the couple of dozen steps it takes to get into Jake’s lifted truck with the blacked out windows. The reporters are shouting questions to you so insistently that you can hear them even once you’re safely ensconced in the backseat with Javy. For several long moments, they turn their hounding on Jake as he carts your bags to the tailgate in a couple of quick trips. It’s barely ten minutes later that Jake takes off down the road. But it’s in the quiet of the cab that you break down.
It’s an acute despair that’s got hold of your heart, tears slipping down your cheeks in big globs at the pain you’re feeling all over again. It’s not enough that you had to watch your soulmate crash, that you can’t know how he is doing. No, now you have to face the entire world lambasting you for something that you didn’t do. This soulmate thing didn’t come with instructions. If the gods had been a little more specific, could you have avoided all of this? Why didn’t your life come with some kind of instruction booklet? Would it have saved all of this heartache? You honestly don’t know and you’re sure you never will.
Javy’s an angel throughout it, holding you tight against his chest and letting you cry until your tears peter out. You can’t hear anything for a long while, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the big palm cradling your head or if it’s just that the beating of your heart is drowning out everything else. 
“How’s she doing, darling?” You’re struck dumb, your mind moving far too fast to put your thoughts to words.
“I dunno, Jake.” The rumble of Javy’s voice in his chest feels like home. “She cried for a long time, and now Tink’s just lying against my chest limply.”
“I wish there was something we could do to help her more, Javy.” It sounds like Jake’s choked up. Why? It’s not like you’re anything special.
“What else could we do? We got that little prick under investigation. And I punched him square in the nose. Everything else is up to Bradshaw. And we’ll take care of our girl as long as we have to. She may not believe that she did the right thing at this very moment, but we’ll help her. It’s the least we can do.” Javy sounds so sure of his ability to help you. But what if you’re past saving? It’s not like Hawk will ever change his tune.
“Then why doesn’t it feel like it’s enough? This is Tink, Javy. Our Tink. We wouldn’t have each other without her.” You’ve never heard Jake like this.
“It’ll be okay, darling. You and me, we’ll take care of our Tink as long as we have to.” 
You must fall asleep after that conversation because the next thing you know is the feeling of cool blankets over your exhausted body and a soft pillow under your heavy head. Somebody has laid your cell phone down on the nightstand and your bags are in a corner. You feel weighed down and groggy, like you’ve been sleeping for far too long and yet are still completely exhausted. You have to force yourself to walk down the stairs of Jake and Javy’s house, though you can’t quite give up the comfort of the blanket they’d draped over you. Your socked feet whisper softly against the shining wood floors, and the stealth it provides leads to you seeing something which warms your nearly broken heart.
There are takeout boxes on the counter and two half filled glasses of wine nearby.  Soft music spills from the speaker on the counter and Jake and Javy are swaying gently to the beat. As you creep closer to the kitchen, you can hear the lyrics. If you know Jake correctly, it sounds like Tim McGraw’s My Best Friend. Jake’s mouthing the words gently, Javy’s head against the crook of his neck and his hand over Jake’s heart. Both of their eyes are closed and they look completely at peace with each other. Their love for each other speaks volumes. They seem so at ease with each other, like they belong here in each other's arms. 
In this cozy ranch style kitchen, all of your problems seem miles away. If you close your eyes and let the music wash over you, you would almost think you’re in your own kitchen, dancing barefoot in somebody’s arms. There’s a dog underfoot and even though the two of you nearly fall, it feels right. When you open your eyes, you half expect yourself to be there in your kitchen, to see Bradley looking down on you. But nothing’s changed. You’re still lost and alone. Adrift in stormy seas without a life raft or life jacket. But in the warm yellow light, you let yourself hope, just a little. You have Jake, and you have Javy. Maybe they’re enough?
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Rooster
In the who-knows-how-long since he’s been stuck in limbo with his mom and dad, Bradley’s filled them in on everything they’ve missed in his life. He’s been yelled at and squished by both his parents and he feels more settled than he has been in a long, long time. From what his parents have told him, he’s not dead, not completely. There’s something tethering him to his life, something more than just his bruised, broken, battered body in a coma. 
If he stops concentrating on what it is, just a little, Bradley sometimes thinks he sees a string, shooting out from his heart and extending out, farther than he could possibly see. It’s crimson, the color bright against the pale nothingness he’s in, and god he wishes he could see who it points to. But more than anything, he wishes he’d just not decided to get into a broken jet and fly. It’s the biggest regret of his not-quite-life, not-quite-death, and he wishes more than anything that he could apologize to his soulmate.
But he can't. Not until he wakes up. It's impossible to know how many days he's been stuck in this liminal space too, the days punctuated by his mom and dad appearing and disappearing in golden motes of light, leaving him in solitude at times. It must be nice, Bradley's sure, to know you've lived a life well, to know your soulmate is waiting for you on the other side of a golden bridge waiting for you.
That's the first time he sees her, his soul. She's standing in a kitchen, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, the only parts of her visible are her sock-clad feet and her head. There's music playing, some country tune Bradley couldn't name if he tried. Her eyes are welling with tears as she watches two men dance. One is pale-skinned and blond haired, the other deeply tanned with close-cropped inky black curls. They're wrapped around each other, love dripping from every motion. Bradley knows exactly whose face it is, Tinkerbell, just as well as he knows the blond's face. It's a face he would have argued he's seen too many times since the Uranium Mission. Fucking Jake Seresin. But why's he dancing with somebody else? Shouldn't he be dancing with Tinkerbell? She’s in the room after all. How could he cheat on a girl like her? More's the question, why's he seeing Seresin and Tinkerbell instead of his soulmate?
But before Bradley can get or manipulate the visions to show him something else, he's left with only his thoughts. Those thoughts keep focusing on Tinkerbell standing in the kitchen. She’d looked so sad, so lonely. Oh god, is this when she found out Jake was cheating on her? He can’t help wishing he were there so he could hug her and kiss her tears away.  Which is ridiculous, right? But he does promise that the next time he sees Bagman, the two of them are going to have words. Nobody gets to treat their soulmate like that, not on his watch.
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
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renmedys · 4 months
Text
NAMELESS SOLDIERS
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erwin smith is a man of many regrets. levi ackerman is a man of none, or so he says. (or: in one last ditch effort, erwin remembers the many moments he and levi spoke of regrets.)
pairing: erwin smith/levi ackerman warnings: aot spoilers, mentions of death words: 3.2k
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     “DO you ever regret coming to the surface?” Erwin asked quietly, eyes mindlessly skimming over lines and lines of fine print. The newspaper rustled with each turning page, article after article written about the same thing—the foolishness of the survey corps, the countless lives that were sacrificed in vain, and the common sentiment of overall absurdity of venturing outside the walls.
“Is that a joke?” his subordinate replied with a scoff. “There isn’t time for regrets in the business we’re in, Erwin. You know that.”
Levi sat across from him in the horse-drawn carriage on their way to the capital. Eren Jaeger’s trial demanded all high-ranking officers in court, and silence now took up all the space between them as the carriage rattled along. Levi Ackerman was always a cold, inexpressive person, so asking him about things like regrets and morals hardly ever yielded profit. Yet Erwin still liked to ask him, and frequently, too. Perhaps it was because Levi is always so comparatively silent to Erwin’s perpetually chattering mouth. So many topics of discussion in this world, Erwin thought, but to Levi, if they had no relation to their jobs in the Scout Regiment (and many of them didn’t), he didn’t care for it. That’s more likely the reason Erwin likes to prod him with questions—his own amusement. Sometimes he likes to guess in his head what Levi will say to shut his questions down.
“I mean it,” Erwin said, eyes still glued to the papers. “Don’t you have any regrets, Levi?”
“No.”
Erwin looked up for a brief moment to see Levi gazing out the window through a gap in the curtains. His eyes were cloudy, glossed over in thought. That was how Erwin knew that Levi Ackerman was lying. It’s impossible not to have regrets in their line of work, Erwin thought, especially in a job riddled with death.
And Ackerman’s collection of the Survey Corp insignias that once belonged to his fallen comrades only confirmed his suspicions. (Unbeknownst to Levi, Erwin has seen the collection many times.)
“Well,” Erwin sighed, “I do.”
     EREN Jaeger was only fifteen when he was told that in him was a power his people couldn’t trust, subjected to scrutinizing and fearful gazes, chained in the middle of a room for witnesses to gawk at. A pitiful display, Erwin thought, to be muzzled like a dog and belittled like a child.
“I feel bad for him,” Erwin whispered, though he didn’t let it show on his face.
“Is that a joke?” Levi asked again, face contorted into what seemed to be disgust. “He might be a titan, for all we know.”
“You saw his eyes, Levi. Do they look like the eyes of a titan?”
“Maybe a cannibalistic one.”
Erwin stifled a laugh. Then, “He’s just a kid.”
Levi scoffed once more. “We were just kids,” he said. The conversation ended there, with the heavy truth hanging above their heads.
The trial proceeded as planned. Eren pleaded his case, stood his ground with protests and declarations until Levi went down there and kicked him across the face hard enough that a tooth fell out. The cowards in the MP section all cringed, wincing with second-hand pain and the instinctual fear when faced with violence, but those in the Survey Corps watched without batting an eye. Erwin noticed that the girl brought in as a witness had to look away, the blood boy beside her having a hand on her shoulder.
Afterwards, he remembered seeing her eyes shift into hatred whenever she saw Levi. He had never seen someone so angry on someone else’s behalf.
         LIBRARY hours went from eight in the morning to nine in the evening. Erwin had gone to read about coal mines and the resources that were lost by the breaching of Wall Maria. He checked out a few books, and headed back to his office. There, Levi Ackerman awaited him.
“There you are,” he said, sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed. “Hange told me you were at the library.”
Erwin nodded. “Did you need something?”
Levi opened his mouth to speak, but he paused before any sound escaped. He pressed his lips back together, shaking his head. “On second thought,” he said, “never mind. I have to get back.”
Erwin watched in subtle confusion as Levi left. A mystery, that man, and Erwin was sure that he’d never fully understand him. He wanted to, though—he wondered what it felt like to be the strongest soldier, to shoulder the hopes of all humanity, both those who did not acknowledge them and those who died alongside them.
Could a man like him really not have any regrets, Erwin wondered.
    ERWIN had often been asked the question, “was it worth it?” in regards to the lives lost after each mission. The first mission executed with the addition of Eren Jaeger to the ranks had ended in failure, and again he was faced with these dreadful words. Erwin remembered little of the ride back, but he remembered hearing a man said to be Petra Ral’s father talking nervously, voice shaking and rambling away to Levi. There had been nothing to do but hold one’s head high and continue walking, no matter how hard it may have been. And that was exactly what they did, even if met with the scorn of the public.
To hang your head in shame meant to admit defeat, and that was the one thing the Survey Corps did not do.
Erwin typically had hopeful enough of a constitution to not be bogged down by the weight of what was lost. But today, as he took a seat in his office, clothes still stained with dried blood, he slammed a fist on his desk. Burying his face in his hands, he yelled profanity, wondering for the first time he became commander if it was truly worth it.
Levi got injured, Eren almost kidnapped, and now the Military Police were demanding custody of the boy. Levi’s entire squad died—some of the best soldiers the Survey Corps ever had. Without them, their forces had diminished only slightly in number but significantly in experience and strength. In what world was that mission ever worth it?
“You can’t fall apart.”
A voice from the doorway interrupted him.
“If you fall apart,” he continued, “it’s the end for the Survey Corps.”
The commander sighed. “You’re right.”
He didn’t need to look up to see who it was. Albeit limping, Levi Ackerman would be standing the way he always did, confident in stature with a frown on his face, eyes cold—but for once, Erwin was wrong. Levi was leaning against the doorframe, eyes downcast, face grim.
“You alright, Levi?” Erwin found himself asking before he could stop himself. He braced himself for a snappy remark.
“I just lost my whole squad,” Levi said, and his voice was softer than Erwin thought it’d be. “For a stupid fucking brat. What do you think?”
Erwin smiled sadly. “They’re all dead, huh,” he murmured. “We’ll have to notify their families, and hold a service for each of them. I wish the mission had—”
“No,” Levi interrupted. “No looking back, Erwin. I don’t have time for regrets.”
Leave it to Levi to set Erwin’s priorities straight. 
“Sorry. You’re right.”
    IT was the night before the Shiganshina retake mission, and it was then that Levi had the sole conversation with Erwin where he did all the talking. Typically, the captain and his chatterbox personality dominated what was said. But tonight, Levi had sat down with him in his office, a solemn look on his already-solemn looking face, telling Erwin that whatever he was going to say wasn’t something he wanted to hear.
No commander wishes his people to die. Levi knew that. After all, what kind of fool willingly burdens oneself with more blood on his hands?
Even so, Levi had his hands clasped, fingers clawing at his knuckles as he brooded in silence. He was leaned over, weight on his elbows as they dug into his thighs. Head hung, eyes dark.
“Erwin,” he said, and his voice shook.
“Can’t sleep?” Erwin asked, setting aside a stack of paperwork. “That’s unlike you.”
Another scoff, as Levi mumbled a small “yeah.”
“Something on your mind?”
“I have a bad feeling about tomorrow,” Levi said, glancing at his superior. “Gut feeling. One of us is going to die.”
Erwin’s stomach dropped. Not long ago, he had narrowly escaped death himself, having lost only an arm. “Then I suppose that it will be me,” he said, trying a smile to lighten the mood. “Karma, I’d say,” he joked.
“Erwin.”
Erwin never wanted to hear his name come out of Levi’s mouth the way it did. Never out of helplessness, never out of fear, never out of defeat. And yet, in a voice unfit for Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, Levi had said his name. Weakly, softly, almost pleading, if he dared ot say.
“If it comes to it,” Levi began. Erwin wanted him to stop. “And if you order it—” Erwin wanted to stop listening. “—I’ll die quietly.”
“Levi.” Erwin said his name quietly, wanting to command him to stop. He can’t do this without him.
“Don’t be afraid to send me to my death, Erwin,” Levi said, and Erwin could tell from the look in his eyes that he was serious. “That’s what soldiers are for.”
    THE morning of the mission, Erwin found himself without rest. He’d slept as best he could after Levi left, though admittedly it was nothing more than a few hours. The horses were being assembled, the troops gearing up, and Erwin sat on a cargo box outside the stables, his head aching after the night before.
Levi approached him, sliding a blade into its slot. Adjusting his cloak, he stood before Erwin, looking down at him. “Don’t forget what I said,” he said. “I meant it.”
“Even so,” Erwin protested, “I can’t go sending our best soldier to his death just like that, can I?”
His joking tone didn’t seem to land. “Humanity needs you more than me,” Levi said. “Do it if it comes to it.”
“Would you sacrifice yourself? Without my orders?”
“Huh?” Levi scowled. “Who would do that, dumbass?”
“I see.” Erwin laughed. “Only on my orders, huh.”
“Don’t think about it too much,” his subordinate said, heeding the call of one of his men and beginning to walk away. You don’t have time for regrets, Erwin. You’re the one who’s going to save humanity.”
As he turned his back, the wings of freedom that symbolized everything the Scout Regiment stood for fluttered upon his cloak. Erwin couldn’t help but laugh. What kind of commander was he if his underling was more prepared for what was to come than him?
    THE basement. The basement. The basement.
Everything was so close. The truth. His dreams. His father. The basement. Finally, Erwin would learn whether he was right or not. Whether his father died because he knew too much or because the military simply didn’t like curious fools. Erwin’s meaning in life was going to be fulfilled. He’d finally know. That itch he could read would finally be scratched, and he’d be able to die in peace.
Maybe he’d finally have time to charm a woman and take her to bed. Or read those books he’d been buying but ended up collecting dust. Or go to sleep at a decent time. Or—
“Oi, Erwin! What are we going to do?!”
Man, what an idiot, Erwin thought, thinking about the future at a time like this. Thinking about all the things he wouldn’t get to do that he wanted to, all the people he made promises with that he could no longer keep, all on the battlefield while titans were rampaging.
Levi’s face had an expression Erwin’s seen many times. Desperation, some may call it, but on Levi’s face Erwin would say it was more out of stubbornness and the refusal of death than desperation. He remembered what Levi had said the night before. One of us is going to die. Don’t be afraid to send me to my death.
Oh, man. And the basement was right there. 
“Erwin… If you tell me there’s no way left for us to fight back,” Levi said, “I’ll start preparing for defeat. Eren’s sprawled out there, right? Go wake him up. You and some others get on him and run. Then we’ll at least have a few survivors.”
It was true. A hopeless situation was unfolding right before their eyes, with the Colossal and Armored Titans rampaging and making Eren’s titan pale laughably in comparison. The boy had been thrown to the top of Wall Maria, rocks were falling like rain from outside the town, and the puny humans of the Survey Corps were going to die. Not to mention Hange had bit the dust, too.
“The recruits and survivors from Hange’s squad can scatter on horses all at once and try to head home,” Levi continued. “With them acting as bait, you and the others on Eren will be able to escape.”
“And what are you going to do, Levi?” Erwin asked. 
“I’ll deal with that beast. I’ll lead him away.”
“No,” Erwin said immediately. “You can’t even get close to him.”
“Isn’t that the situation we’re in? It’s a major defeat. Honestly,” Levi said, looking down at his hand, “I’m not expecting anyone to make it home alive at this point.”
“True,” Erwin replied, eyes downcast, “if we didn’t have any way of fighting back.”
It took a moment for Levi to realize what Erwin was suggesting. “Do you have one?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you put that ugly mouth of yours to work earlier and say something?”
Another round of rocks were flung. All the bits and pieces collided with the roofs of the empty homes, mini explosions erupting across the district. Smoke bellowed, filling the air with dust and debris. The scenery was being destroyed. The situation was only worsening.
“If this plan works, you may be able to defeat that beast,” Erwin said. “But only if we sacrifice the lives of all the recruits here, as well as mine. But I doubt these young-recruits would charge forward unless I was leading the way. I’d have to be the very first to die.”
Fuck.
“Without ever learning… what was in that basement.”
The basement. That stupid, damned, fucking basement.
“I just,” Erwin sighed, slumping against a wall. “I just want to go to that basement.”
What did Erwin live for all this time? To lead humanity beyond the walls? To save humanity and become a hero? Fuck no. Erwin Smith was a selfish bastard who cared for nothing but checking his answers, driven by a desire to know the truth about the dream he shared with his father. And those answers—the answers to every question he’s ever had, the questions that kept him up at night, the unanswered questions that haunted his father’s death—they were in that basement.
“But Levi… can you see them? Our comrades? They’re watching to see what they died for. Is it all nothing more than… my own childish delusion?”
Levi’s eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed as he knelt down before his commander. “You’ve fought a good fight. We’ve only come this far thanks to you. I’m making the choice,” he said, nearly choking on his words. They were gnarled in his throat, but he managed to speak without a semblance of hesitation. “Give up on your dreams and die for us.”
Erwin’s eyes widened slightly.
“Lead the recruits straight into hell,” Levi continued, “and I’ll take down the Beast Titan.”
Erwin could only smile. Sadly. 
    THEIR last conversation was one that Erwin hoped he could keep with him even after dying.
“I tried to live without regrets,” Erwin muttered, readying himself for what would have to be the most convincing speech of his life. “I really did.”
“Any yet…?” Levi asked, prodding him on. It was the first time he ever encouraged Erwin to speak.
“I still have them. I still have so many of them, Levi.”
Levi held his silence, gazing down at the grass beneath their feet. It continued to sway in the wind, green and prosperous despite the patches next to it being trampled flat, despite the world around it crumbling to pieces. Humans are a lot like grass, Erwin thought. 
“But I think my biggest one,�� he sighed, “would be not being able to see what’s in that basement.”
Levi scoffed. It was something he often did when Erwin said stupid things. It was a sound Erwin was beginning to enjoy hearing. “Out of everything, it’s not the hundreds of lives you’ve sacrificed to make it here?”
The commander laughed. “I suppose not. That’s cruel of me, isn’t it.” 
“Yeah. It is.”
“Sorry,” Erwin said, standing up. “We have no time for regrets, right?”
He seemed taken aback by his words. A brief silence. Then, “Yeah,” Levi agreed, “We have no time for regrets.”
There was a rock the size of a building flying at Erwin. In the next second—no, half of a second—he’d be dead. Yet in that second was thirty something years of his life, from his father to his grave, from the day he became commander to the day he’d die.
There’s became I, then I became you, and finally, you became we. 
We have no time for regrets, right?
Erwin laughed. Not dying with a smile on his face wasn’t something he wanted to add to his list of regrets, after all.
Don’t be afraid to send me to my death. One of us is going to die.
It turned out to be him, just like he suspected. At least he was right about something. And in the end, it was Levi who sent him to his death.  Another thing to laugh about over drinks if he could just make it home—
Erwin fell off his horse before he realized it. There was a hole in his side. There was no way he was going home alive, now. He screamed. He yelled at the troops to march forward, but he couldn’t tell if they heard him or not. Everything was mute, the world around him deafened and soundless. His eyes closed.
No time for regrets? At least on my deathbed, let me dwell on them a bit, Levi.
People say that when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. They say that you’ll arrive at answers to questions you’ve been asking all your life, you’ll make life changing realizations, and that your past mistakes and regrets will tear you apart until you’re gone from this world for good. They say that there’s a strange sense of peace when it comes to dying.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since his eyes closed. But for Erwin Smith, as his consciousness was fading once and for all, all three came in the form of one answer. His biggest regret wasn’t that he wouldn’t get to see what was in the basement.
It was that he wouldn’t get to see the rest of the world with Levi Ackerman by his side.
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owlhead650 · 4 months
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Pokemon Rejuvenation - Asopo Interceptor of Persistence meets Lepidopterist Butterfly
This is a short story set in the world of Pokemon Rejuvenation. The player character is replaced by my interceptor oc Asopo who had Alain as his host. This story takes place during the month of .Karmafiles and in it Asopo meets another Pokemon trainer known as Butterfly. Butterfly is an oc created by @lemonade-juley and after looking at the art of her I felt inspired to write this story. The story is about 6180 words long. I hope you enjoy.
Asopo was walking the streets of Grand Dream City, shortened to GDC, and enjoying the sound of Thursday's rainfall. The dome around the city could simulate any weather, allowing the citizens to vote each morning on what they wanted. Yet no matter what it always rained on Thursdays, making it Asopo’s favourite day in the city.
He wore a black jacket with neon magenta lines around the sleeves and edges, a white shirt, blue waterproof runners, a blue skirt and fishnet leggings. His hair was long and vast, dyed blue and tied at three different spots to keep it in the strange shape that made Asopo feel beautiful. As much as he loved the feeling, the sound, the look of rain falling, Asopo knew it would ruin his hair so he walked along with a parasol balanced against his shoulder.
Eventually Asopo arrived at Somniam Mall, a bright towering glass structure that was wonderfully well stocked yet tragically gatekept and expensive. Asopo walked along the tiles of the shopping centre floor and searched for a shop he’d never been in before. It didn’t take long, as a hardcore Pokemon battler Asopo only used two shops on a regular basis. He entered a place called Ribbombee’s Raiments and saw many clothes with colourful patterns spread across the fabric. Most if not all of these clothes were made for women but Asopo was the kind of boy who wore fishnets and a skirt whenever he felt like it so there’s no chance that would stop him. He had closed his umbrella, now carrying it with his left hand. He reached out towards the ring of clothes hangers and let his fingers dance through the silk. Green, black, blue, a sun dress styled in the likeness of Araquanid. Asopo never trained an Araquanid yet he faced trainers like Crawli or Alain who showed him just how powerful it could be. He imagined himself wearing it during a visit to Teilia resort, laughing with his friend Amber under the sun. 
As he lifted it up, he realised someone else had a hand on the dress. A girl his age marginally shorter than him with auburn hair and orange orbs for eyes. Her freckled face widened in surprise as she took a step back. 
“O-oh! Hi there.” She had let go of the sundress. Asopo saw she already wore a dress of her own. It was light in weight and colour, with many shapes like butterfly wings. Dominantly white, with orange and black outlining the finer details. It revealed her shoulders and chest. She also had a black and white mothwing cape. Asopo wondered if she was a regular.
“Are you going to buy that dress?” She asked, lifting a finger to point at it gingerly. Asopo nodded.
“Good choice, I was planning on getting it for myself but I think it’d look great on you. Why don’t you try it on, just to be sure?” Asopo could tell she was hoping he would change his mind, but that wasn’t going to happen. Pulling the curtains behind him, Asopo sat on the stool and held up the sundress. He removed all his major articles of clothing except for the belt and its six pokeballs. With the sundress on he bundled his own clothes in a corner and pulled the curtain. The girl had been waiting and the first thing Asopo saw on the other side was her bright expression. “Hey, that looks really cute! You’re not as cute as me or my moths, but the sundress is still good on you. How does it feel?”
Asopo thought carefully for about three seconds, analysing his current physical and mental state. “I am comfortable.”
“Great, feeling comfortable is the most important part about the clothes you wear. You can’t run or hide if a dress hinders your mobility.”
Asopo reached under the skirt and pulled out a standard pokeball, allowing his trusty Swampert to emerge in a flash of light. Mud Splash looked Asopo up and down. “Swaammmp!” It cried with a glint in its eyes Asopo recognised as approval and happiness.
“I didn’t know you were a trainer. Do you battle?” Asopo looked back at the girl and nodded. He was proud of his Pokemon power, they always came through for him when it mattered most. “That’s good. Me and my moths are trying to get stronger too! Actually, let’s battle. I won’t be able to protect myself if I don’t stay practised.”
Asopo smiled and nodded. He felt the bond between himself and others was strongest when battling alongside them, and sometimes you get unique insights into the nature of your opponents. Seeing the way trainers speak to their pokemon, the way the pokemon behave and express themselves in the struggle, there’s nothing else like it.
Asopo and the girl took their places on the road in front of Somniam Mall, facing each other at a healthy distance. Despite what you would assume, a pokemon battle on the streets of GDC wasn’t particularly disruptive or dangerous. Ambitious trainers fought each other in public spaces all the time, the city roads were built specifically to resist pokemon attacks therefore accommodating this aspect of its culture.
“Okay Asopo, I can’t linger too long so let’s keep this as a quick 2v2 double battle. Frosmoth! Volcarona! Come on out!” The girl threw both pokeballs up in the air and with a flash of light the moths took flight. Volcarona looked about as if expecting to see dangers of some kind. It then thrusted itself towards its trainer, snuggling against her. “H-hey! Stop it guys, not now…” The girl rubbed Volcarona’s fur anyway, its six orange wings lit up with excitement. Frosmoth’s wings blew cold wind as the girl rubbed its head, yet this scene made Asopo feel warm. 
“Go Mudsplash! Go Drizzler!” Asopo’s throwing arm was fast and precise. He had thrown Mudsplash’s ball before Drizzler’s yet they both emerged only half a second apart and quickly positioned themselves, alert and ready to face the moths.
Volcarona and Frosmoth were both satisfied with the attention from their trainer and now ready to battle. Asopo and the girl made eye contact, neither hesitated.
“Giga drain, now!” Volcorona flapped its wings and channelled powers of growth, ready to absorb the energy from its opponent like a tree with its roots in the ground.
“Protect.” Mudsplash braced itself and concentrated its move energy into a barrier that nullified what would have otherwise been a devastating attack. Drizzler flapped its wings and brought the rainfall back. 
“Pelipper pel!” It chirped happily. “Hurricane.” As Asopo had asked it to, Drizzler sent a cyclone towards Frosmoth.
“Use stringshot on the wall!” Responding to its trainer, Frosmoth shot a sticky weave rope towards the side of a building and pulled itself away from Drizzler’s attack.
“Good! Now Volcarona, use sunny day!” Its wings shone with heavenly radiance, demonstrating the power that inspired worship from ancient Unovans and banishing the rainfall Asopo loved.
“Tailwind. Rockslide.” Drizzler flapped its wings and gave its team a favourable air stream. Mud Splash clenched its fists and slammed the ground sending dozens of stones into the air. Volcarona was hurt, badly. “Oh no! Frosmoth use blizzard to protect yourself!” Frosmoth twirled in the air and sent frigid gusts every direction, deterring the stones from harming it and momentarily blinding Asopo with the sudden burst of snow.
“Volcarona we can’t give up! Use morning sun!” Forcing itself upright the moth absorbed strength from the light. 
“Mud Splash. Together.” Asopo pulled back the purple sleeve of his dark coat. The key stone shone from his mega ring, reacting to Mud Splash’s Swampertite. Their souls connected. Asopo saw the world as Mud Splash and Mud Splash saw the world as Asopo. They were one, they were two, they were strong. Mud Splash was enveloped in light and changed, its arms getting thicker, its muscles getting stronger. Mega evolution.
“Hurricane, behind. Liquidation. Volcarona.” Drizzler flew behind Mud Splash chirping about how it was going to win. Carefully it surrounded Mud Splash with a cyclone, propelling them forward. Mud Splash channelled water energy through their fists and became a blue torpedo crashing into Volcarona.
“Well crap! Return!” Volcarona was lying flat on the ground with a dizzy look on its face. The girl returned it to the pokeball. “It’s all up to you now Frosmoth. I know we can still do it! Icy wind!” A chilling gale lashed at the legs of the opposing pokemon, slowing their strides and hindering their dexterity. “Rain dance.” Drizzler looked up at the skies and imagined a happy world where it could create puddles all day. “Pelipper Pel!” In the rain Mud Splash could move faster than a jet ski. With a tailwind behind it and lashing rain above it that icy wind meant very little.
“Liquidation.”
“Use feather dance!” Frosmoth blocked the heavy blows with a thick cushion of feathers. What followed was the prolonged struggle of a desperate bug and persistent sealife clashing their moves and running around the streets. Frosmoth kept blocking attacks and pulling itself out of danger. Occasionally Frosmoth would find a way to disappear from view, but Asopo and his pokemon remained alert, tireless. Never to be taken by surprise and rushing to corner Frosmoth until it ran away again. This girl was such an expert at escaping and hiding that the Frosmoth she trained was never caught by any of its pursuers. Instead it simply grew exhausted, struggling all on its own.
“Fr-frosss…” Fromoth collapsed to the ground and the girl recalled it. “Ugh, I want to get better at battling, but maybe I should just stick to running away…” Both trainers were exhausted, but the girl looked gloomy. She crossed her arms and sulked. 
“...Are you okay?” Asopo readjusted his umbrella and shared the shelter with her.
“Y-yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just that my favourite dress is all soggy now, and obviously I’m disappointed I lost. But stuff happens, right? You’ve got to keep going. Even if I only enjoyed the first half of that I still think you’re a really great trainer Asopo. I can see why everyone in this city likes to talk about your battles.” She looked back at her dress and felt the fabric drenched in water.
“Do you need a spare?” Asopo knew how much it sucked to be stuck in wet clothes, but he loved swimming anyway.
“No, no, I just need to dry it. I should be going now.” She let go of the umbrella they were both holding.
“My apartment has a dryer. We can feed our pokemon too.” The girl had made a move as if to walk away but stopped just as abruptly. She looked thoughtful and stared at Asopo. Everything about her at that moment seemed uncertain, nervous. She was struggling with a choice. She put her hand back on the umbrella handle. “Good idea, I’ll go with you for a little bit then.”
Asopo and the girl went for a long walk through the city, crossing roads and passing through parks. She told Asopo an anecdote about how she met her Snom who became Frosmoth. “Then I said, it’s ice to meet you! And I caught them with my pokeball.” Eventually they arrived at the Residential District and found the massive apartment complex where Asopo had been given a room by Rhodea.
Asopo showed the girl where his room was and then he went to the kitchen while she changed. She seemed so sad. Her pokemon adored her and persisted as much as they could for her sake. This girl was a good person who had to endure a lot, maybe even fended off some dangers. Probably with little or no protection from her parents. So really she seemed just like a lot of Asopo’s other friends. He realised he just acknowledged her as a friend and smiled.
When she came out of his room the girl was wearing the red and white dress Asopo found on Terajuma. It looked the same as the one Tesla wore, only fitted for Asopo instead. What was she doing? Hadn’t she learnt time and again that trusting strangers or getting close to other people endangered her? What if Asopo called the police? To escape from this building she would need to jump out a window and get one of her moths to catch her. Insane.
She could hear the hum of the drying machine, the repetitive sound of it functioning. It was dark outside but brightly lit within. Through the windows you could make out only your own reflection and some distant city lights. She could smell something too, a sweet warm scent. Asopo was making tea. “Huh? Asopo you didn’t need to do that.”
He slid the miniature plate along the counter to her side. “Here. Drink it, if you want.” Asopo picked up his own cup and sat down in front of the TV. The girl picked up the plate and slowly stepped over to the couch, nearly tripping over a pool noodle on the way. Mud Splash was chewing on it like a dog with a toy in its mouth. “Swammmp…”
She sat with Asopo and prayed he never watched the news. Turns out he did. 
“Hello everyone~ It’s me, everyone’s favourite Gardevoir here with the latest and greatest in Breaking News!” The girl was relieved, somehow Asopo had tuned into the Reborn region’s news channel. It’s unlikely that Gossip Gardevoir would be covering stories of the wanted criminal who had fled to Aevium. She would’ve been really scared if Volta was the one on screen.
“Today I’m here in Calcenon City to interview the smouldering beauty famed for the flames– Charlotte Belrose!” The Gardevior was standing next to a woman with long pink hair and a red leather jacket.
“Yes it's nice to see that you kept your introduction for me consistent, even years later but I’d prefer if you toned down the peppiness for this one.”
“Oh? And why is that?” The girl noticed the indignation in Gardevoir’s voice, all but buried by her peppy mask. The passive aggressive smile on Gardevoir’s face unpleasantly reminded the girl of her own mother.
“Because. Look.” Charlotte gestured to all the burnt buildings of Calcenon city and her ice pokemon suppressing the last of the flames. “Hey, um… Asopo?” Asopo looked at her. Silently awaiting the rest of her question.
“Can we watch something else? This is a bit uncomfortable for me…” Asopo changed the channel. “Welcome to Gearen News. I’m your host, Volta!”
“UM! Can we change it again?!” Asopo changed it again. The next show was a true crime tv show hosted by a retired officer Jenny. They were about to interview a famous detective named Elaura. 
“HUH! FUNNY HOW NOTHING ON TV TODAY IS REALLY MY CUP OF TEA!” Asopo turned to the girl, a humorous yet deadpan expression on his face. “But of course. Your cup of tea is right there.” The girl snatched the remote out of his hand and turned it off.
“...Okay. Sorry about that Asopo, it turns out I’m just not in the mood for this right now… I really hope I didn’t bother you.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Nice. Thanks for having me, but I think I should probably just leave now. Thanks for the tea, you’re really good at making it.” The girl stood up and turned around to make sure she didn’t leave anything on the couch.
“Mom Tesla taught me how. I mean Tesla. That’s what I call her.” Asopo was good at concealing it when he felt embarrassed, but she saw the cracks, yet decided not to pry. “Well Tesla taught you well. This is goodbye Asopo, thanks for being so nice to me.” The way she said that bothered Asopo. It sounded too dramatic, too definitive. At that moment Asopo finally realised he neglected to ask her name. He chased after her, looking through the hallways of the apartment complex, yet she was nowhere to be found. Already gone.
The next day Asopo had a wonderful time exploring the city with his friend Ren. A gym leader named Talon had set up some ‘mysteries’ for them to solve. The truth behind the mysteries is that they were either some dull tourist attractions or actual insanity. No in between. It culminated with a thrilling pokemon battle against Talon atop one of the highest buildings in the city. 
As Asopo was walking away from the match with Talon, back towards the Residential District, an adult woman who looked the same age as Tesla approached Asopo. She had a heavy black coat and short brown hair. A Stoutland dutifully followed after her. “Excuse me! Are you Asopo?” He wasn’t expecting this woman to be dangerous, but instinctively his throwing arm adjusted itself over Mudsplash’s pokeball.
“Yes.”
“Wonderful. You have quite a reputation in this city you know, while I was gathering information I came across your fan club in the Scholar District. Everyone I’ve asked about you claims you’re a powerful defender of the Aevium region. You’ve fought evil in many places, haven’t you?” This woman didn’t sound like she was praising Asopo, the tone was very as a matter of fact.
“Definitely.”
“Good. Ah, but where are my manners? My name is Elaura, Detective Elaura to you. I’ve come to bring another villain to your attention. One that I believe has recently entered the city. The fugitive, the renegade, the notorious and diabolical arsonist Butterfly!” Elaura held up a wanted poster. It was her, the girl Asopo met yesterday, who he had battled with, shared tea with and talked to.
“Hm? That’s an interesting expression. Asopo, do you know anything about Butterfly?” Asopo put on his best poker face and started weighing his options. The last time Asopo held his tongue and hid information about a criminal was with Flora. He knew Flora was dangerous and for that exact reason he thought reporting her immediately was too risky. Flora went on to bomb the GDC ball event and tried to seize the jewel of life on Eclysia Pyramid, nearly killing several of Asopo’s friends. He did not regret his decision considering the likely alternatives if Asopo had reported her after all, but clearly protecting a criminal like that could have destructive consequences.
Alternatively Asopo could report Butterfly and confirm that she was somewhere in this city. If he shared that information then he would need to commit to helping Elaura corner her and seeing that she faces the full consequences of every crime on her record. On paper helping the authorities catch an arsonist sounds like the right thing to do, but despite being an interpol agent Elaura would first need to bring Butterfly to the GDC authorities before returning her to the region she came from. Asopo knew that former mayor Cassandra wasn’t the only member of Team Xen in GDC’s government, so he felt they weren't trustworthy.
That’s what this choice came down to, trust. Did Asopo believe that Butterfly was a good person who shouldn’t be caught, or did he believe she was a threat? 
He thought all of that in five seconds.
“Unfortunately I don’t know anything about her. I was just surprised that someone like her could be so dangerous.” Proper eye contact and a steady voice.
“I see where you’re coming from Asopo. It would shock most to learn that such a cute face could hide such a dark heart. Did you know that her first act of arson was an attempt to kill both of her own parents? Only one of them survived.” Asopo felt his chest tighten, but he didn’t change his mind.
“Well, you’re free to go Asopo. I simply thought it best that you should know about this, the city has been through enough this year already and I would hate to see anything worse happen. Goodbye.” Elaura walked off, though her Stoutland lingered for a moment to stare at Asopo.
Butterfly had found her way to The Underground, a separate city beneath the city in which many criminals and outcasts found a sanctuary. She felt as though she didn’t fit in at all. Everytime a person got near her she walked to the other side of the street. You could do so more safely and quickly in The Underground than you could above due to the total lack of automobiles. Butterfly had found a hotel run by people who seemed relatively sane and normal, but she was restless. She had that quiet impression of sadness that made her chest feel empty. She needed to talk to someone or do something. She was grateful for the company of her pokemon but she needed another person. 
In The Underground city centre Butterfly saw a one storey building with lots of flashing lights around the corners and around the door. Next to the entrance was a small black sign with red writing that said ‘Madame Peony’s Fortune Telling’. Butterfly had never been the type to go to mystics and psychics for life advice, but since she had nothing better to do she may as well try it for fun.
Butterfly walked through the neon archway and pushed open the door beneath it, hearing the jingle of some shop bells and enjoying a break from all the bright flashing lights of the city. Instead this shop was lit only by candlelight. The actual interior made Butterfly uneasy, it looked like an abandoned casino that had been trashed, with many broken slot machines and some thrown on their side. “W-why is everyone down here so weird? I’m a bit different myself, but still…” 
Someone coughed and Butterfly noticed the short old crone who probably owned this dump. “Hello there young lady, what are you doing here?” She had wild red hair tied into banana shaped knots around her head. She wore these comical round glasses, held a walking stick and her black dress had a green skirt that dragged on the ground with the effect of concealing her feet. Madame Peony looked ridiculous.
“Uh, nothing in particular really. I just read the sign that said you were a fortune teller.”
“Ah very good, but are you sure that’s what you want? Looking into the future has its consequences. You peer into a world that was not meant to be seen.”
“Well having a ball with you sounds better than having a bawl by myself in the corner somewhere, so I may as well.” The woman Butterfly kept internally calling an old crone didn’t have the lively reaction she was hoping for. “...A joke. I was telling a joke. Nevermind. If you aren’t going to tell my fortune then I’ll just leave and find something else to do.” Madame Peony straightened up with a crooked smile. “I like you, girl. I’ll tell your fortune for free, just because you put me in a good mood.”
Madame Peony stared into the crystal ball, the mist inside was moving about. Eventually they cleared and both of them could see Butterfly’s future…
Butterfly was old, as old as Madame Peony and about as strange looking. She was utterly alone, without any people or pokemon anywhere in sight. That quiet feeling, that absence in her chest which Butterfly knew too well, was intensified. It hadn’t gone away, not for any significant amount of time in her whole life. Butterfly had spent her entire life on the run. She had experienced minor misfortunes at every turn, sometimes with dire consequences. She had always been an unlucky person. No one had ever accepted her, no one had ever understood her. She was living in some remote mountain range in a wooden cabin as she waited to die. She had released her pokemon into a thriving forest she researched for ages. All types of bug pokemon lived in peace there. They would be happy. At least happier than they were the day Butterfly released them all.
She pressed her dirty blanket against herself while trying not to think about the sounds her moths made when she was leaving them behind, or the things she had to do and say to them so they would finally accept that she wasn’t their trainer anymore.
But Butterfly knew it was for the best. If she brought her pokemon to this place where she was dying and kept them linked to her pokeballs then who would release them afterwards? How would they survive this environment so unsuited to them? It had to be this way.
Butterfly stared at nothing and went to sleep for the final time.
Butterfly stumbled backwards and realised she was in tears. The vision had felt so real, so sensuous, as if she had actually gone through it. Madame Peony looked shocked and ashamed. “Oh, ummm… wow, that was worse than I thought. I’m very sorry, child.”
“I-I-I, what was that…?” Butterfly was pale, she felt weak.
“Well unfortunately that was your fate. The visions I allow my clients to experience are absolutely unchangeable and inevitable. Maybe you should visit my friend Sienna. She’s very wise and she might have some advice for you, or maybe…” Madame Peony paused, Butterfly could see behind those sunken eyes that she was weighing the odds on a sudden thought.
“Um… maybe what?” Butterfly sounded so small, she felt so small.
“...Maybe you should become acquainted with my other friend Asopo instead.”
“A-Asopo?!” It couldn’t be true, surely not the same Asopo.
“Yes. I’m familiar with a trainer named Asopo who doesn’t talk much, loves the rain and has frequently visited The Underground over the past few months while keeping it a secret. He’s also interested in fashion like how you seem to be. Maybe you’d get along.”
“Uh, yes. Maybe we would. I think I actually spoke with him before, but I never told him my name.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah he was nice to me and I was jealous of how his hair had grown out longer than mine.” Butterfly ran a finger through her own auburn hair.
“Heh, well I know this restaurant that’s also connected to a casino. It’s a great place to chat so how about I send you both over there?”
“Yeah okay.” Butterfly had dried her reddened face and steadied her breathing.
Asopo was walking back to the residential district after the talk with Elaura, but then his Rotom phone started buzzing. Madame Peony. He had exchanged contact details with her and Particia so they could alert each other if they learnt about the whereabouts of Dylan, V or Ana.
“Hello.”
“Ah hello Asopo. How are you today?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good, good. I’ve met someone I think you should come see. It’s this girl who visited me. She had a… misfortunate experience looking into the future with me and I think she needs your help. If you’re willing then you can meet her at the same pub in The Underground that you’ve visited with Dylan and Patty before.”
“I’ll go.”
“Thank you very much Asopo. Bye for now.”
He turned back the way he came and went to the night market. He located the elevator and held onto one of the bannisters. Metal grates of the platform descended. He felt the shift of his weight, the cool air of the ventilators on his face and listened to the machine function, it sounded like a heavy lifting machine. For a couple minutes he was in darkness, with just enough light to see the walls around him. Then the flash of The Underground and its neon colours. The elevator came to a halt.
Butterfly pushed open the doors and entered the building. The ‘pub’ looked like the people building it couldn’t decide on creating an actual pub or a 1980s Unovan restaurant instead. Butterfly arrived just in time to catch the tail end of a waitress screaming about Broadway or something. Butterfly glanced about and decided on a large cushioned chair in the corner where most people wouldn’t notice her.
Was this going to be alright? What if Asopo learnt she was a criminal? It’s so strange to think that Asopo and the old crone were on friendly speaking terms. How would the two of them have even met? How does Asopo even know about The Underground? Despite feeling uneasy, Butterfly had no intention of running from this chance. She just saw what a life of running would do to her… she had to take the risk.
The door opened and she glimpsed blue hair with patches of purple. The black and magenta jacket, the white shirt. It’s Asopo. He noticed her and approached. No backing out now. “Hi there.” Butterfly said, trying her best to sound casual. Her best wasn’t always enough.
“Hello.” Asopo sat down opposite her. Silence. They just stared at each other. Strange. Normally when Asopo stared at someone in silence they would just start talking at him and he could respond if he wanted. He’d need to take the lead this time. “So how long have you been on the run?”
Butterfly did an ever weary sigh. “...So you know. I’ve been running for too long. When did you learn?”
“A few hours ago. A detective named Elaura told me you were dangerous. She wanted to know if I knew anything.” Asopo saw Butterfly’s face pale.
“Oh… and what did you tell her?”
“Nothing.”
“H-huh?” Butterfly had this deer in headlights expression. Then she coughed. “So… what does that mean?”
“It means that Elaura doesn’t know where you are.”
“But why? Why would you lie to her? Why would you say that if she told you I was dangerous?”
“Because I’d like to decide that myself. Tell me everything so I can figure out what kind of person you are.” Asopo didn’t really trust the authorities to know the difference between good and evil. He just didn’t believe all the things being said about Butterfly.
“Well I didn’t have any clue what we were meant to talk about anyway. Explaining how I got into this mess is as good a topic as any I suppose. But I’ll only do it if you tell me about yourself as well, deal?”
“Yes.” 
“Right. So I’ll start then.” Some colour had returned to her face by now. Maybe this would be a nice evening.
“It started with my parents. I guess you could say that about my entire life in general but at the start they were the only ones I wanted to run from. They despised me. They couldn’t stand who I was becoming or who I wanted to be. I really can’t bring myself to tell you the details but I had no choice other than to run from them. Staying with them would’ve been suffocating, miserable. I wouldn’t be able to live in a way that matters if I stayed with them.” Asopo could sense Butterfly’s resentment. It’s the kind of anger, the kind of grudge that someone holds onto when they feel powerless. Then she looked expectantly at Asopo.
“Your turn. How did your story start Asopo?”
“I was a disembodied spirit from another world that was called to take the place of a person named Alain who rejected their role. I think it’s beyond the scope of this conversation for me to fully explain this ‘role’ but I’ll answer further questions about where I came from.”
Butterfly had a strange smile. “Ahah, what? That’s a joke right?” 
Asopo didn’t laugh. “Oh shit you aren’t joking. So can you elaborate on the whole ‘disembodied spirit’ thing?”
“I don’t fully remember but I have memories of swimming around somewhere. I think I was a magic fish. Sometimes I get dreams about another life where I was human. I think I came into existence as a fish spirit then born as a human but then back to being a fish. Maybe this sounds like madness to you but it’s the truth.” When Asopo was finished Butterfly nodded like she understood.
“I think I believe you actually. It’s just something about you that makes me think you wouldn’t lie about that. Your turn.”
“Butterfly, is it true that you tried to kill your parents?” Asopo didn’t sound accusatory or suspicious, he was just genuinely asking.
“No. Never. I don’t think I have it in me to hurt someone like that. Even if I’ve done it by accident once or twice. People think I tried to kill them because my home caught on fire at the same time I decided to leave for good. Also because the one who survived knew I had a larvesta and assumed I was to blame, which is typical of them actually.” 
Asopo thought back to how his mother died. 
Nancy never would’ve blamed him for anything, certainly not for her death. Regardless of what Nancy was or how their relationship started, Asopo knew they were mother and son. They loved each other and that bond was real.
“So Asopo, why did you start fighting Team Xen? I heard about your reputation. I suppose Elaura went to you because she knows you’re Aevium’s most prolific vigilante. I’d say it in a way that sounds less cheesy but isn’t that basically accurate? How did it start?”
“The S.S. Oceana bombing. Team Xen kidnapped everyone aboard other than me. I started fighting them to rescue my mom, but when I finally found her their leader killed her in front of me.”
“O-oh god… I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Even if our time together was short it felt very special to me and I’m proud of her. She only died because she sacrificed herself to give everyone else more time to escape. Halfway through the sacrifice she realised she wanted to live after all but at that point it was too late. Some people might think her attempt to escape showed weakness and a failure to remain resolute, but I think it makes her even greater. She valued her life, she wanted to keep living but she risked it anyway. I’ll never forget that. My mom Nancy is my hero.”
They lingered on that thought.
“Asopo, normally I’d say that you have my sympathies, but you don’t. -What I mean is that Nancy sounds like the most wonderful person, I’m happy for you. Oh yeah, uh, your turn to ask a question.” 
Asopo composed himself, then asked “So what’s it like being on the run? Do you think there’s any chance we can exonerate you?”
“It feels nice to know that someone wants to help me but I’ve already been on the run for years. At first I really didn’t know what I was doing, only escaping through dumb luck. By now though? I’d say I’ve gotten pretty good at running away. I’ve got lots of techniques for hiding and fleeing using my pokemon. But it’s scary. I always feel isolated because there’s no one on my side, everytime I’m out in public I worry about someone recognising me. Also Elaura won’t stop chasing me. She’s getting good at it. As well hidden as The Underground is, I’m sure she’ll find it. Even though it’d be nice to get proven innocent I think that I’ve committed enough minor offences as well as accidental manslaughter that I’ve lost hope of that ever happening.” Butterfly sounded so defeated, so tired. It reminded Asopo of his own experiences of futility.
“Never lose hope. As long as you persist there’s always the possibility.”
“I guess, but what’s even supposed to happen? What can I do? I’m getting sick of being alone.”
“You won’t be anymore. I want to be friends with you, and there’s some people I can introduce you to.” Those words reduced her to tears. Asopo didn’t try to quiet her. Crying was good. Asopo enjoyed a breakdown when things were overwhelming.
“Asopo. I can’t remember the last time anyone said that to me. I don’t think anything made me that happy in a long time. Who are these other people you know?”
“My friends Erin, Melia, Ren, Aelita, Venam, Kanon, Amber and some others. That reminds me, we’re going to be really busy for the rest of the month because we’re preparing to raid Team Xen’s base and stop them for good. We’re working with the Champion of Aevium and some other elite trainers. I’ll contact you from time to time but I’m busy.”
“Yeah and I’m tired, but even something like this means a lot to me. Thanks for giving me this chance Asopo. Even if I’m still on the run, knowing that someone like you believes in me makes everything feel much better.” Butterfly stood up and walked towards the door, there was a spring in her step. She was happier. She looked back at Asopo one more time. 
“By the way, if you’re ever stuck for a good outfit come find me and I’ll stitch something together for you. Just try to keep it out of the rain!”
And that's the story. @lemonade-juley I hope that I potrayed Butterfly accurately. I educated my interpretation of her by reading a lot of the asks you received about her and reading the stuff you included in your posts on the character. I just thought that the character was such a funny and interesting premise that I wanted to create a longer story about her. To anyone else, thank you so much for reading this entire fanfiction about a pair of obscure pokemon ocs.
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skylarmoon71 · 1 year
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Leonardo (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)- Chapter 2
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“Your life matters.”
That conversation has not left your mind.
It’s been weeks since you last saw Leo. There is so much that you’ve been questioning. Until recently you have just been counting the days down. It was a meaningless cycle. You knew that in the end you would be dead before you turned seventeen. You never cared either. Thankfully whatever deity that cursed you with this was kind enough to never make your deaths painful. You’d just fall asleep one night and wake up back at the beginning. As an infant.
Death was a part of your life, you’d long accepted that.
So why?
Why is this the first time that you felt regret at the thought of leaving without seeing Leonardo again. You barely knew him. Hell he’d threaten and kidnap you in your second meeting.
Yet..you can’t get rid of the thoughts, or feelings.
“Sweetheart?” Your head turns at the soft knock.
“Mom.” She steps inside with a smile, holding a sweater.
“You left it in the washer. I almost turned it pink. “ She hands you the white article of clothing.
“Thank you.” You fold it in your arms, eyes moving back to the window. She looks like she is about to leave you to your thoughts.
“Mom.” Her footsteps halt.
“Do..you believe in reincarnation?”
It’s stupid to even propose this question. You know for a fact that she already thinks you're unhinged in some kind of way. With the number of fights you’ve gotten into, it’s a miracle you haven’t been suspended.
“I do.” 
When you look at her, you aren’t sure what to expect.
“My grandmother used to tell me tales. As a child I suppose it felt ridiculous.” She takes a seat right next to you.
“I can’t say for sure if I’ve ever experienced such an occurrence in my life. It’s been said that most of us go through it without even knowing. But there were others that were able to retain memories of their pasts. Pieces of those lives. Because of the strain it has on their individual soul, their life spans were limited to the sixteenth year.” You’re a bit shocked. She just sends you a sad smile.
“When I first held you in my arms, I knew you were special. I just hoped that you were just a little, less…just for my sake..” 
You can see the build up of tears, and you reach for her. This entire time you’ve been shouldering your pain. When all along she knew. How many more of your past parents actually were aware? Had you been more trusting, maybe the last couple decades could have been easier.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, holding you tighter.
“Never apologize for being you. Never.”
You clutch unto her.
This entire timeline is far different, for once maybe you didn’t have to be alone.
~~~
“Waiting for ya girlfriend.”
Leo glares at Raph. who merely chuckles. When they’d completed the patrol, Leo fell back, and Raph didn’t pass up the opportunity to shoot a snarky remark.
“Ya been weird since that morning. Did she ask ya out? “
“Get going Raph.”
He didn’t say much more, just popped a toothpick in his mouth and followed his brothers with that stupid grin. Leo’s eyes moved back to the sky, following the patterns of the stars he could make out in the distance. He wasn’t sure what to make of your story. But aliens were real, so was something such as reincarnation so far-fetched?
Hell, he was living proof of something impossible. That added with the pain he could clearly see in your eyes. That was not an expression you could fake. He made a turn, heading for the edge as he jumped to the next building. A part of him felt like he needed to see you again.
Which was weird. At least for him.
Every surface his feet touch he can feel his heart beating faster.
“What am I doing?”
You weren’t a threat. So why was he still invested? At the start he spent some days just looking out. If anything but to keep his family safe. But in the past week you’d done nothing even relatively heinous.
However he’d heard the conversation with your mother, and the uncomfortable ache in his chest returned. He was protective by nature, so maybe that’s why he felt like he needed to help.
You had just under a year left.
He didn’t want you spending it filled with hate. 
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angelsdean · 1 year
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So this is bit random, a bit serendipitous but, I was very captivated by the charged moments in yesterday's Spirit of the West Daily, and the parallels between the huge forceful storm and the growing, overwhelming (and yet unidentified—at least by Dean) feelings between Dean and Cas. The recurring lighting strikes seeming to highlight the electricity between them, the way the storm itself moves them closer together, nature pushing them into a intimate space, giving them the opportunity to literally peel back layers and see more of each other than they have before, heightening those charged feelings and unknown desires.
And then this morning I was on the Poetry Foundation site looking for something else and saw an article on the home page with a header image of a horse and, with SOTW still on the brain, I was like Oh! Horse! What is this? So I read the article, which is about the poet Henri Cole's collection of sonnets (whose cover features the horse, and the horse recurs throughout many of the poems). The article explored Cole's use of the sonnet form and how the sonnet creates a space to explore unresolved questions and ideas.
Cole's central theme / question in many of his sonnets is between the push and pull of the self and the natural world and the self + desire.
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Which just got my brain making all sorts of associations and linking back to SOTW, especially that line: "framing the natural world as a portal to speak toward longing or yearning."
The storm is that portal. The storm is the visual representation of those charged and churning feelings.
I was already feeling queer feelings just reading some of the excerpts of Cole's poems in this article, like the one from the sonnet collection's titular poem, "Gravity and Center":
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(this poem also begins "I'm sorry I cannot say I love you when you say / you love me" which just. Destiel goggles on!)
Anyway, I wasn't familiar with Henri Cole before this and figured I'm just reading too much into some of these lines / had Destiel on the brain / + my own queer feelings.
but then,
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same-sex desires<3 I love when our hearts just match, when words just resonate, even before Knowing.
also these lines, definitely evoke images of John Winchester
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Lastly, I really loved this closing line from Cole about the writing process. Sometimes it is like that, indeed!
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Anyway, I am SO sorry for putting on my English Major hat here and writing a mini essay😅 but I thought the connections to nature and desire were interesting and maybe you (or anyone else reading this) might enjoy Cole's poetry if you aren't already familiar with it @urne-buriall
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