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studiojeon · 3 years ago

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use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | - Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee).

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed.

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish. “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes.

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better.

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you.

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face.

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly.

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips.

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way.

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion.

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on?

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week.

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker.

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way."

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while.

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either.

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out.

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside.

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you.

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know".

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right.

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?"

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though.

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t.

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

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racheloveyunho · 4 years ago

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Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

---------

5 years ago.

"Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

“Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

“Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath. I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’ I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

---------

This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

#choi san #san ateez #san #mafia ateez #mafia au #ateez scenario #ateez au #kpop #kpop mafia #ateez angst #ateez fluff #strangers to lovers #ateez series

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gubler-me-up · 4 years ago

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Perfectionism

Request: HELLOO, I’ve had an idea for literally months in my head but I wouldn’t be able to write it as good as you 🥺 Would you mind doing a Spencer reaction to his crush having bad body dysmorphia that they’ve been hiding from the team (they’re working for bau) but at a case or smn someone they’re interviewing comments negatively on their body and they break down once they think they’re alone? But Spence sees and reaches out and it’s really wholesome and soft? I’m a sucker for angsty fluff I’m sorry 😔

A/N: Thanks for the prompt anon, much appreciated! I hope this does justice to your well thought-out idea. I hope it satisfies all your angsty fluff needs! Side note, to everyone of my followers/readers I hope you know you’re beautiful and finding love/happiness within yourself takes time, but trust the process, loves ❤️ Enjoy!

Category: Angsty fluff

Content warning: Swearing, mention of violence, self degradation

Word count: 2.3k

---------------

You stood in front of the mirror inside the police department’s washroom. You finished applying another thick layer of foundation on your face. You knew applying this much makeup to your face wasn’t good. Your dermatologist even recommended against it and advised you to let your skin breathe for a while to prevent over clogging your pores. He didn’t understand the problem of doing that though.

Without the concealer masking the dark circles under your eyes, you’d probably look dead. Maybe even worse. Without the foundation, your acne and healing acne scars would definitely bring unwanted attention to your face. It was certain to happen.

You had to wear them all the time, especially at work. You thought of how JJ probably never had to go through this. Her face was free of any sort of marks or blemishes. She always looked alive with her bright blue eyes with no heavy bags insight. No wonder Spencer had a crush on her a few years back.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations of your phone on the bathroom counter. You looked down to see Spencer’s name pop up informing you it was time to interview the suspect. A sigh left your mouth as you started packing up your products into your travel beauty kit.

As you walked out of the door, you noticed Spencer at the end of the poorly lit hall leading back out to the main lobby. When he noticed you were walking down the hall towards him, he smiled and waved. Sometimes you thought he was the cutest genius in the world.

“Hey, didn’t know you were waiting for me,” you said.

He shrugged. “Thought it would be nice for us to walk to the interview room together.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He nodded as you both started walking towards the interview room. You couldn’t help noticing he kept on looking at you. Especially your face. What if he saw your acne scars? Or even the acne itself? What if he was just noticing how strange your face looked?

You stopped walking. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

He stopped walking as well as he gave you a questionable look. “What?”

“Is there a reason you keep looking at my face?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No, no reason, I just-”

“You just what?” You said before he even finished his sentence.

Spencer was taken back by your tone. Your words made it seem as if he was attacking you. You could tell from his confused facial expression. Before he could get a chance to pull his words together, you started walking again.

“Forget it. Let’s just focus on this interview.”

Spencer watched as you walked by him. He trailed behind you, trying his best not to say anything else. You knew you shouldn’t have snapped at him the way you did, but you couldn’t bear the possibility of him pointing out a flaw. You just knew he could see everything you tried so hard to hide.

As you two reached the interview room door you felt Spencer gently grab your arm. You turned to him to see how concerned he looked. Before you said anything he made sure to get the first few words out.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable back there. Whatever’s troubling you I’m here to help you get through it,” he assured you.

You smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate you, Spence. For now, let’s put what happened behind us for now and go interview this guy.”

Reid smiled as he gently squeezed your arm before letting you go. It felt nice having him reassure you, but he didn’t even know what he was reassuring you about. Maybe he didn’t notice your facial imperfections at all. Maybe he was genuinely admiring your face.

You opened up the interview room to see a dark-haired, middle-aged, white man sitting across the table. He was well put together with a buttoned-up blue shirt, black tie and his hair was slicked back. Physically he matched the profile perfectly. He looked as if he exuded arrogance as your profile detected the unsure would be like. He tried to keep a cool and emotionless demeanour, but by his furrowed eyebrows and wrinkling forehead, he was becoming impatient.

“Hello, I’m agent Y/N Y/L/N and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Adam Boyer, correct?” You said as you and Spencer took your seats.

“Glad you can read documents, agent,” he scoffed.

“I wouldn’t get so smart-mouthed yet, Boyer. According to some sketchy transactions between you, John McNeil and Robert Morrison it seems as if you have a lot to hide for someone so vocal,” you said.

He squinted his eyes at you. “What does this even have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but those two men are dead. You were the last person to contact both of them the day they died. A transaction of over half a million dollars goes missing and you get mad and-“

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, agent, but I didn’t murder my colleagues over money. My company makes more than that in a day, so spare me of your pathetic accusations.”

Before you could reply, Spencer jumped in to level out the tension between you and Boyer. He opened a file on the desk and pointed to a bank statement.

“It says here on your financial records your company is $1.5 million dollars in debt. We discovered Robert Morrison and John McNeil both gave you back their shares of the company to equate $500,000, which is legally a breach in the company’s contract for workers, including yourself, to share, distribute or give away company shares without a reasonable cause. According to the list of reasonable cause you failed to mention bankruptcy or were too arrogant at the time to force something like that happening to you,” Spencer said.

With everything he said, you could tell Boyer’s cool exterior was wearing off. He looked glossier in the face, started fidgeting with his tie and refused to look directly at Spencer. He decided to direct his attention to you instead.

“Well, isn’t that a huge mistake on my part, ain’t it?” He asked directly to you.

“Huge mistake or huge flaw in your plan of getting away with murdering your colleagues? I think it’s the second one, Boyer,” you said.

He leaned back in his chair without breaking any eye contact with you. He folded his hand in front of his chest. You had to admit he made your feel a bit uncomfortable.

“What else do you think?” He asked.

“I think you murdered your colleagues when they found out you had taken back their share of the company to pay back your debts. They would have ratted you out, got you fired from your own company or even worse, the whole company would have shut down and you’d have nothing left.”

“Nothing left,” Boyer said seemingly to himself.

“Yes, absolutely nothing. Your wife divorced you, took full custody of your two boys and now you spend your days throwing your money-approximately $1.5 million dollars-on trying to buy love from escorts,” you said.

It was as if something had woken up inside of him as he almost pounced across the table. Both you and Spencer got out of your seats with Spencer using his arm to block the front of you. It was as if it was a natural instinct for him to protect you before bracing himself.

“Sit down,” Spencer demanded.

“At least I have escorts willing to ride my dick. You couldn’t even pay a male stripper to look at that face of yours. Where’s the pretty agent who was in here before? If I’m going to be accused of a crime, I’d rather be accused by someone half decent looking. Get my fucking lawyer on the phone,” he proceeded to yell.

Though you shouldn’t have felt as bad as you did by the words he said, you did. The blunt force in his voice was vicious. The way he looked at you in disgust. His disgust was too real. He was bold enough to look at you the way everyone wanted to, but was too cautious to do it in front of your face.

“I’ll get your lawyer on the phone, you psycho,” you whispered before turning around to leave.

“Don’t forget to bring the real eye candy in as well, sweetheart,” he said.

You didn’t bother looking back at him or even Spencer. You felt your eyes get heavy with tears and knew it would be terrible to show weakness to such a vile suspect. You rushed out of the room before Spencer could stop you or even follow you close behind.

You rushed towards the washroom as your tears were at the brim of your eyes. As you reached the door, you paused. What if someone was in there? What if Emily or JJ saw you crying? You retracted your steps and decided to go to the family washroom instead.

You didn’t even wait until the door was fully closed before letting out your tears. You heavily wept to yourself as you replayed everything he had said to you. Spencer probably stood there agreeing with everything he said, word for word. Your face being hideous, JJ’s beauty surpassing the little you had, no one wanting you. You backed up against the wall to avoid the mirror, to avoid the disgusting reflection in the mirror.

The only reason you looked up was that you heard the washroom door open. You saw Spencer peak in. When he saw the tears running down your face, he didn’t hesitate to go over to you with concern written all over his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I hope he didn’t get to you,” he said as he reached out his hands.

You assumed he was going to try to wipe the tears from your face, so you pushed away his hands. You couldn’t stand the thought of him touching your face if he thought it was hideous. You didn’t even want him looking at you directly. You looked down to avoid your face being in the presence of his.

He attempted to lift your head up by placing his hand on your chin. You flinched at his touch and moved your head out of his grasp. New tears started to spill from your eyes as you looked at him with despair.

“Can you stop, Spencer?” You wept.

He looked at you confused. “Stop what?”

“Looking at me. I know my face is ugly, okay? Everyone knows and it’s just degrading for you to pretend not to notice,” you snapped at him.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with your face.”

“Spencer, I know you see it. My acne and acne scars. It doesn’t help that my face is always shiny and my cheeks are chubby. You don’t have to pretend to be blind to it for the sake of my feelings.”

“You thought I was looking at you earlier because you think I think you’re ugly? Y/N that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then why were you looking at me? Be honest.”

“Because I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Ugh, Spencer, you don-”

He grabbed both your hands in his big ones, grasping them tightly. You looked down at your hands in his and then looked up into his eyes. He looked longingly at you. You could see the genuine look of love in his face.

“Y/N, I know what you’re going through. Body dysmorphia’s not an easy thing to fight off by yourself, but I want to assure you every day that I think you’re the most beautiful person I know; both inside and out.”

You let out a deep breath as you felt round three of tears coming to your eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t think of a moment you felt genuinely pretty. His words could move mountains.

“But if Adam Boyer could-”

“Please don’t let a psychopath make you feel unsure of yourself. He only belittled you because he lost control of the situation and decided to target you. His idea of a perfect girl is someone he can dominate, which makes him disgusting not you.”

He let go of your right hand as he wiped away a tear making its way down your face. You grasped his left hand hard as he touched your face. It still made you feel uncomfortable, but you were happy Spencer cared deeply for you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched your face if you’re not comfortable with that yet. I know it takes time to breakdown this idea of what perfect is especially with so many beauty standards being pushed by society, but I’ll be here to help you realize you’re the most beautiful you. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way,” he said.

You smiled at his words as you wiped away the few stray tears running down your face. You had to admit you liked it better when he did it. You leaned your head back, took a deep breath, let it out and then looked at Spencer.

“Thank you for being you. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way as well,” you said.

He smiled. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. If you want me to be that is.”

“I do. I really do.”

“Maybe after we’re done with this case we can do something together to help you remember the beautiful person you are.”

“I’d love that.”

You both walked towards the washroom door. Spencer made sure not to let go of your hand until you two left the washroom. You felt as if he wanted you to grasp onto the positive energy he had for you. You felt uplifted in a way. This must be the benefit of the Spencer Reid effect.

—–

MASTERLIST

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mochegato · 4 years ago

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Nannyette

Chapter 2 – No Judging, Just Shipping

Chapter 1

“Sooooo,” Tim started. “You got a new babysitter.”

“Yeahhhh,” Dick prompted him to continue while he put together a meal for him to take to work.

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Tim asked cautiously.

Dick shrugged at him. “We needed someone and Alfred wasn’t available.”

“Where did you find her?” Tim asked, trying at a nonchalant tone.

“She lives next to another detective in my unit. She watches his kids a lot. He recommended her. She has a pretty busy schedule, but when you can get her, she’s great. And we’ve both done background checks on both her and her roommate. The roommate had a few concerning things pop up, but honestly less concerning than Steph. And Mar’i loves her already. We might have to ask Bruce to adopt her so we can make sure she’s around for a long time. She’s an adult and has parents, but still.”

“Well, she has the required features, black hair, blue eyes.” Tim muttered, not excited about the prospect.

“You noticed her eyes, huh?” Dick raised an amused brow at him.

“I’m a detective, of course I’ve noticed what color her eyes are.” Tim defended himself.

“And what else have you noticed?” Dick’s mouth curled up in a knowing smile. His eyes glinted with amusement.

“She’s French. She’s in college. She drives here. She’s creative. She has a lot of energy. She’s mischievous, but like a normal person not siren type mischievous. She’s sweet. She’s gorgeous. She isn’t quick to anger. She keeps a calm head in dangerous situations. She’s compassionate…” Tim rattled off refusing to look Dick in the eye.

“She’s gorgeous, huh?” Dick waggled his eyebrows at him.

“You don’t think she is?” Tim raised his own brow at Dick.

“I’m married and not stupid enough to answer that.” Dick gave him a pointed look. “But, more importantly, I’ve described her to several people and never felt the urge to use that descriptor. Not because it isn’t true, but because I just never thought about it.”

“Bullshit. You’re married not dead.” Tim scoffed at him.

“Okay fine.” Dick rolled his eyes. “It was just never significant to me when considering her. You however…”

“Shut up.” Tim grumbled looking down.

“Hey, I’m not judging. I’m shipping. I think you two would be great together and make adorable children.” Dick grinned mischievously at him. “So I’m more than willing to come up with all sorts of scenarios for you to be here when she is.” He suddenly turned serious. “But, only if she seems okay with it. If she starts acting uninterested, distant, hesitant, nervous, etc. it’s over. You don’t come near here when she is.”

“Agreed,” Tim nodded at him. A knock at the door saved Tim from having to listen to Dick list out his matchmaking plans. Tim let out a relieved breath. As much as he was interested in Marinette, Dick’s matchmaking mode was a bit much. It was best to avoid him during those times.

“Marinette!” Dick called out louder than necessary, shooting Tim a pointed grin. “Thanks for helping out today.”

“Of course. I’m so sorry for being late.”

“Not a problem at all. I know how busy you are. I’m just glad you are able to be here.”

Mar’i ran into the room. “Marinette! You’re here! Now we can play hide and seek.”

“Slow down, honey. Let Marinette get settled first.” Dick gently chastised her.

“It’s okay.” She assured him before kneeling down in front of Mar’i. “Mar’i, you go hide first and I’ll count.”

“Yay!” Mar’i ran off to find a place to hide.

Marinette took the time to take off her coat, hat, and gloves and set down her bag. “See, plenty of time.” She smiled reassuringly at him. “Sorry again for being so late. Things just kept running behind at school. It seemed like for every step forward I took two back.” She turned to Tim with a smile. “Good to see you again, Tim.”

Tim smiled nervously at her trying to decide if he should nod at her or shake her hand or do a la bise. They do that in France, right? “Yeah, you too.” He looked disappointingly at his hand when he realized his body apparently decided to wave awkwardly.

Dick stared at him dumbfounded for a few seconds before shaking himself out of it. “I hope you don’t mind Tim hanging around for a while. He’s wasting a bit of time here before he has a late meeting. He shouldn’t be in your way.”

“Not at all, but if you’re preparing for a meeting would you prefer if Mar’i and I did something a bit quieter in her room instead? There’s plenty we can do quietly.” Marinette looked at Tim with a concerned expression.

“No, no. I don’t need to prepare for it. I’m… um…” he glared at Dick for giving him that cover story. “I’m already prepared for it. This is more time for me to unwind.” He gave her a small smile.

“Oh good! Do you want to relax and watch something or did you want to play hide and seek with us? Next round of course.” Marinette looked at him with wide, excited eyes and Tim couldn’t answer for a few seconds. Dick had to elbow him lightly to bring him back into the conversation.

“Yes! Uh… yes. Sure. That would be fun.” Tim stuttered out.

“Mar’i is going to be so excited.” She turned away from them to loudly call out “30. Ready or not, here I come.”

As soon as she was out of the room Dick turned on Tim, “What was that? Do you need me to stay here and help?”

“No,” Tim hissed at him.

“Are you sure?” They heard Mar’i’s loud giggle even from the back room she must have been hiding in. Dick shook his head as he pulled on his coat. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.” He called out as he closed the door behind him. Tim glared at the closed door.

He ripped his gaze from the door when Marinette came back into the room carrying Mar’i on her hip. “Tim wants to play with us too this time. What do you think? Should he be a hider or a seeker?”

“A seeker. You have to count to thirty Uncle Tim. Can you count to thirty? I can help if you need help.”

Tim smiled at her. “Thank you so much. I think I can count to 30 this time so you can hide. Maybe you can help me next time and we can both seek Marinette together.”

“Yeah! But I want to hide this time.” Mar’i suddenly took on a serious look.

Tim matched her expression. “Okay. I’m going to start counting. You guys go hide.”

Mar’i squealed and pulled on Marinette. “Let’s go. Let’s hide together.”

“Okay, let’s go.” They ran out of the room, but Marinette threw him a grateful smile before she disappeared.

Tim gave them a full minute before starting to seek them. “Ready or not, here I come!” He called out before making his way through the rooms. “Is anyone hiding here?” He called out loudly before looking behind the most likely and unlikely spots. “Is anyone hiding under the table?” “Is anyone hiding under the couch?” He could hear Mar’i giggling from a room further back, but kept up the production of searching for her.

He was about to pretend to look through Dick’s room when he literally ran into Marinette backing out of his room. She was apparently very distracted because she didn’t even notice him walking up behind her. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet. Quite the contrary, he was intentionally trying to be as loud as possible for Mar’i.

When he touched her she shrieked and jumped. She bumped into a dresser and in turning away from it, she started to fall. Tim jumped to get her but his foot slipped on a stuffie that was left on the floor. Tim grabbed her as he fell and twisted them so he would be the one to hit the ground instead of her. Marinette, anticipating the hit wrapped her arms around his head to protect it and buried her head in his neck.

As soon as they landed, Marinette pulled back to look at him, her eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Her arms were still wrapped around his head until she got his confirmation, which didn’t give them much space. Her face was so close Tim could smell the strawberries she must have eaten before she came over.

Tim stared at her a bit dazed, which only increased the concern in her eyes. “I’m fine,” he assured her breathlessly. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“No, no. It was my fault. I was a little distracted and… I’m always jumpy and madly clumsy anyway. I fall so often. I’m so sorry.” She shook her head to emphasize her point, her nose almost touching his as she did.

“So it wasn’t just my good looks that got you falling for me twice now?” Tim asked with a smirk. As soon as the words left his mouth he froze and Marinette’s eyes widened.

“I won!” Mar’i called from her spot on top of a tall armoire. “You found Marinette first. I won! I won!”

Marinette seemed to shake herself out of her stupor and turned to Mar’i with a quivering smile. “You sure did,” she confirmed, her voice suddenly shaky. She turned back to Tim, her mouth only just missing his. Her eyes widened again as she finally realized how close they were. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed as she pulled back to sit up. She yanked her arms back, causing Tim’s head to lightly thump on the ground. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. That’s what I was trying to avoid. I’m sorry. Is your head okay?”

Tim chuckled lightly and propped himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was a light tap, nothing more. I give myself worse at the office.”

Marinette looked at him uncertainly but nodded to him. She turned back up to Mar’i. “How did you get up there anyway?”

Mar’i opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes flicked over to Tim and closed her mouth instead. Tim answered instead. “She’s good at getting to high places.”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m sure she is,” she muttered under her breath.

“What?” Tim asked her curiously.

Marinette turned back to him, trying to figure out how to explain her suspicions without admitting her suspicions. She looked down to think and noticed her position. She was no longer nose to nose with Tim, but when she pushed herself up from him, she positioned herself to straddle him.

Marinette squeaked and scrambled off of him. “I AM SO SORRY,” she rushed out mortified, her cheeks reddening. “That was so inappropriate. I am so very sorry. I didn’t notice until just then.”

Tim shook his head, his face turning red as well. “No, it’s okay. You…” he just barely stopped himself from finishing his sentence with ‘can be inappropriate with my anytime you want.’ He’d already used one excessively flirty line in the last few minutes without knowing if it was reciprocated. “It was an accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. If I had been offended I would have said something.” He assured her instead.

The words helped, but Marinette’s face was still bright red. Mar’i watched them curiously and focused on Marinette. “That is so cool! Mommy’s face looks orange, but you made your entire face red, Marinette!”

Marinette groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Thank you, Mar’i. That was a very good observation.” She mumbled out. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing her face to return to a normal color and refusing to look Tim in the eye. “Let’s get you down from there, yeah?”

Chapter 3

Tags:

@timari-month-event

#maribat #Nannyette #timari #timinette #Timari January #prompt - Children

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monotonous-minutia · 3 years ago

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Brief history of Les contes d’Hoffmann edits (the short short version) + Summaries!

Kudos to anyone who gets through all of this, but I recommend at least reading the first part if you plan on watching this opera next week for Operablr Pride Month. It will help you find/choose a version to watch!

For the differences in the summaries to make sense, we need a little background info.

The very very very short version of why there are so many edits:

Offenbach died before he could finish the score. Most of the prologue, Olympia, and Antonia acts were done; the Giulietta act and the Epilogue were not, which is why those are the parts that vary the most across the different edits. Additionally, much of the material that varies belongs to Nicklausse/the Muse. The reason for this is that the mezzo in this role cancelled last minute, and the replacement didn’t have time to learn the entire role before the performance, so the Muse monologues, Violin Aria, and much of Nicklausse’s dialogue were cut; the ending monologue was replaced with spoken speech. Since the premiere—which is another story for another time—several conductors, directors, and music scholars have attempted to reconstruct the opera based on Offenbach’s drafts and notes, and in some cases their personal preferences. Additional shoutout to good old Guiraud, who finished a lot of the orchestration that Offenbach didn’t get to, which is some of the only stuff to survive most edits.

Also, I should say: apparently in addition to there being no definitive edition of this opera, there’s no definitive history either. I swear every book/article I read about it says something different so this is the best I could do. So if there are any inaccuracies, apologies in advance.

Now there are a lot of people that have tinkered with this opera, but there are a few main ones that compiled what are dubbed “critical editions,” because they did a bunch of research and a lot of people end up using edits based on what they did.

In chronological order, those critical edits are:

Choudens: The shortest version, and one most people are familiar with.

Oeser (1): Longer with a lot of missing material added, also fairly well-known.

Oeser (2): Even longer with a ton of new stuff added! (My personal fave but pretty rare)

Kaye/Keck: Uses some of the material rediscovered by Oeser, but also adds a ton of other stuff, particularly in the Giulietta act, as well as re-orchestrating significant portions. Not many of these either.

and apparently there’s another one called “OG Offenbach” or something like that but as far as I can tell there haven’t been any recordings of it or much about what it looks like, but from what I gather it’s fairly similar to that last one, with some adjustments based on yet more new-old material discovered.

And, of course, every single production I’ve ever seen/heard puts its own spin on things! So while most have the general formats as seen below, literally no two are exactly alike.

A bit more detail on the versions:

Choudens

This is one of the first people to edit the material after it was butchered for the world premiere. It’s the short version of the opera with the most material missing, though to be fair he did improve upon what it had been before. His is (unfortunately) the edit most people are familiar with:

Prologue: Chorus of Spirits of wine and beer. Lindorf monologues about stealing Stella from Hoffmann. Students party in the tavern and ask Hoffmann to tell a stoy; he sings the famous "Ballad of Klein-Zach." When taunted by Lindorf about his love life, Hoffmann decides to tell everyone the tales of his Three Great Loves. Act I: Olympia. Hoffmann is in love with the “daughter” of Spalanzani, his science professor, unaware that she is a robot. Coppélius sells Hoffmann magic glasses that make him believe Olympia is a real human, despite Nicklausse's insistence that she is a mechanical doll. Olympia is presented to the guests at her coming-out party; they marvel over her. Hoffmann serenades her and dances with her, but Coppélius arrives to take her apart, and Hoffmann realizes he’s been in love with a robot the whole time. Act II: Giulietta. Choudens put the Giluietta act second instead of Antonia. At a party, Nicklausse and Giulietta sing the famous Barcarolle; Hoffmann counters with an aria about how love is futile. Nicklausse tries to warn Hoffmann to be careful of Giulietta's lover, Schlémil, but Hoffmann of course does not listen. Dapertutto arrives and makes a deal with Giulietta to trick Hoffmann. Giulietta seduces Hoffmann and steals his reflection. When Hoffmann realizes his reflection is gone, we get the famous Septet (the only thing I’m grateful to Choudens for). Afterwards, Hoffmann kills Schlémil to get the key to Giulietta’s room, but Giulietta leaves with Pitichinaccio instead. Act III: Antonia. The singer Antonia is sick and it’s her singing that is killing her. Hoffmann, who’s been looking for her for months after Antonia and her father moved specifically so he couldn’t find them, has finally found her. They promise to run away and get married, but before they can, Dr. Miracle forces Antonia to sing until she literally dies. Epilogue: Hoffmann has finished his stories. Nicklausse makes the connection that all three ladies are actually metaphors for the real-life Stella. Hoffmann yells at him. Stella walks in on a drunk Hoffmann who mistakes her for his lovers; she leaves in a huff with Lindorf. Nicklausse reveals his identity as the Muse (in spoken dialogue) and asks for Hoffmann’s devotion. Hoffmann gets a reprise of his Giulietta act aria, but this time committing himself to the Muse and his art.

Oeser (1)

This one, which is also very common, isn’t Oeser’s *actual* edit but combines his with the Choudens one, so it has a lot more material than the previous one, but not as much as the longer Oeser version.

Prologue: Very similar to Choudens except we get the Muse’s opening monologue explaining their motivations (winning Hoffmann and saving him from Stella) before the rest of the action. Act I: Olympia. Pretty much the same but sometimes Nicklausse gets a different aria. Act II: Antonia (which here comes before Giulietta). Almost exactly the same as Choudens’, but Nicklausse gets to sing a lovely aria about love and art which is really a love song for Hoffmann. Act III: Giulietta. Pretty much the same, except it’s the third act instead of the second act. Epilogue: Starts pretty much the same, until the Hoffmann/Stella confrontation which is now put to music. Then we get a reprise of Klein-Zach followed by the drinking chorus, after which the Muse reappears. The opera ends with the Muse’s closing monologue and chorus about how Hoffmann’s suffering will make him a greater artist.

Oeser (2)

Pretty similar to the short Oeser version described above. The most dramatic changes are really just in the Giulietta act, though there’s some extra material in Olympia too (that one waltzy duet I’m always gushing about) and sometimes more sung material for the Muse in the epilogue as well. Oeser’s longer Giluietta act: Has the same basic plot points, except instead of going right from Dapertutto making the deal with Giulietta to Giulietta seducing Hoffmann, we get a gambling scene where Giulietta serenades the guests as they play cards, during which each of the characters gets a little moment. Then Giulietta leaves and Hoffmann follows her, and she sings sadly about her dismal situation which leads into her seduction of Hoffmann, and the rest of the act ends pretty much the same, except sometimes there’s no Septet.

Now, on to possibly the wildest of them all:

Kaye/Kecke

This one is rare; there’s only a few recordings that even attempt it, and very few get it to the letter of what these two scholars compiled. Once again, most of the changes are in the Giulietta act and Epilogue; the only real changes in the previous acts are in the orchestration of some parts. Kaye Giulietta Act: Starts pretty much the same, with the Barcarolle and Hoffmann’s derisive aria, and Dapertutto making the deal with Giulietta. We get a gambling scene here too, but it’s not as long or dramatic and Giulietta gets a different aria. Hoffmann kills Schlémil for the same reasons, but it happens before Giulietta steals his reflection; essentially she’s bribing him before she pretends to fall in love with him. Hoffmann gets in trouble for killing Schlémil, and in a fit of rage tries to kill Giulietta, but kills Pitichinaccio instead. Kaye Epilogue: It starts with a chorus for the students kinda trying to talk Hoffmann down from his crazy stories. We get the same Nicklausse-Hoffmann confrontation, and the one with Stella, and a reprise of Klein-Zach, but in addition to the drinking chorus repeating we get a kind of ominous reprise of the “Glou! Glou!” chorus from the prologue, after which the Muse enters and we get the same ending monologue but it’s got some extra pieces.

So the short short version ended up pretty long huh? Anyway, I hope it's helpful!

If you want more detailed summaries to follow along with when you watch the opera, see below!

More detailed summaries!

Choudens

Choudens is one of the the first critical edits of the opera and, despite the fact that it’s been discredited multiple times, is still inexplicably used a lot and is what a lot of people think of when they think of this opera.

Prologue We open in Luther's Tavern. A chorus of the Spirits of Wine and Beer sing out. The Councilor Lindorf comes in and bribes Andrès, a tavern employee, into giving him a letter from Stella, an actress, that’s addressed to Hoffmann. Lindorf reads the letter, in which Stella has included the key to her room and invites Hoffmann to join her after her performance that evening. Lindorf keeps the letter and key for himself. A group of students arrive in the tavern and sing a rousing drinking chorus. After a bit they notice Hoffmann isn’t there yet and demand to know where he is. Luther, the tavern's owner, tells them Hoffmann is on his way, along with his friend Nicklausse. The pair enter and take a seat. Hoffmann is melancholy and brooding, which prompts the students to ask him for a jovial song to lighten the mood. Hoffmann then sings the famous “Ballad of Klein-Zach.” But in the middle of the song, he gets distracted by memories of Stella. The students bring him back to reality and he finishes the song, but the talk of love brings it up as a topic of conversation. Hoffmann declares “The devil take me if I were ever to fall in love!” At this point Lindorf makes his presence known, sneering at Hoffmann. The two of them then get into a battle of words, during which Hoffmann inadvertently admits that he is, in fact, in love with someone. Curious, the students ask him for the story of his love. Hoffmann declares that he has had not one but three mistresses: an artist, a young girl, and a courtesan. He then begins to tell his tales. Act I: Olympia. Hoffmann goes to visit his science professor, Spalanzani, to declare his devotion to science. Spalanzani commends him, then leaves to prepare for his “daughter” Olympia’s coming-out party. Hoffmann admits his love for Olympia and gazes at her through a window. Nicklausse arrives and gently teases him about his love, singing a song about a mechanical doll and bird. Hoffmann brushes him off. Coppélius, an eccentric saleman, enters and displays his various wares, including a variety of contraptions but primarily eyes. He manages to get Hoffmann interested in a pair of magical glasses, which Hoffmann then purchases and wears for the remainder of the act. Spalanzani returns and gets into an argument with Coppélius about Olympia; Coppélius wants a share since she has his eyes. Spalanzani decides to pay Coppélius with a check that he mentions in an aside he knows will bounce. Coppélius tells Spalanzani that he should get Hoffmann to marry Olympia as a joke. Spalanzani agrees, and Coppélius leaves. Cochenille, Spalazani's assistant, announces the arrival of the guests. A chorus of people arrive, admiring Spalanzani’s skills as a host. Spalanzani introduces Olympia to the guests, who marvel over her perfection. Olympia sings a charming songs about birds and love. Hoffmann's new glasses make him see Olympia as a real person rather than the robot she actually is, and he is captivated. After Olympia’s song, the guests leave to go to dinner, but Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to stay behind with Olympia. Hoffmann professes his love for Olympia, who responds only with “Yes” when Hoffmann touches her shoulder (he doesn’t know he’s actually triggering a button that makes her say that word). When he goes to embrace her, Olympia runs off. Nicklausse returns, telling Hoffmann to be wary, because everything is not as it seems; Hoffmann brushes him off yet again. They leave to join the other guests. Coppélius enters, furious with Spalanzani for giving him a faulty check. He swears revenge and runs off. The guests return for dancing. Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to dance with Olympia. During the dance, Olympia goes haywire and rushes offstage, pursued by Cochenille. In the process, Hoffmann’s glasses are broken. Cochenille rushes back onstage, crying out that Coppélius has Olympia; Spalanzani rushes to her aid, only to find Coppélius with the robot in pieces. They return holding parts of the broken doll, and Hoffmann, his magical glasses now broken, finally sees Olympia for what she truly is and is

humiliated. Act II: Giulietta (Choudens is the only edit that has Giulietta second instead of third) Venice. The courtesan Giulietta is having a party of sorts. She and Nicklausse sing the famous Barcarolle. Afterwards Hoffmann mocks them with a song of his own condemning love and romance. Schlémil, who is in love with Giulietta, enters and makes it clear he is suspicious of Hoffmann when Giulietta introduces him. Giulietta then leads her guests out to play cards. Hoffmann is about to follow when Nicklausse takes him aside, warning him against Giulietta and asking him to leave. Hoffmann says there’s no way he could fall for someone like Giulietta, and if he does, may the devil take him! (He really needs to stop saying that.) After Hoffmann and Nicklausse leave to play cards with the others, the Captain Dapertutto comes in, announcing he plans to thwart Hoffmann with the help of Giulietta. He attracts the courtesan with a diamond (and a deceptively pretty aria) and tells her she needs to steal Hoffmann’s reflection for him. Giulietta agrees to do so in exchange for the diamond. Hoffmann returns and Dapertutto leaves. Giulietta seduces Hoffmann, who serenades her with a fairly famous aria that gets reprised later for a different reason (keep an eye out for that). Knowing she has him on the hook, Giulietta demands his fidelity—and his reflection. Helpless against her charms, Hoffmann agrees to both. Schlémil, Dapertutto, and Nicklausse return. Giulietta tells Hoffmann that Schlémil has the key to her room, and if Hoffmann can retrieve it, she’ll meet him there later. Dapertutto taunts Hoffmann, who looks in a mirror to find that his reflection is gone. Nicklausse begs him to leave but Hoffmann refuses, still clinging to the hope that Giulietta actually loves him. However she only mocks him, and he despairs, starting everyone off in the famous Septet (or "Sextet and Chorus"). Giulietta leads everyone back to the party, except Schlémil, who challenges Hoffmann to a duel. Hoffmann kills Schlémil and takes the key. He rushes to find Giulietta, only to see her riding off in a gondola with her real lover Piticchinaccio, both of whom are laughing at his expense. Nicklausse tells Hoffmann the police are coming to look for Schlémil’s murderer, and finally drags him away. Act III: Antonia Crespel’s house. Antonia laments the death of her mother and her separation from her lover, Hoffmann. Her father, Crespel, enters and reminds her not to sing, lest she die from it like her mother did. Antonia promises him she won’t sing anymore and leaves sadly. Crespel asks his servant Frantz to watch the door and make sure no one comes in. Frantz, who is partially deaf, only half-understands him. Crespel expresses frustration at this and leaves. Frantz remarks in a fun little number that if only he had some talents—like singing or dancing—maybe his boss would appreciate him more. Hoffmann enters with Nicklausse; they have been travelling for weeks looking for Antonia after she moved away without a word. Hoffmann asks Frantz to find Antonia for him. When the servant leaves to do so, Hoffmann begins to sing a song that he and Antonia wrote. Antonia hears him and rushes to meet him; Nicklausse exits quietly. Hoffmann and Antonia rejoice over their reunion and pledge to get married. Hoffmann expresses concern over Antonia’s insistence to sing despite her ill health. Antonia convinces him to sing their song together, which they do. Afterwards Antonia becomes tired. Before Hoffmann can react, they hear Crespel coming. Antonia flees, but Hoffmann remains, hiding so he can eavesdrop on Crespel. Frantz returns and tells Crespel that Dr. Miracle is here, having misunderstood Crespel’s command to not let anyone in. Dr. Miracle enters, asking to see Antonia. Crespel refuses and tells him to leave, saying that his faulty medicine is what killed Antonia's mother. Dr. Miracle, however, remains, and pantomimes an interaction with Antonia where he checks her pulse and orders her to sing. Offstage, Antonia responds with a scale. Dr. Miracle tells Crespel that

Antonia is dangerously ill, and gives him

two vials of medicine that he says will cure her. Crespel refuses them, calling the doctor a murderer and chasing him out. Hoffmann comes out of hiding, stunned by this encounter. Antonia returns and asks Hoffmann what her father said, thinking that he and Hoffmann had been talking this entire time. Hoffmann, disturbed by what he’s seen and heard, makes Antonia promise not to sing. She agrees, but when Hoffmann leaves (promising to return for her later) she laments that Hoffmann is now on her father’s side about her singing. Dr. Miracle returns as a disembodied voice, taunting Antonia. Why should she give up singing just because her father and Hoffmann tell her to? Doesn’t she want to be a great singer like her mother? When Antonia rebuffs him, Dr. Miracle calls on the spirit of Antonia’s dead mother, who leads Antonia in a frantic refrain. Antonia, exhausted by the singing, collapses. Crespel rushes in to see his daughter dying on the floor. She tells him she sees her mother, then sings a part of her and Hoffmann’s song, before dying in her father’s arms. Hoffmann rushes in just in time to see Dr. Miracle pronounce Antonia dead. Epilogue Back at the tavern, Hoffmann finishes his tales. Offstage, cheers and applause are heard for Stella as her performance comes to an end. Nicklausse announces a revelation—all of Hoffmann’s lovers in his stories are just manifestations of his real love for a single woman, Stella. Furious, Hoffmann shouts Nicklausse down, then deliriously leads a reprise of the drinking chorus. Stella enters looking for Hoffmann, only to find him dead drunk. He mistakes her for his three fictional loves, then rejects her. Offended, Stella leaves with Lindorf. The students all leave and Hoffmann is alone with Nicklausse, who reveals himself to be the Muse of Poetry. The Muse declares her devotion to Hoffmann and asks for his in return. Hoffmann, hearing this, repeats his song from the Giulietta act, this time declaring his love for the Muse and promising to return to his art.

Oeser (1)

The short Oeser version is the other Most Commonly Seen edit (I think it’s about a tie). It's similar to the Choudens edit in many ways, with some significant additions, which are in blue below: Prologue We open in Luther's Tavern. A chorus of the Spirits of Wine and Beer sing out. The Muse emerges from a barrel, declaring her love for Hoffmann and determination to rid him of Stella, the “siren” who has stolen his attention (and affection). She tells the audience that she will disguise herself as Nicklausse, Hoffmann’s friend, in order to try one last time to win him tonight. The Councilor Lindorf comes in and bribes Andrès, a tavern employee, into giving him a letter from Stella, an actress, that’s addressed to Hoffmann. Lindorf reads the letter, in which Stella has included the key to her room and invites Hoffmann to join her after her performance that evening. Lindorf keeps the letter and key for himself. A group of students arrive in the tavern and sing a rousing drinking chorus. After a bit they notice Hoffmann isn’t there yet and demand to know where he is. Luther, the tavern's owner, tells them Hoffmann is on his way, along with Nicklausse. The pair enter and take a seat. Hoffmann is melancholy and brooding, which prompts the students to ask him for a jovial song to lighten the mood. Hoffmann then sings the famous “Ballad of Klein-Zach.” But in the middle of the song, he gets distracted by memories of Stella. The students bring him back to reality and he finishes the sing, but the talk of love brings it up as a topic of conversation. Hoffmann declares “The devil take me if I were ever to fall in love!” At this point Lindorf makes his presence known, sneering at Hoffmann. The two of them then get into a battle of words, during which Hoffmann inadvertently admits that he is, in fact, in love with someone. Curious, the students ask him for the story of his love. Hoffmann declares that he has had not one but three mistresses: an artist, a young girl, and a courtesan. He then begins to tell his tales. Act I: Olympia Hoffmann goes to visit his science professor, Spalanzani, to declare his devotion to science. Spalanzani commends him, then leaves to prepare for his “daughter” Olympia’s coming-out party. Hoffmann admits his love for Olympia and gazes at her through a window. Nicklausse arrives and gently teases him about his love, singing a song about a mechanical doll and bird (sometimes it’s changed to a more mocking song specifically referencing Olympia). Hoffmann brushes him off. Coppélius, an eccentric salesman, enters and attempts to sell Hoffmann and Nicklausse a variety or contraptions; Hoffmann and Nicklausse bicker over whether or not to engage with the salesman. Coppélius manages to get Hoffmann interested in a pair of magical glasses, which Hoffmann then purchases and wears for the remainder of the act. Spalanzani returns and gets into an argument with Coppélius about Olympia; Coppélius wants a share since she has his eyes. Spalanzani decides to pay Coppélius with a check that he mentions in an aside he knows will bounce. Coppélius tells Spalanzani that he should get Hoffmann to marry Olympia as a joke. Spalanzani agrees, and Coppélius leaves. Cochenille, Spalanzani's assistant, announces the arrival of the guests. A chorus of people arrive, admiring Spalanzani’s skills as a host. Spalanzani introduces Olympia to the guests, who marvel over her perfection. Olympia sings a charming songs about birds and love. Hoffmann's new glasses make him see Olympia as a real person rather than the robot she actually is, and he is captivated. After Olympia’s song, the guests leave to go to dinner, but Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to stay behind with Olympia. Hoffmann professes his love for Olympia, who responds only with “Yes” when Hoffmann touches her shoulder (he doesn’t know he’s actually triggering a button that makes her say that word). When he goes to embrace her, Olympia runs off. Nicklausse returns, telling Hoffmann to be wary, because everything is not as it seems; Hoffmann brushes him off yet again. They leave to

join the other guests. Coppélius enters, furious with Spalanzani for giving him a faulty check. He swears revenge and runs off. The guests return for dancing. Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to dance with Olympia. During the dance, Olympia goes haywire and rushes offstage, pursued by Cochenille. In the process, Hoffmann’s glasses are broken. Cochenille rushes back onstage, crying out that Coppélius has Olympia; Spalanzani rushes to her aid, only to find Coppélius with the robot in pieces. They return holding parts of the broken doll, and Hoffmann, his magical glasses now broken, finally sees Olympia for who she truly is and is humiliated. Act II: Antonia (When Oeser made his edit, he rearranged the acts to their original order, placing Antonia before Giulietta.) Crespel’s house. Antonia laments the death of her mother and her separation from her lover, Hoffmann. Her father, Crespel, enters and reminds her not to sing, lest she die from it like her mother did. Antonia promises him she won’t sing anymore and leaves sadly. Crespel asks his servant Frantz to watch the door and make sure no one comes in. Frantz, who is partially deaf, only half-understands him. Crespel expresses frustration at this and leaves. Frantz remarks in a fun little number that if only he had some talents—like singing or dancing—maybe his boss would appreciate him more. Hoffmann enters with Nicklausse; they have been travelling for weeks looking for Antonia after she moved away without a word. Hoffmann asks Frantz to go find Antonia for him. While Hoffmann expresses his joy over being reunited with Antonia, Nicklausse tries to temper his excitement with a reality check, which Hoffmann brushes off (he does this a lot). Nicklausse then sings a lovely song about the power of art and love (which is really a love song for Hoffmann), but once again Hoffmann ignores him. Hoffmann begins to sing a song that he and Antonia wrote. Antonia hears him and rushes to meet him; Nicklausse exits quietly. Hoffmann and Antonia rejoice over their reunion and pledge to get married. Hoffmann expresses concern over Antonia’s insistence to sing despite her ill health. Antonia convinces him to sing their song together, which they do. Afterwards Antonia becomes tired. Before Hoffmann can react, they hear Crespel coming. Antonia flees, but Hoffmann remains, hiding so he can eavesdrop on Crespel. Frantz returns and tells Crespel that Dr. Miracle is here, having misunderstood Crespel’s command to not let anyone in. Dr. Miracle enters, asking to see Antonia. Crespel refuses and tells him to leave, saying that his faulty medicine is what killed Antonia's mother. Dr. Miracle, however, remains, and pantomimes an interaction with Antonia where he checks her pulse and orders her to sing. Offstage, Antonia responds with a scale. Dr. Miracle tells Crespel that Antonia is dangerously ill, and gives him two vials of medicine that he says will cure her. Crespel refuses them, calling the doctor a murderer and chasing him out. Hoffmann comes out of hiding, stunned by this encounter. Antonia returns and asks Hoffmann what her father said, thinking that he and Hoffmann had been talking this entire time. Hoffmann, disturbed by what he’s seen and heard, makes Antonia promise not to sing. She agrees, but when Hoffmann leaves (promising to return for her later) she laments that Hoffmann is now on her father’s side about her singing. Dr. Miracle returns as a disembodied voice, taunting Antonia. Why should she give up singing just because her father and Hoffmann tell her to? Doesn’t she want to be a great singer like her mother? When Antonia rebuffs him, Dr. Miracle calls on the spirit of Antonia’s dead mother, who leads Antonia in a frantic refrain. Antonia, exhausted by the singing, collapses. Crespel rushes in to see his daughter dying on the floor. She tells him she sees her mother, then sings a part of her and Hoffmann’s song, before dying in her father’s arms. Hoffmann rushes in just in time to see Dr. Miracle pronounce Antonia dead. Act III: Giulietta Venice. The courtesan Giulietta is having a

party of sorts. She and Nicklausse sing the famous Barcarolle. Afterwards Hoffmann mocks them with a song of his own condemning love and romance. Schlémil, who is in love with Giulietta, enters and makes it clear he is suspicious of Hoffmann when Giulietta introduces him. Giulietta then leads her guests out to play cards. Hoffmann is about to follow when Nicklausse takes him aside, warning him against Giulietta and asking him to leave. Hoffmann says there’s no way he could fall for someone like Giulietta, and if he does, may the devil take him! (He really needs to stop saying that.) After Hoffmann and Nicklausse leave to play cards with the others, the Captain Dapertutto comes in, announcing he plans to thwart Hoffmann with the help of Giulietta. He attracts the courtesan with a diamond (and a deceptively pretty aria) and tells her she needs to steal Hoffmann’s reflection for him. Giulietta agrees to do so in exchange for the diamond. Hoffmann returns and Dapertutto leaves. Giulietta seduces Hoffmann, who serenades her with a fairly famous aria. Knowing she has him on the hook, Giulietta demands his fidelity—and his reflection. Helpless against her charms, Hoffmann agrees to both. Schlémil, Dapertutto, and Nicklausse return. Giulietta tells Hoffmann that Schlémil has the key to her room, and if Hoffmann can retrieve it, she’ll meet him there later. Dapertutto taunts Hoffmann, who looks in a mirror to find that his reflection is gone. Nicklausse begs him to leave but Hoffmann refuses, still clinging to the hope that Giulietta actually loves him. However she only mocks him, and he despairs, starting everyone off in the famous Septet (or Sextet and Chorus). Giulietta leads everyone back to the party, except Schlémil, who challenges Hoffmann to a duel. Hoffmann kills Schlémil and takes the key. He rushes to find Giulietta, only to see her riding off in a gondola with her real lover Piticchinaccio, both of whom are laughing at his expense. Nicklausse tells Hoffmann the police are coming to look for Schlémil’s murderer, and finally drags him away. Epilogue Back at the tavern, Hoffmann finishes his tales. Offstage, cheers and applause are heard for Stella as her performance comes to an end. Nicklausse announces a revelation—all of Hoffmann’s lovers in his stories are just manifestations of his real love for a single woman, Stella. Furious, Hoffmann shouts Nicklausse down, then deliriously leads a reprise of the drinking chorus. Stella enters looking for Hoffmann. Nicklausse exits, telling Hoffmann it’s time for him to choose. Hoffmann drunkenly mistakes Stella for his three fictional loves, then rejects her. Offended, Stella leaves with Lindorf. Hoffmann begins to sing his Klein-Zach song before falling in despair. The students exit the tavern, singing their song once again and leaving Hoffmann alone. Nicklausse returns and reveals his identity as the Muse, serenading Hoffmann with a comforting refrain: love makes a man great, but tears make him greater still—his suffering is not in vain, but will make him an even greater artist.

Oeser (2)

The long Oeser version (my personal favorite) follows the short one fairly closely; most of the major revisions are in the Giulietta act. This one is pretty rare—I’ve only found one video (which is a terrible production unfortunately) and one audio recording (which is the greatest audio recording of this opera that currently exists). New material in green text:

Prologue We open in Luther's Tavern. A chorus of the Spirits of Wine and Beer sing out. The Muse emerges from a barrel, declaring her love for Hoffmann and determination to rid him of Stella, the “siren” who has stolen his attention (and affection). She tells the audience that she will disguise herself as Nicklausse, Hoffmann’s friend, in order to try one last time to win him tonight. The Councilor Lindorf comes in and bribes Andrès, a tavern employee, into giving him a letter from Stella, an actress, that’s addressed to Hoffmann. Lindorf reads the letter, in which Stella has included the key to her room and invites Hoffmann to join her after her performance that evening. Lindorf keeps the letter and key for himself. A group of students arrive in the tavern and sing a rousing drinking chorus. After a bit they notice Hoffmann isn’t there yet and demand to know where he is. Luther, the tavern's owner, tells them Hoffmann is on his way, along with Nicklausse. The pair enter and take a seat. Hoffmann is melancholy and brooding, which prompts the students to ask him for a jovial song to lighten the mood. Hoffmann then sings the famous “Ballad of Klein-Zach.” But in the middle of the song, he gets distracted by memories of Stella. The students bring him back to reality and he finishes the sing, but the talk of love brings it up as a topic of conversation. Hoffmann declares “The devil take me if I were ever to fall in love!” At this point Lindorf makes his presence known, sneering at Hoffmann. The two of them then get into a battle of words, during which Hoffmann inadvertently admits that he is, in fact, in love with someone. Curious, the students ask him for the story of his love. Hoffmann declares that he has had not one but three mistresses: an artist, a young girl, and a courtesan. He then begins to tell his tales. Act I: Olympia Hoffmann goes to visit his science professor, Spalanzani, to declare his devotion to science. Spalanzani commends him, then leaves to prepare for his “daughter” Olympia’s coming-out party. Hoffmann admits his love for Olympia and gazes at her through a window. Nicklausse arrives and gently teases him about his love, singing a song about a mechanical doll and bird (sometimes it’s changed to a more mocking song specifically referencing Olympia). Hoffmann brushes him off. Coppélius, an eccentric salesman, enters and attempts to sell Hoffmann and Nicklausse a variety or contraptions; Hoffmann and Nicklausse bicker over whether or not to engage with the salesman. Coppélius manages to get Hoffmann interested in a pair of magical glasses, which Hoffmann then purchases and wears for the remainder of the act. Spalanzani returns and gets into an argument with Coppélius about Olympia; Coppélius wants a share since she has his eyes. Spalanzani decides to pay Coppélius with a check that he mentions in an aside he knows will bounce. Coppélius tells Spalanzani that he should get Hoffmann to marry Olympia as a joke. Spalanzani agrees, and Coppélius leaves. Cochenille, Spalanzani's assistant, announces the arrival of the guests. A chorus of people arrive, admiring Spalanzani’s skills as a host. Spalanzani introduces Olympia to the guests, who marvel over her perfection. Olympia sings a charming songs about birds and love. Hoffmann's new glasses make him see Olympia as a real person rather than the robot she actually is, and he is captivated. After Olympia’s song, the guests leave to go to dinner, but Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to stay behind with Olympia. Hoffmann professes his love for Olympia, who responds only with “Yes” when Hoffmann touches her shoulder (he doesn’t know he’s actually triggering a button that makes her say that word). When he goes to embrace her, Olympia runs off. Nicklausse returns, telling Hoffmann to be wary, because everything is not as it seems; Hoffmann brushes him off yet again. Then we get my beloved little waltzy duet where Nicklausse invites Hoffmann back to the party and Hoffmann denounces cynics who disbelieve the power of love. They leave to join the other guests. Coppélius

enters, furious with Spalanzani for giving him a faulty check. He swears revenge and runs off. The guests return for dancing. Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to dance with Olympia. During the dance, Olympia goes haywire and rushes offstage, pursued by Cochenille. In the process, Hoffmann’s glasses are broken. Cochenille rushes back onstage, crying out that Coppélius has Olympia; Spalanzani rushes to her aid, only to find Coppélius with the robot in pieces. They return holding parts of the broken doll, and Hoffmann, his magical glasses now broken, finally sees Olympia for who she truly is and is humiliated. Act II: Antonia Crespel’s house. Antonia laments the death of her mother and her separation from her lover, Hoffmann. Her father, Crespel, enters and reminds her not to sing, lest she die from it like her mother did. Antonia promises him she won’t sing anymore and leaves sadly. Crespel asks his servant Frantz to watch the door and make sure no one comes in. Frantz, who is partially deaf, only half-understands him. Crespel expresses frustration at this and leaves. Frantz remarks in a fun little number that if only he had some talents—like singing or dancing—maybe his boss would appreciate him more. Hoffmann enters with Nicklausse; they have been travelling for weeks looking for Antonia after she moved away without a word. Hoffmann asks Frantz to go find Antonia for him. While Hoffmann expresses his joy over being reunited with Antonia, Nicklausse tries to temper his excitement with a reality check, which Hoffmann brushes off (he does this a lot). Nicklausse then sings a lovely song about the power of art and love (which is really a love song for Hoffmann), but once again Hoffmann ignores him. Hoffmann begins to sing a song that he and Antonia wrote. Antonia hears him and rushes to meet him; Nicklausse exits quietly. Hoffmann and Antonia rejoice over their reunion and pledge to get married. Hoffmann expresses concern over Antonia’s insistence to sing despite her ill health. Antonia convinces him to sing their song together, which they do. Afterwards Antonia becomes tired. Before Hoffmann can react, they hear Crespel coming. Antonia flees, but Hoffmann remains, hiding so he can eavesdrop on Crespel. Frantz returns and tells Crespel that Dr. Miracle is here, having misunderstood Crespel’s command to not let anyone in. Dr. Miracle enters, asking to see Antonia. Crespel refuses and tells him to leave, saying that his faulty medicine is what killed Antonia's mother. Dr. Miracle, however, remains, and pantomimes an interaction with Antonia where he checks her pulse and orders her to sing. Offstage, Antonia responds with a scale. Dr. Miracle tells Crespel that Antonia is dangerously ill, and gives him two vials of medicine that he says will cure her. Crespel refuses them, calling the doctor a murderer and chasing him out. Hoffmann comes out of hiding, stunned by this encounter. Antonia returns and asks Hoffmann what her father said, thinking that he and Hoffmann had been talking this entire time. Hoffmann, disturbed by what he’s seen and heard, makes Antonia promise not to sing. She agrees, but when Hoffmann leaves (promising to return for her later) she laments that Hoffmann is now on her father’s side about her singing. Dr. Miracle returns as a disembodied voice, taunting Antonia. Why should she give up singing just because her father and Hoffmann tell her to? Doesn’t she want to be a great singer like her mother? When Antonia rebuffs him, Dr. Miracle calls on the spirit of Antonia’s dead mother, who leads Antonia in a frantic refrain. Antonia, exhausted by the singing, collapses. Crespel rushes in to see his daughter dying on the floor. She tells him she sees her mother, then sings a part of her and Hoffmann’s song, before dying in her father’s arms. Hoffmann rushes in just in time to see Dr. Miracle pronounce Antonia dead. Act III: Giulietta Venice. The courtesan Giulietta is having a party of sorts. She and Nicklausse sing the famous Barcarolle. Afterwards Hoffmann mocks them with a song of his own condemning love and romance.

Schlémil, who is in love with Giulietta, enters and makes it clear he is suspicious of Hoffmann when Giulietta introduces him. Giulietta then leads her guests out to play cards. Hoffmann is about to follow when Nicklausse takes him aside, warning him against Giulietta and asking him to leave. Hoffmann says there’s no way he could fall for someone like Giulietta, and if he does, may the devil take him! (He really needs to stop saying that.) As if summoned, the Captain Dapertutto arrives and introduces himself, ominously revealing that he knows who Hoffmann is as well, and in general just acts creepy. Hoffmann and Nicklausse warily leave him behind and go to join the others playing cards. Once they’re gone, Dapertutto announces his plans to thwart Hoffmann with the help of Giulietta. He sings a diablical aria and attracts the courtesan with a diamond, and tells her she needs to steal Hoffmann’s reflection for him. Giulietta agrees to do so in exchange for the diamond. She and Dapertutto join the card players. Hoffmann is losing miserably, much to Nicklausse’s chagrin. Giulietta serenades the guests with a song about love, not-so-subtly aimed at Hoffmann. We get a pretty epic chorus as the game goes on. [Sometimes we also get and aria from Schlémil about having lost his shadow.] Giulietta leaves and Hoffmann follows her, giving Nicklausse his cards and asking him to finish the game for him. Nicklausse protests and tries to follow Hoffmann, but Dapertutto holds him back. Hoffmann joins Giulietta in her room. Giulietta despairs over her feeling of being trapped and suffering. Nicklausse comes in and tells Hoffmann to get ready to leave and that he’s coming back for him. He leaves, and Giulietta tells Hoffmann he should as well, but he refuses to leave her. Giulietta tells him to steal the key from Schlémil that he uses to lock her up at night, saying if he does so, she will devote herself to him. Hoffmann agrees to do so and sings his aria. Knowing she has him on the hook, Giulietta demands his fidelity—and his reflection. Helpless against her charms, Hoffmann agrees to both. Schlémil, Dapertutto, and Nicklausse return. Dapertutto taunts Hoffmann, who looks in a mirror to find that his reflection is gone. Nicklausse begs him to leave but Hoffmann refuses, still clinging to the hope that Giulietta actually loves him. However she only mocks him, and he despairs, starting everyone off in the famous Septet (or Sextet and Chorus) [sometimes the Septet is left out in longer Oeser edits]. Giulietta leads everyone back to the party, except Schlémil, who challenges Hoffmann to a duel. Hoffmann kills Schlémil and takes the key. He rushes to find Giulietta, only to see her riding off in a gondola with her real lover, Piticchinaccio, both of whom are laughing at his expense. Nicklausse tells Hoffmann the police are coming to look for Schlémil’s murderer, and finally drags him away. Epilogue Back at the tavern, Hoffmann finishes his tales. Offstage, cheers and applause are heard for Stella as her performance comes to an end. Nicklausse announces a revelation—all of Hoffmann’s lovers in his stories are just manifestations of his real love for a single woman, Stella. Furious, Hoffmann shouts Nicklausse down, then deliriously leads a reprise of the drinking chorus. Stella enters looking for Hoffmann. Nicklausse exits, telling Hoffmann it’s time for him to choose. Hoffmann drunkenly mistakes Stella for his three fictional loves, then rejects her. Offended, Stella leaves with Lindorf. Hoffmann begins to sing his Klein-Zach song before falling in despair. The students exit the tavern, singing their song once again and leaving Hoffmann alone. Nicklausse returns and reveals his identity as the Muse. She declares her love and devotion for Hoffmann and asks for his in return. She calls upon the Spirits of Wine and Beer, who she says have aided her in her efforts; they repeat their chorus and disperse. The Muse serenades Hoffmann with a comforting refrain: love makes a man great, but tears make him greater still—his suffering is not in vain, but

will make him an even greater

artist.

Kaye/Kecke

the Kaye/Kecke version is the most recent critical edition and hailed by many as the most definitive (aside from that “OG Offenbach” one I can’t find anything about). There are actually very few “true” Kaye productions out there, but a few that attempt it. A lot of the changes are just in the orchestration and, in the spoken-dialogue version, a lot of dialogue; the vast majority of the plot and action stay the same. The big differences are in the Giulietta act. Again, I’ll use some new-color text (orange) to indicate differences between this and previous editions.

Prologue We open in Luther's Tavern. A chorus of the Spirits of Wine and Beer sing out. The Muse emerges from a barrel, declaring her love for Hoffmann and determination to rid him of Stella, the “siren” who has stolen his attention (and affection). She tells the audience that she will disguise herself as Nicklausse, Hoffmann’s friend, in order to try one last time to win him tonight. The Councilor Lindorf comes in and bribes Andrès, a tavern employee, into giving him a letter from Stella, an actress, that’s addressed to Hoffmann. Lindorf reads the letter, in which Stella has included the key to her room and invites Hoffmann to join her after her performance that evening. Lindorf keeps the letter and key for himself. A group of students arrive in the tavern and sing a rousing drinking chorus. After a bit they notice Hoffmann isn’t there yet and demand to know where he is. Luther, the tavern's owner tells them Hoffmann is on his way, along with Nicklausse. The pair enter and take a seat. Hoffmann is melancholy and brooding, which prompts the students to ask him for a jovial song to lighten the mood. Hoffmann then sings the famous “Ballad of Klein-Zach.” But in the middle of the song, he gets distracted by memories of Stella. The students bring him back to reality and he finishes the sing, but the talk of love brings it up as a topic of conversation. Hoffmann declares “The devil take me if I were ever to fall in love!” At this point Lindorf makes his presence known, sneering at Hoffmann. The two of them then get into a battle of words, during which Hoffmann inadvertently admits that he is, in fact, in love with someone. Curious, the students ask him for the story of his love. Hoffmann declares that he has had not one but three mistresses: an artist, a young girl, and a courtesan. He then begins to tell his tales. Act I: Olympia Hoffmann goes to visit his science professor, Spalanzani, to declare his devotion to science. Spalanzani commends him, then leaves to prepare for his “daughter” Olympia’s coming-out party. Hoffmann admits his love for Olympia and gazes at her through a window. Nicklausse arrives and gently teases him about his love, singing a song about a mechanical doll and bird (sometimes it’s changed to a more mocking song specifically referencing Olympia). (also he sometimes mockingly serenades Olympia before his other aria.) Hoffmann brushes him off. Coppélius, an eccentric salesman, enters and attempts to sell Hoffmann and Nicklausse a variety or contraptions; Hoffmann and Nicklausse bicker over whether or not to engage with the salesman. Coppélius manages to get Hoffmann interested in a pair of magical glasses, which Hoffmann then purchases and wears for the remainder of the act. Spalanzani returns and gets into an argument with Coppélius about Olympia; Coppélius wants a share since she has his eyes. Spalanzani decides to pay Coppélius with a check that he mentions in an aside he knows will bounce. Coppélius tells Spalanzani that he should get Hoffmann to marry Olympia as a joke. Spalanzani agrees, and Coppélius leaves. Cochenille, Spalanzani's assistant, announces the arrival of the guests. A chorus of people arrive, admiring Spalanzani’s skills as a host. Spalanzani introduces Olympia to the guests, who marvel over her perfection. Olympia sings a charming songs about birds and love. Hoffmann's new glasses make him see Olympia as a real person rather than the robot she actually is, and he is captivated. After Olympia’s song, the guests leave to go to dinner, but Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to stay behind with Olympia. Hoffmann professes his love for Olympia, who responds only with “Yes” when Hoffmann touches her shoulder (he doesn’t know he’s actually triggering a button that makes her say that word). When he goes to embrace her, Olympia runs off. Nicklausse returns, telling Hoffmann to be wary, because everything is not as it seems; Hoffmann brushes him off yet again. Then we get my beloved little waltzy duet where Nicklausse invites Hoffmann back to the party and Hoffmann denounces cynics who disbelieve

the power of love. They leave to join the other guests. Coppélius enters, furious with Spalanzani for giving him a faulty check. He swears revenge and runs off. The guests return for dancing. Spalanzani asks Hoffmann to dance with Olympia. During the dance, Olympia goes haywire and rushes offstage, pursued by Cochenille. In the process, Hoffmann’s glasses are broken. Cochenille rushes back onstage, crying out that Coppélius has Olympia; Spalanzani rushes to her aid, only to find Coppélius with the robot in pieces. They return holding parts of the broken doll, and Hoffmann, his magical glasses now broken, finally sees Olympia for who she truly is and is humiliated. Act II: Antonia Crespel’s house. Antonia laments the death of her mother and her separation from her lover, Hoffmann. Her father, Crespel, enters and reminds her not to sing, lest she die from it like her mother did. Antonia promises him she won’t sing anymore and leaves sadly. Crespel asks his servant Frantz to watch the door and make sure no one comes in. Frantz, who is partially deaf, only half-understands him. Crespel expresses frustration at this and leaves. Frantz remarks in a fun little number that if only he had some talents—like singing or dancing—maybe his boss would appreciate him more. Hoffmann enters with Nicklausse; they have been travelling for weeks looking for Antonia after she moved away without a word. Hoffmann asks Frantz to go find Antonia for him. While Hoffmann expresses his joy over being reunited with Antonia, Nicklausse tries to temper his excitement with a reality check, which Hoffmann brushes off (he does this a lot). Nicklausse then sings a lovely song about the power of art and love (which is really a love song for Hoffmann), but once again Hoffmann ignores him. Hoffmann begins to sing a song that he and Antonia wrote. Antonia hears him and rushes to meet him; Nicklausse exits quietly. Hoffmann and Antonia rejoice over their reunion and pledge to get married. Hoffmann expresses concern over Antonia’s insistence to sing despite her ill health. Antonia convinces him to sing their song together, which they do. Afterwards Antonia becomes tired. Before Hoffmann can react, they hear Crespel coming. Antonia flees, but Hoffmann remains, hiding so he can eavesdrop on Crespel. Frantz returns and tells Crespel that Dr. Miracle is here, having misunderstood Crespel’s command to not let anyone in. Dr. Miracle enters, asking to see Antonia. Crespel refuses and tells him to leave, saying that his faulty medicine is what killed Antonia's mother. Dr. Miracle, however, remains, and pantomimes an interaction with Antonia where he checks her pulse and orders her to sing. Offstage, Antonia responds with a scale. Dr. Miracle tells Crespel that Antonia is dangerously ill, and gives him two vials of medicine that he says will cure her. Crespel refuses them, calling the doctor a murderer and chasing him out. Hoffmann comes out of hiding, stunned by this encounter. Antonia returns and asks Hoffmann what her father said, thinking that he and Hoffmann had been talking this entire time. Hoffmann, disturbed by what he’s seen and heard, makes Antonia promise not to sing. She agrees, but when Hoffmann leaves (promising to return for her later) she laments that Hoffmann is now on her father’s side about her singing. Dr. Miracle returns as a disembodied voice, taunting Antonia. Why should she give up singing just because her father and Hoffmann tell her to? Doesn’t she want to be a great singer like her mother? When Antonia rebuffs him, Dr. Miracle calls on the spirit of Antonia’s dead mother, who leads Antonia in a frantic refrain. Antonia, exhausted by the singing, collapses. Crespel rushes in to see his daughter dying on the floor. She tells him she sees her mother, then sings a part of her and Hoffmann’s song, before dying in her father’s arms. Hoffmann rushes in just in time to see Dr. Miracle pronounce Antonia dead. Act III: Giulietta Venice. The courtesan Giulietta is having a party of sorts. She and Nicklausse sing the famous Barcarolle. Afterwards

Hoffmann mocks them with a song of his own condemning love and romance. Schlémil, who is in love with Giulietta, enters and makes it clear he is suspicious of Hoffmann when Giulietta introduces him. Giulietta then leads her guests out to play cards. Hoffmann is about to follow when Nicklausse takes him aside, warning him against Giulietta and asking him to leave. Hoffmann says there’s no way he could fall for someone like Giulietta, and if he does, may the devil take him! (He really needs to stop saying that.) As if summoned, the Captain Dapertutto arrives and introduces himself, ominously revealing that he knows who Hoffmann is as well, and in general just acts creepy. Hoffmann and Nicklausse warily leave him behind and go to join the others playing cards. Once they’re gone, Dapertutto announces his plans to thwart Hoffmann with the help of Giulietta. He sings a diabolical aria and attracts the courtesan with a diamond, and tells her she needs to steal Hoffmann’s reflection for him. Giulietta agrees to do so in exchange for the diamond. (Here’s where the plot deviates, and the Oeser parts from earlier don’t appear at all.) The guests return looking for Giulietta, who sings a song for them as they play cards. Hoffmann gets distracted by Giulietta and gives Nicklausse his cards. Giulietta seduces Hoffmann and convinces him to duel Schlémil to get the key to her bedroom. Hoffmann does and kills Schlémil. Nicklausse finds Hoffmann and, learning about the duel, begs Hoffmann to leave with him. Hoffmann refuses, wanting to see Giulietta. Nicklausse leaves to find a means of transportation. Giulietta returns and continues to seduce Hoffmann, who falls for her completely. She asks for his reflection as a keepsake; he’s helpless to resist her. Dapertutto returns; Giulietta relinquishes Hoffmann to him. Nicklausse returns as well, in time to find Hoffmann has lost his reflection. Once again he begs Hoffmann to leave, but Hoffmann refuses, still insistent that Giulietta loves him. The chorus returns, mocking Hoffmann for being duped. The police arrive to arrest Schlémil’s killer. Furious, Hoffmann attempts to stab Giulietta, but misses and kills Pitichinaccio, who is revealed to be her real lover. Giulietta despairs over his body, and Nicklausse finally manages to drag Hoffmann away. (There is no Septet in Kaye edits.) Epilogue Back at the tavern, the students sing a disbelieving chorus as Hoffmann finishes his tales, telling him to come back to reality. Offstage, cheers and applause are heard for Stella as her performance comes to an end. Nicklausse announces a revelation—all of Hoffmann’s lovers in his stories are just manifestations of his real love for a single woman, Stella. Furious, Hoffmann shouts Nicklausse down. He then encourages everyone (including himself) to get blackout drunk. The chorus of the Spirits of Wine and Beer from the prologue returns, creepily overlapping with the students’ drinking chorus. Stella enters looking for Hoffmann. Hoffmann drunkenly mistakes Stella for his three fictional loves, then rejects her. Offended, Stella leaves with Lindorf. Hoffmann begins to sing his Klein-Zach song, mockingly dedicating it to Lindorf, before falling in despair. The students exit the tavern, singing their song once again and leaving Hoffmann alone. (Sometimes Stella gets an aria here, basically telling Hoffmann “you don’t know what you’re missing by rejecting me.”) Nicklausse returns and reveals his identity as the Muse. She declares her love and devotion for Hoffmann and asks for his in return. The Muse serenades Hoffmann with a comforting refrain: love makes a man great, but tears make him greater still—his suffering is not in vain, but will make him an even greater artist. (Sometimes the final chorus is extended, with comments from the other characters announcing that the future is his.)

And there you have it!

As mentioned before, there are a ton of variations on all of these. Choudens edits and short Oeser edits are often very similar, but even they will have random chunks cut here and there, sometimes move things around, and of course it’s always a toss-up which aria Niclausse is going to get in Act I and if he’ll get the Violin Aria.

If you got to the end of this, kudos. Seriously. I could barely make it through, and I elected to write the thing.

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kim-chann · 4 years ago

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❝ Roommates ❞ -- Chef’s Special

- - - | Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki

Synopsis ;; being roomates with the trio

“omg, they were roommates”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ $ 0.00

༺ Chefs Note: A “chef’s special” is just my own headcanons/imagines that I want to write that isn’t a request in my inbox. I will only write these whenever I just feel like I want to write the specific scenario instead of something in my inbox. Of course, I’ll be finishing matchups and headcanons/imagines, but this is just a self-indulgent thing haha.

-- Anyways, I hope you enjoy my special, “Coffee Truffle Cake” with extra chocolate ~~

〄 ⤷ Yūji Itadori | 虎杖悠仁 - - -

☉ Being roommates with Yuji is honestly so fun, on god

☉ Even if the two of you were beaten half to death from a mission and on a trip to recovery, the two of you won’t stop scrabbling around and being dumbasses together

☉Being roommates with Yuji is like having a best friend that you always play-fight with, and with his inhuman strength, he might give you a bloody nose or something

☉ Like he’ll hear you whining about anything, whether it’s a manga, TV show, book, etc, he’ll chuck a pillow saying, “just shut up!” and accidentally make you crack your neck and throw your head back

☉He’ll be worried of course, but he’ll be full on laughing, oh my god

☉ “I-I’m sorry-- hahahHAHA--” He’s cut off my his own laughter, “But why you fold like that??”

☉ Come on, he know’s some Gen Z slangs...

☉ Yuji is literally your big brother, no matter your age and he’ll just be scrabbling around with you, but he means no harm, it’s just his tough love that he expresses by his soft, but aggressive wrestles that always leave him winning

☉Anyways, Yuji is a very fun roommate and he’s a very good kid! He cleans his part of the dorm and offers to clean your part of the room too!

☉ Yuji loves to cook for the two of you! If you don’t know how to cook, don’t worry, your roommate gotchu!

☉ His meals are delicious, especially his meatballs whenever you make a hotpot on a cold night

☉ Yuji is honestly a bit shameless, but he gets embarrassed when you talk to him about it because he doesn’t realise what he’s saying, because sometimes, his thoughts his slip out

☉Like he’s browsing through a magazine and says, “Damn, she’s hot... but not as hot as Jennifer Lawrence.”

☉ That’s when you ask him about what’s his deal about Jennifer Lawrence, and he’ll be a blushy mess and try to change the subject or just flee, saying he needs to go training

☉ If you oversleep, expect him to just open the blinds and yell in your face, “GOOD MORNING!!”

☉Let’s just say he came to class that day with a bruise on his face that morning

☉Overall, being his roommate is so fun! It’s always so exciting because with this ball of energy, there’s nothing uninteresting about him because he loves talking!

〄 ⤷ Megumi Fushiguro | 伏黒恵 - - -

☉ Megumi as your roommate isn’t as exciting as Yuji (obviously). However, he does have the “big brother” vibes

☉ Megumi doesn’t really speak much because he’s always on a walk, training, or reading a book in his bed

☉ There isn’t much talk with him because he doesn’t know how to talk to you

☉ He wants to talk to you, but what is there to talk about? Training? Class? Nah, that was all too boring and it would just make things awkward for the two of you, and lessening the chance of you two become closer

☉ So you’d have to initiate that!

☉ Just buying him a book that he has been wanting for a while would make his face glow with happiness you rarely see

☉ He’ll thank you, and ask what he needs to owe you, and when you say it’s just a gift, he’ll be very thankful but confused on why you suddenly bought him something

☉ So, he’ll try to buy something for you too!

☉ Once he finally does, he’ll just hand it to you and say, “I found what you’ve been looking for. This is it, right?”

☉ Once you confirm that it is, he’ll be relieved because his self-doubts can ruin his own determination and courage to give you something

☉ Megumi only knows how to cook simple dishes, but if you do know how to cook, help him! He’ll actually learn from you and will use your recipes in the future

☉ Megumi doesn’t make a lot of small talk, but he will talk about his book that he was reading or tell you something that he learned in his training about his Shikigami

☉ Speaking of Shikigami! If you want to pet his divine dog, he’ll summon them just for you, and you’ll be petting the pupper like it deservesss

☉ If you’re struggling with something, ask him. He’s a pretty good mentor and really great at explaining and observing your mistakes that you need to correct

☉ Overall, it’s nothing exciting, but he’ll be a quiet, yet a helpful mentor and a “big brother” model to you.

〄 ⤷ Norbara Kugisaki | 釘崎野薔薇 - - -

☉ Wild

☉ Her room is decorated with expensive things and she’ll encourage you to do the same

☉ If you don’t have a fashion sense, she’ll make fun of you, before she invites you to Tokyo to browse around and go shopping

☉ Nobara will help you out in figuring out what you like and don’t like

☉ However, if you don’t like something she likes on you, she’ll just scoff and say, “Whatever, you don’t have sense in fashion as I do.”

☉ But she’ll reassure you by quickly saying, “But everyone’s different... I guess.”

☉ She’ll even offer to buy you all the clothes that you like and will praise you when you look hot in a new outfit, and she’ll even take pictures of you with a wide smile saying, “Lookin’ good!”

☉ Anyways, back at the dorm, she’s a bit strict on you making the slightest of noises at night.

☉ She needs her beauty sleep and she’s quite a light sleeper, so I don’t recommend making a lot of noise that can possibly wake her up and she’ll kick your ass out of the dorm

☉ She has “sister” vibes that’s just mean to you for no reason, but takes care of you because she won’t say that she cares about you

☉ When getting ready for class, she’ll ask, “Want me to do your hair?”

☉ Nobara is all about beauty and self-care, so she’ll only let you use her skin-care products if you ask her

☉ She’ll even give you a skin-care treatment with face masks, toners, moisturisers, etc. only if you ask her

☉ Nobara would say no at first, but would feel guilty and eventually sigh, “Fine, fine, come here, just stop looking so gloomy, you’re gonna make me sad.”

☉ Nobara as your roommate is like the bitchy-sister you have, but you know that she loves you.

༺ Chef Note: Thank you for reading my first, “Chef’s Special!” Please come again for an order, or look forward to my next special!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori #kugisaki nobara #megumi fushiguro

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myelocin · 4 years ago

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To Us, A Love Story Unwritten | Kuroo T., Miya A.

Hello!! Before you begin reading, THIS STORY IS A PART TWO to Redefining You , which I highly recommend you read first because a lot of things are connected! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bonus

Synopsis: Time away from Tetsurou leads you to the serendipity that is Miya Atsumu.

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, You, Miya Atsumu

Genre/Warnings/Tags: None! Angst, HEALING, Hurt & Comfort, surfer!Atsumu, tattooed!Kuroo, Fluff

WC: 7600+

a/n: here’s a word dump of my feelings bcos i made an oopsie and projected real ppl in 2d characters again

*playlist if u want maximum feelies: Blue (Elina), Miles Apart (Nick Wilson)

The thought of healing didn’t cross your mind until some months later.

In the mornings after that morning, you stood in your balcony, leaning against the railing with a mug of coffee, your thoughts wandering. Sometimes you thought of what kind of coffee you liked, and other times you caught yourself wondering how Tetsurou moved through his six AMs. Morning thoughts were reserved for the things you prefer to keep out of your head during the day. Tetsurou, of course, had always been an exception. He somehow always flowed in your train of thought whether the numbers on your watch flashed 3am or 3pm.

Or now, you thought after taking a quick peek at the time in your phone, 6:19 AM; all you could think about was how sad his golden eyes looked against the black of Tokyo’s backdrop.

Tetsurou making his way into your thoughts has always how it’s been for almost a decade, and habits are a little hard to break. At least, that’s what you say to reason with yourself.

Thinking back to your words that night, the “I love you” just kind of slipped out. But you know you meant it. Shifting your wrist to the side, you studied the tattoo again, then closed your eyes to remember the expression on your best friend’s features.

You meant the I love you, you told yourself again. Towards yourself that was for sure; towards Tetsurou.

And that’s always going to be the case, taunted the voice in the back of your head.

After that night, Tetsurou had broken up with his long term girlfriend for good. Though he didn’t necessarily ruin himself over the breakup—there were changes.

He still texted you at odd hours to show you a video he thought was funny, still showed up to your apartment for movie nights, and more or less was still present. But it was during the particularly sentimental scenes in the movie where he’d choose to refill the popcorn or grab another soda, and you could see that his can was still half full. You noticing that Tetsurou always chose to pick the other boba shop that was on the other side of town never flew past you either. You knew that that was the shop he always used to take her after classes—so even seeing how his hands never failed to tighten against the steering wheel when the two of you would drive by, you always pretended not to notice. Even though four months had passed, you know that for him, the wound was still fresh.

And remembering how sad he looked that night, you couldn’t help yourself to feel for his pain. At the end of the day, weren’t you just two people who yearned for the love that couldn’t be yours?

So you sigh and take a sip of coffee from the mug; it had grown a little cold. The digital clock on your phone read 6:31 AM next to a text from Tetsurou asking if you had time for lunch later.

Replying a quick ‘yep. meet u at the usual :)’, did nothing for you trying to have a more productive day off today and thus the morning felt a little slower than normal, so you sigh. Again.

It was going to be one of those days.

Tetsurou always made it a point to look gorgeous. Was he trying? Probably not, but that son a bitch knew people gave him looks that lingered a bit too long to be considered just a passing glance. You nearly snort in laughter at the way he opens the door to the café a little too, for better words, extravagantly, and walk to you purposely taking his time because you could tell he felt the way the young mom sitting at the table near the counter was giving him the look.

Then again, you don’t blame her. You weren’t too far from her reaction, albeit you actually had the decency to not openly gawk at him. Tetsurou plopped down in the chair opposite from you and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and propping them up the table before grabbing the menu from the middle of the table.

Already knowing your order, and his even though he still looks through the menu every time, you sit in your seat waiting for him to settle on the same thing he ordered the last time you ate there.

“Tetsu, why do you have to be so extra every time you see someone looking at you for more than three seconds?”

He cocked his head to the side and peeked at you from behind the menu, “Because I’m hot, tree.”

Though you rolled your eyes at the nickname, you still smiled at the familiar banter, “I still don’t get why you call me tree when you’re the literal beanpole in this friendship.”

“That’s rich coming from you, considering you told people you knew a talking rooster in highschool,” he deadpanned, but you knew he was on the edge of a chuckle from the way he emphasized his words.

“Hey,” you raised your arms up in defense, “people thought you were interesting that way so…”

Tetsurou set the menu down and rolled his eyes at your response as the waiter greeted the two of you. Before Tetsurou could open his mouth to say what he wanted, you spoke, “I’ll get the carbonara and he’ll get the tonkatsu ramen—“

“Oi-“ he interrupted from the side, still, you continued, “we’ll also get iced tea, extra sugar for him, and a little less for me.”

The waiter looked between the two of you waiting for Tetsurou to finish speaking but he only leans back huffing out a, “She’s right.”

You smirked. “You get the same thing every time.”

“Well what if I want something else one day?” he replied to which you rolled your eyes as a reply.

In between bites, Tetsurou looks up from his meal, “Any plans?”

You twirled the straw of your drink around the liquid and looked at him, “I was thinking of traveling somewhere. My boss is letting me take some time off, and season’s kind of slow, so might as well.”

He nods, and then points his chopsticks at you, sighing, “Oh to be young and employed with an employer who doesn’t want to kill you with work.”

“We’re literally seven months apart,” you deadpan.

He huffs in his seat and continues eating.

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

You look to your left at Tetsurou who’s facing you, no longer paying attention to the movie playing in the TV. Smoothing out the blanket on your lap, you sigh and tilt your head. “Kinda? I’m thinking somewhere warm. Kinda miss the sea.”

At this point the movie you two settled on a few hours ago had been completely forgotten, so you shift your body and face him. He offers you your third (or was it the fourth?) can of beer for that night, which you take and pop open immediately.

“(Y/n), can you even swim?” he laughs.

You glare at him from behind your drink. “I can go and look pretty in the beach while sipping my margaritas thank you very much.”

Tetsurou clinks his can against yours and leans back against the couch, shifting to a more comfortable position. When he finally settles, he positions his head in a way that’s still facing you.

Draping your legs across his lap, you rearrange the blanket so that it covers the both of you. You feel the weight of his hands leaning against your legs and then hear him speak, “How long are you gonna be gone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, a month? Two months? Haven’t even got the ticket yet.”

He gives you a look you can’t decipher, and then his voice becomes a little quiet, “What if I want to go with you?”

“Tetsu, you know your job won’t let you off that long,” you reply.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and pout at you, “You’re going to go and find a new surfer best friend who’ll buy you margaritas that flips his hair and you’ll forget about me.”

You chuckle. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

At this point the alcohol must have hit the both of you because you suddenly look at him, eyes soft in the way you usually would mask in the hours you were sober. He looks at you, equally as deep in the state of inebriation as you are because his eyes are as hazy as the slur in his tone when he says, “Nope! Because you looooove me (y/n).”

And he laughs at his own joke, tilting his head back to take another swig of beer. The comedic undertone flies past you anyway, because you fiddle with the edge of your sweater and sadly nod, “Yeah. I do”

In front of you, Tetsurou raises his hand, smiling, then hollers, “High five! Love you too.”

If it wasn’t for the liquid confidence, you would’ve laughed along to his joke and take another gulp of your beer to swallow the confession—but you’re four cans in and Tetsurou saying that he loves you too clouds the usual boundaries swimming in your head.

He doesn’t notice you when you take another heavy gulp from your can, or bite your lip afterwards, but he hears you when you say, “I do, you dumb fuck, I love you.”

And as soon as you say it, you feel him look at you. You choose to keep your head down. A few beats of silence passes before he speaks, “I know, (y/n),” he reaches forward to grab your hand, taking it into his. He traces the lining of the tattoo before continuing, “I know your tattoo story. And I’m still proud of-“

“I love you, Tetsurou,” you could almost wince at how loud it echoed in the silence, and the alcohol is still swimming in your system so you take another gulp hoping to dive deeper.

You feel him stop tracing the lines on your wrist so you take your hand back to your lap. He let the quiet envelop the room again before he spoke, and you could tell he was careful with his words.

“That time in the balcony, when you said you loved someone…” he trailed off so you look up and catch his stare. His eyes were still glassy; your head was still swimming, the rational thoughts further muffled by liquid confidence.

“I meant you,” you say, and try to fight the urge to break eye contact.

And because Tetsurou chooses to reply with a hushed ‘I’m sorry.’, you tell him ‘it’s okay, Tetsu.’ and retreat to your bedroom with a mumbled excuse of sleeping off a headache.

You lie in the dark with one hand over your eyes and sniffle quietly. You hear his “I’m sorry,” echo in the silence, but you try to ignore the thought at how immediate the apology was. He always had a habit of thinking about his answers in uncertain situations.

But you know him more than you give yourself credit for, you realize, so you shut your eyes and ignore the sting of the tears because you know. You’ve always known everything you felt for him had been on the unrequited side for the most part.

The certainty in his apology still hurt none the less.

That morning you wake up with a slight pound in your head and an empty apartment. At least he didn’t stick around, you thought, fully aware that the conversation afterwards would have most likely been too awkward to sit through.

Sighing as you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you paused in your track to look at the table where a plate of omurice lay in the middle next to a glass of sweet tea, the condensation still a little fresh on the glass.

Taking a seat and whispering a soft, “Itadakimasu”, you picked up the glass and took a sip. It didn’t taste as sweet as his.

Your eyes still stung, but you couldn’t help but smile at the taste. Looks like he remembers how you like your tea too.

After that night, there never really came a talk about where the two of you stood. Two days after the not so sober confession, Tetsurou showed up at your door with a bag of donuts demanding your company to picnic at this new spot he found recently. So you played along and pretended like nothing happened. The rational thoughts were back, your head no longer cloudy so this time, you laughed along with Tetsurou.

Though you could tell this time around his gaze towards you lingered a little longer, and he began to have moments where it looked like he was contemplating to start a conversation then ultimately deciding against it at the very last second. It was fine, though. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that conversation just yet.

So the next few weeks flowed like how it always did. Movie nights, playful banters, small talk, and beer—only this time you never drank more than two.

“Have you decided where you’re going?” he asks.

“Yeah, there’s this island in the Philippines. Siargao. My flight’s next week. The place looks sunny enough, but I might hop around the other islands if I stay long enough,” you reply.

“Don’t drown,” he laughs, and sets his beer down. You turn your focus back to the movie after chuckling at his reply and ignore how he never picked up a third can this time. And unlike before, he didn’t ask if he could come along this time.

Tetsurou drops you off with a half hug and a request that you update him as often as you can.

After a final wave at the gate, you board the plane with a return ticket to Japan slotted for two months later down the year.

The island of Siargao is as beautiful as the pictures you always see on social media. Outside the unit you rented, was a stretch of untouched beach that was some ways from the main square of the city. And true to your words, for the first week of your arrival, you spent your days kicking the sand, lounging by the water and sipping on margaritas.

Tetsurou sent you multiple messages during the first few days, to which you replied through selfies with your margaritas. He’d send you a photo of himself rolling his eyes with the caption “off to work, because I have a job. Like some people.” , or something along similar lines.

You tried to think this wasn’t some random trip you took just because of Tetsurou. It had been a long time since you last took a vacation for yourself; work was lenient, you saved up enough, and frankly, you missed the beach. Tetsurou was just the icing on top of the cake that helped you make your decision, you rationalized.

Plus, you thought, this place is paradise.

And you held on to that thought because a few days later came the knock on your door at six in the morning that introduced you to the serendipity you never could have predicted. Your little summer serendipity came in the form of a six foot one, and totally ripped blonde named Miya Atsumu.

He knocked at your door asking if you knew any places that rented out surfboards and scooters. By the time he was at the third word of his sentence, you knew he was Japanese because of the accent that lingered after he spoke. By the fourth sentence, he smiled in a way that had his eyes crinkling. And by the end of the conversation, by whatever being possessed you in that moment, probably that extra margarita, you had agreed to go to the main square in the city with him.

Atsumu knocks on your door for the second time that day at five in the afternoon wearing a loose white button shirt and another eye crinkling smile. Dangling a set of keys in one hand he nodded behind him and said, “Ready to go? I got the scooter from the place you told me.”

This time, you voiced out your hesitation, “Ahh, it’s alright. You don’t have to get dinner for me tonight. I just happened to know a place.”

He smiles and blinks at you laughing, “Ya travelin’ alone?” You nod then he continues, “Same here. Might as well know someone in the area. Heard the food here’s good, so let’s go.”

You open your mouth to protest but he turns and walks towards his scooter so you huff and follow after him. He did have a point. You were going to be there for two months so might as well actually take the time to know some people.

After Atsumu helps you fasten the belt on the helmet, he tells you to ‘feel free to hold on to my waist if ya need to balance.’ and then backs to the main street. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he drives along a road parallel to the stretch of water on your far left. It must have been close to seven, you take note, because as you glance up the colors in the sky begin to blend into mellow hues of orange and red.

You look forward and glance at Atsumu’s reflection in the side mirror before briefly catching his eye. From the mirror, you could see an expression that was somewhere between a smirk and a smile.

“Ya like what ya see?” he yells over the wind.

You squeeze his shoulder, then lean closer saying, “Just drive. I’m not in the mood to die.”

He laughs over the holler of the open air and you can’t help but smile along to how his laugh lingers in the air.

Soon enough, the two of you settle into a restobar by the beach, one close enough to the water where you could ditch your flip flops and let your feet sink in the sand.

This has got to be the fifth margarita I’m drinking today, you think to yourself before taking a sip. Still good though, you inwardly snort. Atsumu sits across you from the table nursing his own choice of drink.

The atmosphere was nice, the live musician strumming his first song in the background. Then Atsumu speaks from across you, “So,” he begins, “How long ya stayin’?”

You fiddle with the straw of your drink, facing him, “Two months. You?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know yet. Off season and there’s not much to do back home, so might as well be bored somewhere a little more scenic.”

“Indefinite vacation,” you nod—impressed, “Must be hella loaded.”

He laughs again, “I’m comfortable.”

The silence envelops the two of you again, but as the musician begins another song, from the corner of your eye you see Atsumu listen, clap, and smile so you decide maybe befriending this stranger won’t be so bad after all.

The next night you head for go for drinks, Tetsurou messages you with a picture of him and Kenma in the car with a caption, “movie night minus the traitor who left the country >:((“ and you reply with your signature margarita selfie with Atsumu throwing a peace sign to your right. Tetsurou replies with a smiley face and you don’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

The next few weeks consisted of waking up shy of the sunrise and walks along the trail where the waves crept towards the sand. Atsumu liked to join you in the mornings, of course, the days he actually wakes up before ten AM. Some days you’d watch him peddle out into the water catching wave after wave as you sat in the sand, under a shade. You didn’t really go out into the water and preferred to just sit in the sun, so the times Atsumu would catch a break, he’d lay out a towel next to you and sit to talk.

He was talkative. Extremely talkative. But it was welcome, you suppose. He asked aimless questions during conversations. Conversations with him usually sounded like this: “(y/n)?” “Yep?” “Whadda ya think about riceballs?” “They’re…okay, I guess.” “Good to know.”

It was endearing, you suppose. Atsumu respected your boundaries and never pried, that fact was for sure. Though, he chose to fill in the beats of silence with little facts about his life. Over the course of the next month, in the moments you’d spend with Atsumu during the day, you’ve learned that he was playing for a professional volleyball team, he’s originally not from Tokyo, he tripped during a fan meeting, has a twin brother who’s darn good at cookin’ (he emphasized), and that his favorite food is fatty tuna. You don’t remember specifically asking, but he talks anyway you can’t bring yourself to mind one bit.

During the past month and some, Tetsurou sporadically texts you a greeting to which you reply to—but this time, it wasn’t until much, much later that you realize you didn’t think too much about the change of tone and much hastier conversations. You usually ended the phone call this time around, too.

Nearing the last few stretches of golden hour, Atsumu would routinely knock at your door and drag you out to walk around the beach only retreating to your respective units hours after the sunset.

It was during this one night where Atsumu sits you down and stars a small bonfire. He excused himself for a brief moment then came back with a Tupperware of what you assumed to be snacks, a blanket, and a hoodie which he lent you (that up to now you still haven’t returned). You smile as he takes his seat next to you, comfortable in his hoodie.

“So,” Atsumu breaks the silence, “how come yer runnin’ away for two months?”

“That’s kinda sudden,” you reply.

He knocks your shoulder with his lightly before speaking again, “You don’t have ta’ share if you don’t wanna.”

“No pressure,” he says again and his eyes crinkle at his smile so you press your shoulder against his and say, “I just wanted time for myself I guess.”

He nods, so you continue, “It’s nothing dramatic, really. For a big part of my life I just…lived according to how people placed me in their lives. I guess I just wanted the space where I had to make decisions from nothing if that even makes any sense.”

“Depends. How many margaritas did ya have today?” he jokes.

“Atsumu! You were with me the whole day, I haven’t even had one yet,” you laugh out.

“But I understand what ya’ mean. Yer all good, I just thought you were gonna say you were soul searchin’ cause of a boy that broke ya’ heart back home.”

You look at him and wince. “In a way, that was a factor as well.”

Half expecting a sympathetic reply, you find yourself rolling your eyes and laughing because Atsumu suddenly yells, “Bingo!” and flicks your forehead.

He faces you and holds his hands up, “Hey, we all got a reason to do stuff so I ain’t gonna judge ya’.”

You smile and lean against his shoulder because you know he’s sincere.

“Atsumu?” you call out.

“Yeah?” he replies as he turns his head looking at you.

The red of the flames flicker as a glassy reflection against the brown in his eyes and your thoughts become jumbled for a second.

“If I find out you’re here because you got dumped I’m never letting you live it down.”

His eyes crinkle along with his laugh and you find yourself missing the pools of brown, but the echo of his laugh resonates clear in your ears as compensation so you decide you’re satiated.

“I swear I just got bored back home!”

Atsumu spends the next few hours by telling you stories and giving you soft smiles, and you don’t notice the absence of Tetsurou’s message that night.

On the afternoon after some weeks more, Atsumu comes to you by knocking at your door at five in the afternoon (which doesn’t even surprise you at this point), demanding you put on swimwear because he was going to teach you how to swim. At first, you stare at him with a blank look—wherein he stares at you right back with equal intensity, so after some time, you sigh and shoo him out, telling him you’ll meet him outside after you get ready.

After tugging on some shorts and a bikini top, you walk outside and glance around looking for the telltale blonde of Atsumu’s head. It doesn’t really surprise you when you hear your name being hollered from some distance, so as you look to the direction of the water—you see Atsumu waving his arms wildly, already waist deep out in sea.

The water was warm, at least, and you carefully wade in the water towards Atsumu. He lets you grab his arms to help you find balance against the waves knocking against you.

“You know you’re going to fail if you try to teach me right?” you say.

“Just needed an excuse to get you in the water,” he chuckles.

You respond by splashing him with a handful of water. And somewhere in between splashes of water and playful banter, you find yourself wading chest deep into warm water, Atsumu’s arms acting as your anchor against the push and pull of the waves. The two of you stay like that for some time and you allow the woosh of the water and distant sounds of the children on shore fill the silence.

“Golden hour’s almost up, ‘Tsumu, we should go back.” you say after some time.

He stands behind you and leans down a bit, then surprises you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. Your breath hitches, then his voice sounds low near your ear, “Look at the sky.”

And so you do. The sky in front of you lights itself in bursting shades of oranges, reds, and touches of violets. You turn your face to the side but stop because you see Atsumu staring at you, the expression on his face soft.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” his lips part to say, and you nod because you see licks of the sky’s painting reflected in the glassy brown pools of Atsumu’s eyes.

He blinks and smiles in a softer way that only the corners crinkle up, and you don’t notice how your hand eventually found its way to wrap around his because you’re gravitating towards him—face angling closer until you felt his lips press against your forehead.

“Did you know,” you begin, “when you feel deja vu that means the universe is telling you you’re going down the right path?”

Atsumu looks as you, “Does this feel familiar?”

“In a way,” you respond and smile.

Turning to face him, Atsumu’s hands cradle yours as he presses his lips towards the side of your lips, then back to the side of your head feeling him smiling into the kiss. “You’re somethin’ else, (y/n).”

You look at him wearing a smile mirroring his, “Something good I hope.”

It’s something good, you decide later that night as you settle in bed after dinner with Atsumu. The past few hours flew by in a mirage of good conversation, light hearted jokes and even more eye crinkling smiles from Atsumu.

Settling into the comforter, you grab your laptop just in time as Tetsurou’s face pops up on screen, requesting a video call. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hit the accept button and wave hello as Tetsuou’s face appears on the screen. He holds a can of beer as a greeting and leans forward. His eyes look glassy.

“(Y/n)..” His voice trails off before slowly continuing, “—how are you?”

You don’t notice his tone from the high you’re still feeling from the day so you beam at him, “I’m good! Atsumu and I are really hitting it off! You’d love him Tetsu!”

He stares at you through the webcam and then he sighs deep. Finally catching a drift of the atmosphere he’s giving off, you watch him crack another beer open and slowly speak, “You okay? Did something happen?”

He sets the can down at the table in front of him and places his face in his hands. You notice the new ink around his forearms. “I miss you, (y/n).”

“I’ll be home next week, Tetsu,” you say

“I—“ he pauses to look up at you with glassy eyes, “I think we should give us a try.”

Your heart clenches. “Tetsurou, you’re drunk. We can talk when I get home.” He shakes his head, and his movement is a little sluggish, so you continue to speak before he could, “I saw the photo your ex posted earlier. You’re still not okay, Tetsu.”

He leans back to his chair with a little force, “And suddenly you are? After being in love with me for eight years, (y/n), you expect me to believe that you’re suddenly okay? Bullshit.”

Your face grimaces, and you feel anger bubble up, the emotion seeping into your words, “I don’t think you’re ever going to go away, Tetsurou. For years I watched you fall in and out of love with someone who was never me. I’m not suddenly okay but I accepted that this—“ you pause to gesture between the two of you, “—isn’t going to happen and I’m moving on. I watched you when you were at your happiest and I deserve that too, Tetsu. I deserve to be at my happiest whether it be by myself or with Atsu-“

“We can try, (y/n),” he cuts you off softly.

“But I don’t deserve someone who isn’t sure about me,” you reply.

And maybe it’s the liquid confidence that riles him up, but he suddenly straightens his back and looks at you with the same glare you stare at him with, “And are you sure about Atsumu? You told me none of us are saints, (y/n), you’re not better off than I am here.”

You open your mouth, but the silence remains; the atmosphere suddenly heavy.

Then Tetsurou slumps before he he speaks, “(Y/n), I—“

“It’s okay, Kuroo,” you watch as he winces at his surname, “It’s late and I really want to get some sleep. You should too. Take care.”

You catch the last second of him parting his lips at an attempt to reply before you promptly ended the call and shut off your laptop.

His words ring in your ear the entire night, and you think of Atsumu the entire night. You watch the second hand of the clock on your bedside table tick slowly. Your hand comes to rest against your eyes as you try to let sleep pull you in.

You think of Tetsurou who looked at you with glassy eyes that told you all the reasons why his heart was still hurting, then you think of Atsumu—of how the sunset looked better reflected in his eyes than it did painted across the sky.

“I really hope this is something good,” you echo your words from earlier as you let sleep finally succumb into slumber.

The night before your flight, Atsumu seats you outside for a bonfire, with the same blankets, snacks, and hoodie fitted around you. The first few hours he jokes about little stories that happened throughout his life and listens patiently when you’d share a snippet of yours.

At this point, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood. You look at him from the corner of your eye as he blows against an extremely burnt marshmallow before sheepishly offering the stick to you.

“When we’re back in Japan I’m lettin’ ya taste ‘Samu’s cookin’ to make up for this I swear.”

You lean your head against his arm and blow on the charred marshmallow, “Have you decided when you’re coming back?”

“Yes, but I’m not tellin ya,” Atsumu chuckles.

“What!” You exclaim, suddenly sitting up, “You already have a ticket?”

“That’s also a secret, doll.”

You sigh and move to lightly punch his shoulder, but instead, he catches your hand midway and envelops it in his own. Atsumu looks at the tattoo on your wrist peeking out, so tentatively, he pushes down the sleeve and looks at it.

“Baby’s breath means eternal love, right?” he asks, voice hushed.

“I’m surprised a big, buff, man like you knows,” you reply.

“Oi, big buff men can be sentimental too,” Atsumu quips.

“(Y/n),” he begins then looks at you in a way that suddenly has your stomach churning, “Should we give us a go at this?”

He asks the same question as Tetsurou did a few nights back and your head is swimming. Tetsurou’s words muddle the thoughts in your head as you turn to face Atsumu who is looking at you with eyes that always held the same softness that remained unchanged from two months ago.

Is this even fair for Atsumu? is the thought that you circle around.

“I don’t want to give you only half of me, ‘Tsumu,” you cradle his cheek in your palm and your heart stirs when he leans in.

“You’re too good for me,” you confess.

He closes his eyes and you find yourself missing the dancing specks of scarlet flames reflected in his orbs.

“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he sighs, his face still warm against your palm. Atsumu’s hand trails up and cups your hand that’s still flush against his cheek.

“Is this the part where we say we’re the right people who met at the wrong time?” he jokes quietly. Atsumu looks at you with a smile contrasting against the somber expression in his face, and you feel your heart clench.

Your thoughts momentarily flicker back to the night you talked to Tetsurou in your balcony some months ago and remember the feeling of déjà vu hinting that you were heading in the right direction with your decision.

Staring back at him, you look at your own reflection in darkened pools of brown and don’t feel déjà vu’s familiar push. Atsumu’s other hand trails up your face and his thumb rubs against your cheek. You stay silent when he sighs again and your heart clenches in the way that hurts, and your brain scrambles for a reason why.

Atsumu angles your hand in a way that lets him press a kiss to the tattoo on your wrist. “Hope ya heal in time, (y/n).”

You’re still quiet, thoughts still muddled as your rationality wrestles to string words to convey to Atsumu. “We can stay in contact, ‘Tsumu. I still want you to be in my life,” you slowly say.

“I don’t wanna be hurtin’ you while you’re still tryin’ to find yourself,” he says, and you nod. Déjà vu never comes and your heart still aches.

And your heart remains heavy as the two of you stand up to retreat for the night. Against the door of your room you look at him and press a kiss on his cheek. He smiles at you.

“Well, I guess,” you initiate, “see you around?”

He smiles and crosses the short distance between the two of you, then presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “If the universe wills it, doll.”

The feeling of déjà vu is absent for the rest of the night.

After the first few days of your arrival back in Japan, you stay in your apartment cursing the winter. This particular winter was a little harsh for Tokyo and the sudden temperature change you needed to adjust to didn’t help with your traitor immune system. Kenma had waited for you at the arrival area of the airport instead of Tetsurou that day. Then again, you weren’t complaining—you didn’t have any plans to talk to him immediately after coming back home.

You didn’t need to report back to your job until the next week so the first few days, you loitered around your apartment mindlessly passing the time. Some mornings, you’d drag a chair by the balcony and sip your morning coffee. The snow accumulating on the rails and the gloomy morning light was a far cry from the little island you explored with Atsumu back in the Philippines, but your thoughts still ghosted around him from time to time.

The morning you left for the airport, he slept in, but that didn’t stop you from leaving a sticky note in his front door with your contact details neatly printed in the paper. Throughout your day, your eyes constantly flickered to sneak glimpses at your phone’s notification bar, but there was never an unknown number. So you sighed, and instead scrolled through the photos you managed to capture with him. The image of Atsumu stared back at you through the screen, expression beaming with unfiltered happiness and you find yourself smiling along every time.

A knock on your door one morning brings you out of your haze. Before you could look through the peep hole, another knock comes and then a voice, “Ah, (y/n), I think you’re home now,” your hand on the door knob loosens, “It’s Tetsurou. Can we please talk?”

You must have stayed quiet too long because he speaks again, “I got you donuts.”

And you sigh, because he’s right, the two of you need to talk. But you still tell yourself you’re only opening the door because it’s six in the morning and you can’t be bothered to make breakfast so the donuts are the only reason you’re letting him in.

Tetsurou sits on the opposite side of the dining table gripping the handle of his mug with one hand before he clears his throat and looks at you, “I’m sorry.”

“Tetsurou,” you begin, “You’re someone that I don’t think will ever leave my system.” His eyes are a little clearer now that you return his stare. “You’re still the person who grew up with me even if time difference existed you know. You’ve had so many roles in my life and that’s never going to change.”

He looks at you, suddenly looking like a teenager again. His golden eyes stare at you and gleam of something unspoken. “I think somewhere along the years I really did fall in love with you, (y/n). And it just sucks how we never met at the same page. I really do love you, (y/n).”

“Maybe in the next life, Tetsu,” you say suddenly choked up. “We both deserve-“

“A fresh start.” He cuts you off, smiling. “A fresh start.” You affirm.

Before you knew it, Tetsurou rolls his sleeve to his elbows and angles his arm showing you a small outline of the sun peeking out behind some buildings. You look at him just in time for his explanation, “It’s not as sentimental as your baby’s breath tattoo, but sunrises remind me of you.”

You feel your eyes water when you look at the amber of his eyes growing glassier, “You got a tattoo that reminds you of me?”

“You’ve always been a constant in my life, (y/n). I shared so many sunrises with you. And I mean it when I say that I want you to find what makes you happy.” He tells you as you smile and lean forward, tracing the lining of his tattoo. The moment feels a little like déjà vu that doesn’t disappear when Tetsurou speaking again, “I love you enough to realize that kind of happiness won’t be with me, (y/n).”

He looks at you and everything feels so familiar. You choke out a sob that sounded a little like a laugh and Tetsurou does the same.

“You’re never getting rid of me, you lunatic,” you say, and Tetsurou laughs—eyes glassy from the pricks of tears fighting to slide down his cheeks. “We’re okay, right?” He asks you. And you nod, because your heart constricts in a way that doesn’t hurt, the knot in your stomach gone and Tetsurou looking so beautiful from the morning light that filtered in feels so familiar.

“Always, Tetsu.”

And after some moments of comfortable silence, he looks to the window on his left saying, “So, surfer dude slash volleyball player, huh? I think you got a type going on, (y/n).”

You roll your eyes and finally grab a donut from the box. “Yeah.”

Tetsurou chuckles, “Tell me about him. He’s the first guy who makes you look dopey in love.” So you smile and look out the window thinking about the boy who spoke of the little moments and showed you worlds under the sun and feel your heart mellow to a gentle beat, “He’s something good.”

Atsumu’s number doesn’t show up on your phone for the next month, but you try to keep yourself from doing your own research, or as Tetsurou pointed out, stalking, for his presence in social media. If he didn’t want to be found, you’d just leave him to it.

Tetsurou sits across from you at the arrival gate in Haneda airport later that month, scrolling through his phone and mumbling curses because Bokuto, his friend, had told him the wrong time for his arrival and won’t be arriving until a few hours later. Instead of driving back home, wasting gas, and sitting through traffic, you suggest to pass the time at a café instead.

“I swear to god, (y/n), remind me to end my friendship with him the second he lands,” Tetsurou huffs from across you.

“You’re being dramatic again,” You roll your eyes, laughing.

“He’s gonna be here in a bit,” you pause and stand up, grabbing your phone, “I’ll go check the board so stay here.”

“Since you left your wallet here, I’m treating myself to another frapp, thanks (y/n)!” you hear him call from behind you, so you turn to flick him off as you keep walking.

Looking at the board above the gate, your eyes scan to look for information regarding Bokuto’s flight. Under said flight, you smile looking at SIARGAO listed within the board. Briefly, your thought wonders off to Atsumu; you hoped he was doing well.

A flow of people begin to trail out of the gate and into the lobby. Assuming that it must be from Bokuto’s flight, you stand on your tip toes from your little corner to look for the telltale monochromatic palette of his hair.

Grabbing your phone, you hastily press call to Tetsurou’s contact name, to which he answers with a drawled out “Heeelllloo?” along with an exaggerated slurp to the Frappuccino he bought with your card.

You open your mouth to tell him to come over, except that you don’t because standing a few meters in front of you is a familiar blonde.

From the phone in your ear, you hear Tetsurou call your name, so through the haze in your thoughts, you mumble a quick “Never mind.” and hang up. You don’t think Atsumu notices you just yet because he’s pulled his luggage to the side, a little closer to you this time, and pulled out his phone to what you could guess was him texting somebody.

You don’t speak for the first few beats of silence because, holy shit this is fanfiction material—is this actually happening? Eventually he pockets his phone and looks around, before his eyes spots you, who at this point, is still openly gawking at him some distance away.

Then three things happen in succession; first, Atsumu’s eyes widen, second, he blinks really fast, and then finally, third, cracks a smile.

And as soon as his smile pushes the crinkle in his eyes, you feel yourself release the breath you’ve unconsciously held in. He pushes his luggage with him as he walks towards you, hand held up in greeting and the smile still plastered wide on his face.

“Yo,” he says and your heart bursts with your reply that came out a little more breathless than you’d expected, “Hi.”

Tetsurou stands some distance away from the two of you, holding your wallet and his Frappuccino. He spots the blonde mop of head you’re staring at, really you should chill out (he thinks), and immediately recognizes his features as Miya Atsumu, the same guy who’s been a part of your daily margarita selfie for the two months you were in the Philippines.

The bedhead watches you walk towards Atsumu, and he to you before you both met somewhat in the middle, then looks at you, finding himself smile because of how happy you looked. He stands in his spot and can’t help but feel some sort of déjà vu as he stops himself from approaching the two of you. His heart, he realizes, clenches in a way that sort of hurts but sort of doesn’t, but because this is the first time looking at you with a smile so unabashed, he settles with the thought that because he loves you—you deserve nothing short of the happiness you’re feeling now.

And you can’t help but feel the same as Atsumu laughs out a comment about how the universe must really want the two of you together. His arms circle your figure after exchanging a few pleasantries and inside jokes and you smile into the crook of his neck.

“This feels a little like that déjà vu thing ya talked about before, ya know.” He mumbles. And for the brief moment you see Tetsurou’s text on the screen of your phone reading, “whipped.”, you laugh in a way that has you feeling dizzy and light. You feel like you could cry when Atsumu kisses the side of your head, because this moment feels so familiar.

Atsumu feels so familiar. So when you break the embrace and look at the reflection of your watering eyes in the warm pools of his, more than ever, you were sure that this is exactly where the gods meant for you to be.

a/n: *i’m aware there’s no direct flight from haneda/siargao but pls bear w me ;A;

proceed to Epilogue :D

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ggukkiedae · 4 years ago

Text

BTS, NCT, and TXT React to Bicycle

three videos have been uploaded to Royals! (any conversation in italics is spoken in english)

the boys are smushed together in yoonmi’s studio, hyung line on her beanbags and maknae line on the floor

“alright, oppas, you’re here to react to me!”

jimin, who had her on his lap, nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head “my favorite thing to do”

she giggled before turning to everyone “any expectations? you know, before we start?”

“we have no idea, princess” namjoon patted her head, “you haven’t even released the teaser yet, and none of us but hobi have heard what you’re working on”

hoseok just shrugged with a smug smile “i’m the favorite” “i don’t have a favorite?”

jungkook gave her the most offended look he could muster, and she just laughed it off

“just watch, oppas. it’ll be fun!”

she pressed play and settled into jimin’s arms, letting the older tuck her head under his chin

there were a lot of “ooh”s and “aah”s as the music video started

“you got on top of a truck?” taehyung asked her. when she nodded, he ruffled her hair “that’s my brave aegi”

and cue seokjin rambling about her hopefully wearing harnesses for safety during the shoot (which we all know didn’t happen)

then her rap verse came on

there was yelling

“yah! makdung-ah, is that your shadow?” “yes?” “mimi! you’re a minor!” “i’m literally 21 this year???”

needless to say her slight floor choreo made everyone freak out a little

jimin even pulled a blanket over them and wrapped her up in a cocoon

there was silence as they watched the rest of the music video, with the occasional excited noise until it eventually ended

“so? how was it?” she asked from her cocoon in jimin’s lap

it happened in sync, the boys looked at yoonmi then to the screen. it was like they all realized that the mature girl in the music video was the same baby wrapped in a pastel rainbow blanket

“you did great, princess,” namjoon patted her head “as always. clean production. i like how you used the guitar”

“well, i like the dance break” hoseok was just smiling which made her giggle “oppa, You helped choreograph that!”

there was a light round of making fun of hoseok before their manager told them to calm down and asked for everyone else’s opinion

“the girl in the screen and the girl on my lap, they’re not the same person, are they?” she laughed and turned her head towards jimin before scrunching her nose at him

he imitated her reaction and booped her nose while taehyung reached over to ruffle her hair, “it’s amazing, aegi. i expected nothing less from you” “thanks, oppa”

“i’m still a little unsure about your concept, but i guess i have to accept you’re growing up. it was a cool music video, princess”

yoongi smiled at her from his seat and gave her a thumbs up. she wrapped her hand around his thumb and gave him her own thumbs up and yoongi broke into the biggest smile

meanwhile seokjin just “while you did great, i will not watch the music video again. i can’t”

she just laughed while the other members teased him

“i love it” jungkook shrugged and gave her a fist bump “i raised her well”

“you didn’t raise me” “yes i did” “we were raised together” “i’m four years older. i raised you”

bighit just cut the video there amidst the six members laughing fondly while their maknaes bickered

TXT:

the boys were sitting in the dance studio surrounding a laptop. seri was missing

soobin clapped his hands together “yes, okay! we’re doing a reaction video today. as you can see, our seri isn’t here with us”

“noona says she’d be too embarrassed to watch us react to her sexy side” kai was snickering at the side while you can see yeonjun lightly smack him upside the head

“i don’t see why she’s embarrassed considering the monthly evaluations we used to do” beomgyu was cut off by taehyun

“okay! hyung, i’m gonna stop you right there and start the video”

he scooched forward and pressed play before scrambling backwards quickly to not block the other members

there was a chorus of “ooooh”s as the music started and there were clips of the girls’ faces shown

when seri started off the song the boys started yelling to the point where soobin had to lean forward to pause the video

“yah! YAH! we can’t hear the video anymore!”

once everyone calmed down soobin pressed play and they continued

beomgyu was biting his hand to hold back his laughter while taehyun was playfully covering his eyes yet peeking through his fingers

the dance break started

yeonjun squinted a little then his eyes widened “they’re dancing in water! thank god lily’s tall and isn’t wearing heels”

“she improved a lot” soobin noted

“she’s been practicing recently” kai noted “for that thing”

once it ended, the boys cheered. the sound of the door came up as well as an off-screen voice “i heard cheering. is it over?”

“noona!” taehyun smiled and opened his arms for her to come over

seri skips into frame and settled between the two maknaes before throwing an arm around each of the two 02 liners and addressed her members

“how was it?”

“that reminds me” yeonjun promptly hit beomgyu upside the head

“hyung!” “what do you think you’re doing dancing with my kid like that? is that why you allowed no one else on set, lily?”

seri snorted while soobin shook his head in feigned disappointment

“who do you want me to dance with in a club? tyun? hyuka? oppa, be sensible” “no, not when you and beomgyu were dancing like that?!”

soobin just “relax, hyung. they’re best friends, and it’s literally their job”

“see? soobin oppa’s on my side” she smirked at yeonjun before asking again “putting junnie oppa’s mini breakdown aside, i’m guessing you guys liked it?”

“the dance break was really cool! this new side of you, too!” she ruffled kai’s hair appreciatively before poking taehyun’s cheek

“tyun?” “it’s really cool, noona. your voice sounded different, too! in a good way, of course”

“well, i think your dance improved a lot” beomgyu cut in “i’m glad to see our extra practice sessions paid off” “honestly, with the amount of time we take with you and yeonjun oppa helping me, i would have cried if i didn’t improve”

“i’m proud of you, seri” yeonjun chuckled and pinched her cheeks

“can’t wait to hear the whole album, lily” soobin smiled at her “oh! and for your showcase! the performances are gonna be cool”

“i guess that’s it then” she smiled and turned to the camera to say something before she was interrupted by kai

“group hug!”

the five boys squished her into the middle of a big hug while you can hear them all speaking over each other about how excited they felt and how proud they were of seri. the video ends with a lot of excited chatter, some yelling, and laughter all mixed together

NCT:

there were 23 men sitting in what looked like bighit’s artist lounge, some on the floor, some on the couch, and some standing

they had a projector set up so it was obvious that they were watching it on the wall

“are you guys ready?” hannah’s voice came from off camera

jungwoo scoffed “if you don’t play it now, i’m gonna explode”

“me, too, noona. i’ve been waiting ages for this!”

you can hear hannah laugh at chenle before she counted down from three and pressed play

the moment her face appeared on screen for the introduction shots, there was cheering

when she went “get on my bike, let’s go” then into the chorus there was a burst of cheers so loud that the video had tk be paused so they don’t miss anything

the loudest was probably the whole of 2000 line ngl they had their own world in the corner

then there was johnny bouncing on the couch with yuta (poor xiaojun was caught in between them and being shaken around)

“that’s my kid!”

“honestly, if you guys don’t quiet down then we’re never going to finish the video” hannah sounded amused

everyone settled enough to let the music video play

it got to the part where she went “you like it how i ride it”

“baby, not in front of yangyang!” “not your baby, ten oppa”

but she was snickering at ten trying to cover yangyang’s ears

but then it was yoonmi’s rap verse and she was on the floor

the way everyone started cheering and turned to mark, a few members (mostly lucas and johnny) yelling his name

haechan jumped up and covered mark’s eyes “oh no you don’t mark lee” “she’s literally my girlfriend though?” “still!”

hannah’s prechorus had everyone vibing

you can see yangyang by the corner just has the biggest grin on his face and glancing off camera proudly every now and then

then the dance break came and

“water? you’re wearing stilettos in water? for a dance break?!” doyoung was calling out to hannah

“yeah” “please never do that again, you could hurt yourself” “it’s fun though, right hen ge?”

hendery was about to agree but doyoung shot him a look to which hendery leaned back and gestured towards doyoung “you heard hyung”

she snorted

by the end of the music video, there was a standing ovation led by jungwoo who was proudly cheering above everyone else

“that’s my little sister! i raised her well!”

hannah’s laughter could be heard while she asked them what they thought

“i want to say it’s too mature for you, but you’re growing up now, and you did it well” “thanks baba”

“i like the part where you pretended the dancers were bikes” chenle began “i wanna try!”

“you’re gonna drop noona” “no i’m not! i’ll get lucas hyung and johnny hyung to help!”

hannah laughed at the two before focusing on yangyang who stretched “well, i don’t know about you guys, but i loved it. 10/10 would recommend”

“of course you liked it mister boyfriend” jaemin’s off handed comment made everyone laugh while yangyang just shrugged

“well,” hannah walked into frame, “that was loud. let’s hope i don’t have to hear our song coming from their mouths around the dorm or the company”

there were various snorts around the room while taeyong reached forward to squeezed her cheeks “when i say it’s done it’s freakin over”

she shook his hands off which made him laugh

that’s how the video ends

#trouble.era

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barbarasbae · 4 years ago

Text

Even in Hawkins- Nerves

Part 15 of Even in Hawkins

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: hospitals, call back/mentions of miscarraige, healing, Neil makes an appearance, complicated feelings are had ( they’re starting to figure their dynamics out)

Hi welcome to the literal 8th version of this chapter that I’ve written in the past...4 months? Finally finally happy with the final product.

Billy was in the hospital for 5 more days, Max and Steve helping him practice walking. Y/n would help, but Max felt she needed to do it and Steve was stronger than Y/n, so it was probably for the best. “You’re doing great, Billy.” She called, the group turning around. His face was pink. “Do you need to slow down?” Max asked, concerned. “M’ fine.” He walked back to the room, Max trading her spot with Y/n. “Oof! Forgot how heavy you are.” She teased, Billy nipping her ear. She giggled, nudging him back. They helped him back in bed, the nurse on duty coming in to check on his stitches. Steve squeezed Y/n’s shoulder, bumping his nose against her ear. “You okay?”

“Yeah..just..nervous.” She admitted. “Why?”

“Just about..stuff. Like stitches and stairs.” She sat next to Billy, looking at the clock. Visiting hours were almost over. “Can you stay tonight?” Billy asked quietly, looking at his lap. “Sure. Something wrong?”

He shrugged, a mild pout on his face. She leaned in, Max and Steve starting to chatter about something. “It’s okay to be nervous.” She promised in a whisper, pressing her cheek against his, feeling heat flood his cheeks at the contact. “You embarrassed, silly?”

He grumbled, Y/n smiling. “Hey, do you think you two could give us a moment alone?” Y/n asked Max and Steve, nudging Billy. Both looking reluctant. “I’m really hungry actually. Could you go get me a sandwich or something?” Billy asked, taking the hint. The pair walked out, Steve looking a little flushed. Billy reached over, grabbing her closest hand. Y/n rested her chin on his shoulder, poking his cheek with her nose. She felt the alpha let out a shuddering breath, laying back into the pillows. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He whimpered, turning his head. “I can’t-all those people. How can I just go home and act like nothing happened?” He asked in a whisper. Y/n was quiet. How can you?

“I don’t know, B. I guess you’ll just have to try to live your best or something like that?” That made his mouth quirk in a little smile. “Or something.” His voice was small. Y/n found Billy was turning more and more inward, getting quieter and quieter. Very similar to how he was when he first woke up. This wouldn’t do, of course. The omega in Y/n was practically screaming for her to fix it.

“Bill?”

“Hm?”

“Love you.” She told him softly, the blond giving her a brilliant smile. “Love you too.” She leaned back into him, Billy pulling her back into a hug, her nose pressed back into his hair. Billy pressed his nose into her scent gland, letting out a long sigh.

“Can’t wait to scent you how I actually want to.” She murmured, feeling the tip of Billy’s nose rubbing along the curve of her neck and became extremely aware that the doctor was coming into the room. She pulled back gently. “No-” He whined, following her.

“As much as I’m enjoying it, we have an audience.” She cooed, kissing him and helping him lay down. She sat next to him in a chair, a nurse walking over to check his vitals. Billy grabbed for her hand, the heart monitor speeding up. Y/n rubbed the inside of his palm, not wanting Billy to strain against his IV.

“Hey William. How are you feeling today?” He shrugged. “Well, that’s better than a grunt I suppose.” The nurse took his temperature, Dr. Owens flipping through the file. “You walked earlier today?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I figured we’d discuss some of what you’ll need to do during recovery so check out on Friday can go faster.”

“I get to go home?” Dr. Owens nodded. “I have a list I’ll hand off to you but for now I’ll read you the most important ones. No getting stitches wet for at least another three weeks. You have to quit smoking. We can’t risk it with your weak lungs. No lifting anything heavy for at least 8 weeks and no driving heavy machinery for another 2. I want you to come see me once a week for therapy and at least another session once a week for physical therapy after your 8 weeks is up.”

“Okay.” Billy’s voice was small. “This isn’t necessary, but I am going to recommend cutting your hair.

“Doc, you gotta leave me with something.”

“Unless you have someone do it for you, because you strike me as someone who takes care of it, I recommend cutting it so you don’t have to worry about lifting your arms above your shoulder. Easy way to rip stitches.” Billy was getting upset. “We’ll figure something out.” Y/n promised, trying to reassure him. “Sandra here will tell you how to take care of your stitches. I’ll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything.”

“Would it be alright for me to stay here overnight?” The nurse nodded, going to get a special form for her. Steve and Max finally came back, passing out sandwiches. “You need me to get you anything?” The other omega asked before leaning his weight on the bed, eyes darting back and forth between the couple in front of him. “I think I’m okay for now. I’ll just go home in the morning for new clothes and stuff probably. You need anything, B?”

“I’m good.” Steve handed Billy his sandwich, looking pleased with himself when the alpha took a bite. “Would it be alright if I hug you before I leave?” Steve asked, more so looking at Y/n then he was Billy. “Yeah. That would be nice.” The blond smiled. The older omega squeezed in tight, the slight scenting not going unnoticed by Y/n. “I feel like I need a hug as well.” She teased, scenting Steve as well, a little chirp escaping her at the wonderfully safe, warm and familiar scent of Steve. “Well now I’m a little jealous.” Billy teased, the omegas laughing. “Ready Max?”

“I don’t wanna goooo.” She whined, dragging herself over to the cot. “Love you Billy.” She mumbled, embracing him in a way that was less a hug and more max wilting into him. “Love you too, shitbird.” She stuck her tongue out, Steve having to drag her away.

Y/n turned the tv on, the pair inhaling turkey sandwiches from the cafeteria.

She felt Billy’s eyes on her, the omega leaning closer. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Did you ever go to the hospital after, you know?”

“What?”

“The baby?” Billy whispered and suddenly the only noise in the room was the tv. “Oh.”

“...”

“Yeah, I did. That’s the only reason I knew it was...a miscarraige.” She told him softly, the alpha reaching for her hand. “I could have gone with you.” She shook her head. “It was just me and my mom. I was so scared, I wasn’t even thinking about trying to tell anyone else.”

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand, Y/n wiping at her face. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie, Y/n.”

“I’m not. Promise,”

She slept curled in the recliner, waking up every time a nurse came to check on Billy. Everyone continued to visit him throughout the week, the alpha forgetting to mention his impending release coming up.

The morning of Billy’s last day in the hospital, Billy received a 5 page pamphlet of instructions as well as a non-disclosure agreement. Dr. Owens mentioned he should be getting a check in the mail in a few weeks and that he needed to come back Tuesday for his first physical therapy appointment. Then he was free to go.

“Well, first day free. What do you want to do?” She asked the blond as they got on the road. “I want a burger.”

“Okay, greasy burger coming up. It okay if we make a few more stops after?” He nodded, playing with one of the strings on his hoodie.

She pulled into the video store parking lot, Billy following behind her, tugging his sleeves down. She reached for his hand, the blond eagerly taking it. “Y/n?” Steve called from the counter, Robin flipping through a comic book. They came over. “Holy shit. Billy! Hey man!” He came around the counter and hugged the alpha, Billy hugging back tightly. Steve tried to be subtle about scenting him but failed pretty spectacularly, causing the other omega to laugh. Steve smiled sheepishly, blushing when Billy buried his face in Steve’s neck. “You’re not the only ones here, dinguses.” Robin chided, Steve yanking away. “I think I should get a hug too.” Y/n teased, Steve throwing his arms around her. “This okay?” He asked quietly, nosing at her scent gland. “Oh-uh. y-yeah. Yeah it’s okay.” She hugged back tightly. “So what brings you here?”

“Movies.”

“Oh, right.” Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He hopped back over the counter, Robin rolling her eyes. Billy meandered, grabbing a couple movies. “Okay, that’s gonna be $4.79.” Steve chirped, smiling up at Billy. Y/n handed off a 5. “I don’t want any change.”

“Hold on.” He grabbed a couple candy bars. “$5 solid.”

“Thanks, Stevie.” Billy piped up, reaching for Y/n’s hand. “No problem.”

“Steven, you’re drooling.” Robin sighed, closing the comic. “I am not!”

Y/n smiled. “Wanna come over for movies tomorrow?”

“Oh, sure.”

“Cool. It’s a date.” Y/n winked, Steve turning pink. “Later, pretty boy.” Billy threw in a wink of his own, Robin cackling as they turned to leave. “Dingus, get off the floor.” Y/n and Billy giggled, the former pulling the blond alpha outside. After getting snacks, Y/n started toward his house to let Billy rest. They pulled into his driveway, Billy looking tense. “Want me to walk you to the door?” He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll call you after dinner if I can come over?” She nodded. “Love you, B.” She leaned over, nuzzling the alpha’s scent gland. He let out an involuntary purr. “Okay, get off of me. Won’t ever get home.” He teased, kissing her forehead. She waved as he walked up the pavement, driving off.

Max opened the door after he knocked on it, stunned. “B-billy?!”

“Hi Max.”

She threw her arms around him, crying. He put the box down and hugged her back, Max not letting him go for a good 5 minutes. Neil watched them, not saying anything yet. Susan pulled him into a tight hug, saying she had been so worried about him. Max followed him into his room, asking question after question. “Maxine! Let him breathe.” Neil called. “It’s okay.” Billy said to her. She nodded and scooted into her room, Billy laying down on his bed. Neil came in, Billy sitting up in a panic. “Come to the kitchen.” He did, cautious. His body still hurt so much, he wasn’t ready for what pain might be coming. Susan set a plate of food in front of him. Neil pat his shoulder (a little too hard, mind you), squeezing in a way that made Billy straighten his spine in response. “We were so worried, Billy.” Neil said, voice...quiet?

Susan nodded. “What did the doctors say?”

“Oh, I don’t remember everything but I have some instructions. I have to do some physical therapy and they had to do surgery on my lungs. Ma’am.”

“MAXINE!”

“WHAT?!”

“GET YOUR BROTHERS PAPERS FROM THE HOSPITAL.”

She brought them in, Billy slowly eating the soup in front of him. Billy saw his father’s eyes go wide. “Don’t worry. The guys who own the mall are paying for everything. They don’t want us to sue them.” He repeated the lie Dr. Owens had instructed him to tell. Neil patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And if they don’t pay for all of it I’m gonna sue them for all their worth.” Billy nodded. And then he was left alone. Well, sorta. Susan wouldn’t stop staring at him as he walked from the kitchen to the bathroom to his bedroom. He flipped through the pages Dr. Owens had given, grimacing at the appointment list. He was just tired. And the thought of having to do all that was exhausting. “Billy?”

“Hm?”

“I-mom got you something.” He got up, grunting. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She had a phone in her hands. “They said I can connect it for you in here, if you want?”

“Sure, Max.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Or not…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just tired.” She nodded. “Can I put it here?” He nodded, laying back down. “Thanks, Max.”

“Call your girlfriend.” She poked his arm. He smiled. “You’re not gonna be using this to call you know who lets get that straight now.” She huffed but didn’t yell at him. He called Y/n after his door was shut.

“Hey baby.” He smiled, speaking to her softly. “Hi. Do you wanna come over?”

“Can I bring Max?”

“Sure. What time?”

“I don’t care. Now?”

“See you in twenty.”

They watched back to the future in Y/n’s room, Billy having an arm around each girl. Max only lasted about ten minutes before she complained his arm was heavy. Y/n played with his hair, kissing his cheek every once and awhile. She missed him like hell. And she fell asleep during the movie like 40 minutes in. “Baby, you’re missing it.” He cooed, her resting on his shoulder. She blinked awake, nudging his nose with hers. “I’m probably not gonna make it through the movie.” She said, putting her hand on his chest. Max had moved so she was resting on her elbows towards the end of the bed, kicking her feet. Y/n turned on her side, hiding her face in Billy’s neck, the alpha rubbing his cheek on top of her head.

“Isn’t Marty kinda hot, Y/n? Y/n?” Max turned her head to see her older brother and his girlfriend asleep. She groaned and got up. “Gross.” She actually thought they were really cute but she would never admit that out loud. She decided to venture downstairs, Y/n’s mom in the kitchen. “Hey sweetie. Who are you?”

“Max Mayfield. I’m Billy’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Do you have any ice cream?” Y/n’s mom let her take it upstairs, Max grimacing at the site of Billy drooling on his girlfriend.

Max bounced as she sat, waking Y/n up. “What’s happening?”

“Want some ice cream?”

“Sure.” The girls shared ice cream, finishing the movie.

“Billy, you need to wake up.”

“Five more minutes…” He pleaded, rolling into the pillows. “Ah, fuck.”

“Careful. Gotta take it easy.” She helped him sit up. “I gotta take you home.”

“Don’t wanna leave.” He whined, pushing his face into her chest. “Billy I’m tired.” Max whined, sugar crash hitting her hard. “You need to go get sleep before our date tomorrow.” Y/n whispered, Billy smiling. “Fine, fine. I’m getting up.” He grumbled, Y/n driving a sleepy Max and Billy home, stomach in knots at the prospect of their movie date tomorrow with Steve.

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kaibacorpintern · 4 years ago

Note

For the prompt thing: kaiba + yuugi + professionalism!

this was fun!! thanks to @dxmichelle for the retail stories. kaiba as a retail worker is like me when I was a retail worker because when i worked at a barnes and noble, i spent a LOT of time perfectly squaring the books. anyway all the kaibacorp adventure park castmembers get some fat fucking pay raise/benefit boosts after this

***

This was all Jounouchi’s fucking fault and Seto was never agreeing to any stupid fucking bets again. When did he become a good duelist, instead of just a lucky one? And he knew it, too, announcing his plans to win the Domino City Invitational with the kind of brash, easy confidence that was a front for nothing, a Roman wall around nothing, with nothing he needed to defend on the other side. As hard to read as a coloring book. Asshole.

“The gods have struck men down for less hubris than this,” Seto snapped, over a game of poker at Yuugi’s weekly game night. Mokuba had badgered him into attending after their return from the yearly strategic planning retreat with the board. You need to be around normal people! No more sharks in people suits!

“So what? You don’t believe in higher powers, Rich Boy.”

“In my experience, a god and a higher power are two separate things."

“Oh, okay, Neeshee. Maybe you don’t believe in me, but you do believe in games,” Jounouchi said.

“Devastating insight,” Seto said. “And it’s Nietzsche.”

“Bless you. Don't be rude and sneeze into a tissue next time. Let’s make a bet. When I win the Invitational, you… pick up all my shifts at the Kame Game Shop for a week. I take home all the paychecks, but you do all the work. You know, bog-standard capitalism.”

Seto rolled his eyes. “When you lose, you give the jet a good wash and wax. Then you throw your deck and your Duel Disk into the river, and never duel again.”

“Deal. And I tell you what, Kaiba. One day we’re gonna meet across the field, and you’re going to lose, but it won’t even bother you, because you had just so much fun,” Jounouchi said, extending his hand across the table, with a savage grin.

“Don’t fucking threaten me,” Seto said, shaking his hand.

Asshole! Jounouchi stomped the competition with an ease Seto hadn’t seen since he was fourteen and unceremoniously sacking Inspector Haga at the Pan Pacific Final.

At least Yuugi gave him his own nametag, instead of making him wear Jounouchi’s: a plastic, turtle-shaped badge with a white space for his name. There was a line below it that said MY FAVORITE GAME IS... chess, Seto wrote in moodily, with the marker. Then he affixed it to his dark-green apron, neatly and precisely, just over his heart.

Yuugi nudged the curtain into the stock room aside, wearing a matching apron and smiling like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“Ready to clock in - oh, no. This is the Kame Game Shop,” he said, reaching up to fix Seto’s name tag, tweaking it to sit slightly at an angle. “Perfect right angles are for squares.”

“A KaibaCorp Adventure Park castmember wouldn’t be caught dead with their nametag this sloppy,” Seto snapped.

“It’s not sloppy. It’s jaunty and playful,” Yuugi corrected. “Now, let’s review. You’re an engineering prodigy, so I’m sure you can handle the register. What do we do when a customer walks in?”

Seto sighed, hands bracing on his hips as his eyes rolled towards the ceiling. That asshole picked up five full days of double shifts.

“Welcome them when they walk in,” he said, as Yuugi nodded along. “Ask if they need any help. If they’re just browsing, leave them alone. Provide recommendations if they ask.”

“And?” Yuugi prompted, raising his eyebrows.

“Wrap and bag their purchases and thank them for wasting my fucking time.”

Yuugi reached up, pressing the tips of his index fingers into Seto’s cheeks. “No! Smile!”

Seto bared his teeth.

“Can’t believe people call you a bad sport,” Yuugi said. “Maybe just smize instead. Go! Clock in! Upsell your own Duel Disk!”

Seto let out a final dramatic huff, took the clipboard off its hook on the wall, and added his billion-dollar contract signature to the timesheet, below several rows of Jounouchi’s scrawl.

***

After four hours, Seto took his lunch break, an all-too-brief thirty minutes in the alley behind the Game Shop, leaning back with one foot propped against the wall, answering emails on his phone with all the speed and fury his thumbs could muster. It was high summer. Vines spilled over the wall on the other side of the alleyway, limp and vibrating with heat. Even the shade under the wall was warm.

The side door opened. He turned his head, preparing a choice little bon mot for Yuugi, and paused, his breath hitching in his chest with a wild regret, birdlike, startled suddenly out of hiding.

He stared at Sugoroku, privately cursing Jounouchi for the nth time for making the fucking bet, winning the fucking Invitational, and putting him here in this fucking alleyway, staring at Sugoroku. It was too late to go back inside. Sugoroku stared back, hoary-haired, stooped under the weight of his years. Even wizened, with skin like old, pale leather, the family resemblances were clear: the same big, warm eyes, the same bright smile, no less weakened for age.

He shuffled out the door, dragging a small garbage bag of recycling beside him.

“Open that up and drop this in, will you please? My back’s not what it used to be.”

“Yes,” Seto said, rapidly stooping to take the bag. Should he add sir? Yes, sir? He hadn’t said 'sir' to anyone in ten years. What was he supposed to say? Sorry. I was not myself. I was myself, but the worst version. It was the beta release of me and we have removed the bugs (the murder bugs) in advance of stable release. All remaining bugs are acceptable. We have added accurate legal and medical disclaimers to all our SolidVision and Virtual World products about how the sensory intensity of KaibaCorp proprietary holographic technology may exacerbate existing heart conditions. I am taking good care of her and I love her and she loves me. Who? Her. The dragon.

He dropped the bag into the recycling bin several steps away and turned around to face Sugoroku, summoning his resolve with an inhale, exhale, firm and deep.

“How’s your first day?” Sugoroku said.

“My company isn’t going down in flames without me,” Seto said. “Color me surprised.”

“How’s your first day here?”

“Enthralling. The adrenaline high of consumer retail is really just something else - ”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you over all that racket you’re making,” Sugoroku said. Seto paused, bewildered, mouth half-open - and shut it, color flaring across his face.

“Uh - fine,” he muttered. “It’s fine. I helped an eight-year-old pick out a board game.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She came in with all the allowance she’d saved up and she wanted something she could play with her sister. I sold her on mancala."

"That's a classic. Not a board game, but a classic. And hard to sell to children."

Seto scoffed. "I hate the crap they pass off as board games these days, with all the… fiddly, little plastic pieces and the arcane rules. Children get drawn in by the colors, but they don't have patience for the rules, so it ends up forgotten at the bottom of a bookshelf somewhere with half the pieces sucked up in the vacuum cleaner. Mancala is simple. You can play it with a patch of dirt and a handful of gravel. But if you want to win, you need to play with skill and wit. It's timeless. It’s elegant."

"Well, you've sold me. I haven’t played mancala in years. Shall we play tomorrow? During your lunch break?"

Seto said nothing, resisting the urge to bite his lip, a bad habit and a sign of nervousness.

“Yuugi speaks very highly of you, you know,” Sugoroku said. “I’d love to know why.”

He chuckled and shuffled back inside, leaving Seto fuming with an odd, stomach-clenching embarrassment.

He checked his phone. Three more minutes left of his lunch break, and his feet were aching. He should’ve worn different shoes, not the Chelsea boots. Tomorrow. Mancala? Damn Jounouchi to hell. Better shoes.

***

“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Do you have Legendary Heroes II?”

Seto abandoned his task of aligning board game boxes at perfect right angles. Fuck jaunty and playful.

“No. That’s not out until December,” he said. The production issues on Legendary Heroes II were a fucking nightmare, and the thought of making his game developers crunch - making them miserable, overworked, and more likely to quit and get snapped up by Schroeder Corp - gave him hives. So he’d pushed release back to December, allowing the small hit to his stock under the rationale that the holiday retail season would make up for it. But she didn’t need to know that.

“But - it’s my son’s birthday next Saturday, and Legendary Heroes is his favorite game,” she said, hands clenching loosely by her stomach, a gesture of pleading.

“I’m delighted to hear it. It does not change the fact that the game literally does not exist,” Seto said.

“Can you just check in the back? He’s been asking about this for months now,” she said, and Seto clicked his teeth, face slipping into a snarl - from the corner of his eye, he saw Yuugi, watching him.

Smile, he mouthed, and pressed his fingers into his own cheeks, putting on a manic, plastic grin.

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” Seto said, smiling, and stormed away. As expected, he did not find Legendary Heroes II in the stock room. He dawdled, checking his email, firing off a few replies, advising Mokuba on the right way to handle the zesty temperament of their general counsel - this’ll be fun, Mokuba said, I get to run KaibaCorp without you, like, dying or something - WHAT? - and stashed his phone back into his apron pocket.

“My apologies,” he said, returning to the woman. “We don’t have it in stock. If you’d like to pre-order it, it’ll be available just in time for Christmas. Just log on to the KaibaCorp website and enter the Kame Game Shop as your pick-up location. If you’re still looking for a birthday gift, I strongly suggest the new Duel Disk. The design is much better for children than the old one - lighter and more streamlined, with less intense haptics. If he already has a Duel Disk, he can bring that in for a trade-in.”

“Oh, perfect!” she said. “We'll do that. Thank you. You’ve been so helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Have a fantastic day,” Seto said, still smiling. He watched her leave and returned to his board game boxes, feeling hideously, fabulously smug. A customer walked in, carrying a bare Duel Disk under his arm, and Seto shot him a cheerful welcome. The man ignored him, heading straight to Yuugi at the counter.

***

Yuugi swallowed, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin.

"I'm sorry. We cannot accept a Duel Disk return without a box or a receipt," he said. Clearly stolen.

"But I bought it here two weeks ago. And the stupid piece of shit is defective," the man said. "I want my money back!"

Loud enough that Seto, re-stocking towards the front of the store, turned towards them, with open curiosity.

"What's the nature of the defect?" Yuugi said.

"It just doesn't fucking work. I don't know what else to tell you," the guy said. "Are you gonna do the return or not?!"

His least favorite type of customer: smashing reason apart with the baseball bat of belligerence. Yuugi steeled himself for the inevitable slew of insults.

"Sir. I can't do the return without a receipt - "

A hand came down on his shoulder, pulling him with polite insistence out of the way. Seto, with a canny, feline smile, the kind that foretold bloodshed on the dueling field.

"Oh no, Yuugi," he said. "Let me handle this."

#fanfiction #norealgoodbyes

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kumawrites · 5 years ago

Note

hi!! idk how requests work but coffeeshop au with oikawa as the flirty barista and you're just trying to find a place to study okay bye 😶😶

iced vanilla bean latte

☆ oikawa tooru x reader ☆

☆ - 1.7k words

☆ - a/n: i based this 100% in a local coffee shop in my area that i frequent except i h8 coffee

☆ - taglist: @miceonmars

“Y/N, Obama was the last president of the United States, not the third.” Kiyoko looked at you with a pitiful gaze in response to your answer.

“Oh.” You blinked once. Twice. A third time for good measure. So your American Politics class was needless to say, not going very well. Honestly, you didn’t even know why you were taking an American politics class when you lived in Japan. Actually, you knew why. Because of your horrible habit of procrastinating literally anything that can be procrastinated, you foolishly waited until the very last day that you could to register for classes. And unsurprisingly, most of them had been completely filled, leaving American Politics to be the only history class that you were able to take. Which would have been just fine, had you not procrastinated studying and even taking notes.

You stared blankly down at your notebook that was barely a quarter full. Instead of taking notes and actually paying attention in class, you either skipped or distracted yourself playing games on your phone. Your professor never notified you since you sat right in the middle of the lecture hall, not drawing much attention at all. Maybe, that wasn’t a good thing, however. You had no connection to your professor at all, and asking for help this late in the game just didn’t feel right, which is extremely irrational but you really didn’t care.

Your problem would really just have been solved if you did care. Too bad you didn’t. However, you’re stuck in a bit of a pickle now, not knowing even the basics of the class, with midterms coming up and a frighteningly fast rate. You were bound to fail, and your parents would not be very happy about that. So, you decided that it was finally time to actually study. Except studying really meant learning all of the material that you had covered for half of the semester in about a week.

Luckily for you, you had great friends who were super smart and actually studious to help! Kiyoko had already taken the class, being a grade ahead of you, and had graciously blessed you with her notebook full of her beautiful notes. It was truly astounding how notes could be so pretty. Yachi, on the other hand, gave your studying tips and ways to actually study well. Without those two, you would have failed the midterm for sure, and most likely the course all together.

You were currently studying with Kiyoko in the library, well trying to at least. Apparently, you knew less than you actually thought.

“Wait, what’s a Conservative? Is that a branch of Congress?” You weren’t doing too hot.

“It’s a political party. They’re a more extreme version of a the Republican Party.” You nodded your head, slowly understanding. Why were politics so complicated?

“Oh, okay. I think I get it. So, Liberals are Democrats but more extreme?”

“That’s right.” Kiyoko nodded her head as you scratched down some of her notes into your own notebook. Kiyoko’s phone pinged and she grabbed it from the table, turning it on. She read the message, sighed, replied, and began packing up her things. “Sorry, Y/N, but my boss just messaged me. I have to go in tonight, Hana got sick.” You nodded and gave Kiyoko a slight smile and a wave as she left. Now it was just you, left to your own devices. You were half tempted to close your books and play Fire Emblem, but that seemed like a poor long term choice.

You kept at it for a surprisingly long amount of time, around an hour, until a rowdy group came in. Even though it was a library, it wasn’t the most quiet of places on campus, and many groups liked to come in to work on group projects. You had no problem with them, until they set down their bags and their bodies at the table right next to yours, still chatting loudly. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t bring your earbuds with you. Since you assumed you would just be studying with Kiyoko the whole time, you didn’t bother to pack them. The one moment in your life when you needed them the most. A tragedy.

You sighed and packed up your things, considering giving up studying for the day, until you realized you were running out of time and were still extremely confused. And tired. You yawned as your left the library, wondering where to go from there. Going back to your dorm would only lead to you playing video games and ignoring everything else, so that was off the list. Every other place you could think of would be far too noisy to actually study. You were in quite the pickle.

You were really close to giving up for the hundredth time until you passed by a coffee shop that you had never seen on campus before. Was that always there? No, it couldn’t have been. It was in the middle of a route you used all of the time to get across campus. But how did you never notice that this was there? The shop had large windows that you could peek through to see a very classy interior. Everything seemed to be made of a walnut coloured wood, excluding the black chairs and stools. There weren’t too many people in the shop, just a small crowd. It looked peaceful. You stood there for a bit before deciding to walk inside. Maybe this is where you could study in peace.

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with the smell of fresh roasted coffee beans. You stopped a vacant table and placed your belonging on it and took a seat. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, even though they seemed to be made of metal. The vibe in the entire shop was very calm. You could get used to this.

You took your notes out and began to study, creating flashcards and making your notes a bit cleaner and more cohesive. This was the kind of productivity that you needed to have on a daily basis. Too bad that this energy was for sure going to leave your body once you finish your midterm. Another yawn left your body, and you turned your head towards the counter. You could buy a coffee. That wasn’t going to break your bank account. Yeah.

You stood up and headed towards the counter, staring at the menu. Everything on the menu sounded fine, but you didn’t know exactly what you wanted.

“Hey! What can I do for you today?” A cheery voice broke you form your thoughts and you brought your eyes back down to look at who was speaking to you. The barista that greeted you had a charming smile on his face, one that you knew just drew people in. He was pretty, for sure, but you didn’t have time to think about pretty boys, too focused on trying to pass your class.

“Hi there. I’ve never been here, so I’m not too sure what to get. What would you recommend?” You have him a polite smile in return, and shifted your gaze back to the menu. There were so many options that you were a bit overwhelmed with choices

“Hmm..” The barista tapped his chin and scrunched his face a bit. “What about the vanilla bean latte? It’s really good iced!” He suggested and you nodded your head.

“Okay, sure. I’ll have that as a 24 ounce, then.” You ordered such a large drink since you assumed that you would be here for a while, having so much material left to study.

“Oh, it’s Y/N.” You replied and he hummed, typing it into the tablet on the counter. Your total came up and you handed him your card, making sure to leave a tip.

“That’s a cute name, just like you!” You stared at him. It was like someone had just stopped a record right in the middle of a song. What? Did you hear that right?

“Sorry, um, what?”

“I just think you’re super cute. We’ll have that vanilla bean right out for ya, Y/N.” He winked and walked over to his coworker who was making your drink. You vaguely remember his coworker scolding him, telling him to ‘stop flirting with the customers shithead’, but you really weren’t listening. Were you just, flirted with? Is that how this works? You for sure were not expecting that to happen.

You returned to your seat and opened up your notes, trying to forget the flirting(?) and focus on your studies. That’s what you came here to do, not flirt with a cute barista that you would for sure go on a date with. But, he was probably just a flirty person, you figured. If his coworker scolded him like that, it was probably a common occurrence, meaning you shouldn’t take it to heart or anything. He was just super cute.

Only a few minutes after you began to actually focus in on your work, you noticed that a large plastic cup full of iced coffee and a plate with a muffin was placed down at your table. Looking up, you saw the cute barista with a beaming smile on his face.

“Here you go, Y/N. Hope you like it.”

“Oh, I didn’t order a muffin.” You tilted your head up at the man who chuckled in response.

“I know. It’s on the house.” And with that, he gave you a tiny wave and disappeared into the back room, leaving you shook. Was this protocol? No, definitely not. Was this protocol for him flirting with every female customer? His boss wouldn’t let him give out that much free food. Was he really, for sure, actually, flirting with you? Was this real? Are you real? Okay, not time for an existential crisis.

You picked up the muffin on the plate, and noticed a small note that was placed under it.. It read, ‘text me!!!! :) xxx-xxx-xxxx - oikawa’. At this point, you were pretty damn sure he was flirting with you. Holy shit. He was flirting with you. Oikawa, you assumed his name was, still hadn’t come out of the storage room, so you couldn’t gauge his reactions or anything. You stared at your phone that you picked up like it was an explosive, ready to detonate. Were you actually going to text him? Was this actually a good idea? You know what, fuck American politics, you had something far more pressing to deal with at the moment.

y/n: hey is this oikawa? this is y/n

oikawa: hey cutie!! ;)

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x reader #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #request

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codylabs · 4 years ago

Text

My Top 10 Ships

I’m not a very romantic sort of guy, I’m not real forgiving to departures from canon, I get easily annoyed at inconsistencies, and I don’t watch much television and movies, so in order for me to ship something, it has to be a GOOD ship. I default toward rejecting ships, so to impress ME, it must be built on logic, and evidence, it’s gotta be something I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept. And it’s gotta have story behind it, something deep, some hefty emotional weight; if it doesn’t tickle this man’s cold reptilian heart with strong beats and excellent writing, it goes straight to the trash. I absoLUTELY will not stand for any of these weird little cute, pretty, pandering, trashy crack ships that everybody seems to be clumsily throwing characters into. Most ships are trash ships. They are not good ships.

You think your ship is good? You like your ship?

You ship it?

No you don’t.

Get out of here.

You will listen to me. I will tell you. Look at me. I’m the Captain now.

Here are the 10 good ships.

10. The Rocinante, The Expanse

A resoundingly excellent ship. Unlike most ships you see out there, this thing was actually designed with realistic space combat in mind. It’s got 6 computer-controlled gatling turrets covering every angle, it accelerates in whatever direction it’s pointing, its bridge is right in the center to put as much armor as possible between enemies and crew, overall a much better-designed vehicle than most everything you see about.

That being said, I didn’t have much connection to this ship. Its crew weren’t really interesting, the aesthetic was kinda bleak, and I basically stopped watching after the phazon showed up. And the Rocinante itself has pretty poor redundancy. Enemy bullets can literally just pass through it (as is realistic for a ship this size) so how about multiple main engines huh? Absolutely tragic oversight. And its interior looks too much like an Apple product. How are you supposed to work on it? Where are the wires and pipes??? The handholds?????

9. Ares IV M.A.V., The Martian

Almost more of a symbol than a ship. A symbol of freedom, of escape. A beautiful symbol. This is what Mark Watney spends the whole movie trying to reach, with an entire world backing him up, and an entire world trying to stop him. It’s the goal of the movie, and it just looks so beautiful when he finally reaches it and sees it sitting there in the middle of the desert, ass down, nose up; a tall, proud symbol. This ship has a special significance for me because the author of the original book really did his research on the scientific requirements and details of a Mars Ascent Vehicle, and it was actually inspired by the E.R.V. in another book, ‘A Case For Mars’, which I read when I was younger. “Makes its own methane-oxygen fuel on-site by using nuclear power to break down CO2 in the atmosphere and combining it with stored hydrogen, don’t you know.” I say as I adjust my spectacles and puff my pipe.

The M.A.V. in the movie does have a few issues, such as hallway and rooms running straight up through where the fuel tanks ought to be (instead of a lift/ladder on the exterior) and a rugged, industrial aesthetic that looks too heavy and cumbersome for a ship of its type. (And you’re seriously telling me he couldn’t have used the capsule’s RCS to literally bypass the movie’s entire climax? WHY NOT? The book never mentioned him having to drain the monopropellant!!!) But I’ll let that slide. Great movie.

8. Biggest Boy, The Greatship

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name. You know what, I think it’s actually just called the Greatship.)

So it’s a starship the size of Jupiter, empty, unmanned, perfectly mysterious, that comes gliding into the galaxy a couple million years into humanity’s future. Where did it come from? Who made it and how? Good questions. It’s powered by matter-antimatter annihilation reactions from within planet-sized internal tanks, and its engines use hydrogen and fusion exhaust as reaction mass, and its hull is made of hyperfiber, a super-strong fictional material with a 4-dimensional lattice structure, able to weather impacts by spreading them out over various dimensions where the impact occurred in a different place.

I hope that after the first few entries, you didn’t get the impression that I am somehow against futuristic, far-out, impossible technologies. Quite the opposite! I love me some hyperdrive and anti-gravity and A.I. and stuff. However! Ships must be well-designed for the technology available, and must take no creative liberties except those explicitly allowed by the difference in the setting. The laws of physics don’t disappear when the magic crystals come out, the magic crystals are merely a different tool to combat them. Engineering will always exist, should start with the tools and work outward, form follows function. Star Wars ships, for instance, are trash because they don’t mount their repulsorlift arrays consistently, they’re not aerodynamic, and their engines aren’t aligned around their center of masses.

So I like the Great Ship. Although the story is pretty far-fetched, and a lot of crazy, out-there scifi events transpire deep in the ship’s depths, the book always strictly kept its own rules in mind, and never broke those rules, no matter how outlandishly crazy things got. Thanks for comprehending something so incomprehensible, Robert Reed. You inspired me miles in my own work.

7. The Ghost, The Sea Wolf

The story may be fiction, but the Ghost was as real as ghosts can be.

Jack London did his research. No, not research, he LIVED this. The Ghost is a seal-hunting schooner much like one that he served aboard during his rollercoaster of a life, and he captured every detail of its operation, of its requirements, of its mechanics, and of the incredible toll it took on the people that lived such a life. The boat is made to feel as oppressive and claustrophobic as a prison, as if it were an extension of the monster that commanded it, directly in contrast to the expansive beauty of the sea around them. My goodness, what a beautiful book. What a moving, interesting, challenging book, with such a story! This book is one of the climaxes of fiction, and one of the inspirations for Shifting Sands, if I remember correctly. I would recommend this book to anybody. Beautiful.

6. Ferbnessa, Phineas and Ferb

Okay, so I hope we can all agree that Vanessa is nothing but bad news. But that being said, Ferb knows exactly the relationship he wants, and by golly, he goes for it. Most male characters would stutter or get nervous or lose confidence around their crush, especially if that crush is about a hundred miles out of their league or if they already had another boyfriend, but Ferb? No. Not my man Ferb. He’s slighly too much of a legend to fall for such childish pitfalls. He doesn’t posture, he doesn’t creep or flirt or try to sabotage the other men in her life, he doesn’t even speak a word, he just maintains his blank expression, cranks his own already-inhuman levels of confidence and competence up through the roof to borderline olympian levels, and continues being himself. These rare moments of Ferbly passion are some of the few open windows we get into the grandiose machinations of his mysterious mind, and he uses it to bring out the best in Vanessa as well. And in the future episode, set years down the line, wouldn’t you know it, they’re a pair.

All joking aside though, this whole ship is basically comedy. It’s a super small part of the show, it’s only in like 5 episodes, it’s a running gag, it’s hilarious. It’s great. And it fits right into the tone and the feel of the show, because P&F’s entire world really is a comedy about going for it and living your dreams. So this is just the best thing ever. It’s been about a decade since then, and I still burst out laughing at how much of a pristine picture of ideal masculinity Ferb is. Become like Ferb, boys, and you will become men.

Legendary.

Eat your heart out, Dipper.

3. Shunk, Voltron

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

Huge props to the voltron team for making a female alien character (even a romantic interest) with NO BOOBS. Do you have ANY idea how sick and tired I am of artists throwing a big ol’ pair of balonkadongs onto lobsters and snakes when almost everything in the real world besides folks and cows have either 0 or 8+ of them? Everything’s gotta be traditionally sexy and recognizably-feminine and GREAT now you just canonized all the porn! Disgusteg

but now look at Shay. She’s a rock person. She’s got silicon-based biology, she probably weighs 500 lbs and bleeds sand. She’s got enormous hands and weird knees and no nose and lumps everywhere, AND YET STILL the show plays all the tropes 100% straight with her being a fair young maiden and a sweet princess. And it works because Hunk is just this great guy who’s exactly as sweet and caring, and he’s not the most attractive of the Paladins either, so he probably lives his life looking past appearances. He doesn’t care that she’s an alien rock, he cares about her as a person, and she obviously worships him right back. Even though Shay is shown in season 1 and then never again until season 7, Hunk still avoids alternative romantic entanglements, citing ‘a rock I know’, and it just adds to his persona as this infinitely loyal teddy bear. I tip my hat to this, the single ship I know that’s 0% sexy and 100% wholesome.

And Hunk is the best Paladin. He’s just the greatest. I revere him. I salute him as he walks past. This man among men. Look at this guy. I don’t even care about any of the other ships in Voltron (I mean, the Castle of Lions is okay, but it’s outriggers are kinda spindly) but Hunk and Shay deserve each other.

4. Wendip, Gravity Falls

So Dipper’s 12/13, and Wendy’s 15. That’s a pretty giant age difference. Maybe you fans have fooled yourselves into thinking it’s not, but it is. She knows it. He knows it. His sister knows it. Your mom knows it. So halfway through the show, when he finally got around to confessing his feelings to her, she told him no. Sure they’re still friends, sure they like each other, and sure they have a lot of chemistry and they still have a movie night every Friday, but at the end of the day, he’s a smelly little midget who has to go back to California at the end of the Summer, and she’s a older girl with approximately zero romantic feelings for him. So the notion that it could work out is pretty obvious to everyone, and especially to him, pretty much hopeless. And he really did handle it all pretty poorly and immaturely too, he objectified her and stalked her and simped up a storm and sabotaged her boyfriend, so perhaps he deserved what he got. Perhaps it’s better this way.

And yet.

And yet Wendy never really got a happy ending in the show. And Dipper never got a conclusive romance either. So after everything, it’s easy to think about it how he thinks about it, by wondering how things could have been, if everything were just so slightly different, if she’d said yes or if they united again. She wishes she could be younger, he wishes he could be older. She’s more dominant, he’s more recessive. She has a lot of serious issues in her life, and could really seriously use a driven, heroic, intelligent friend to help her out, give her purpose, and steer her right. And Lord knows he could use somebody with street smarts and actual muscles to have his back now and again. They complement each other perfectly. They make up for each others’ weaknesses. They’re everything they ever wanted from another, and if you do the math, their children would be actual literal supersoldiers.

Or at least that’s the way a lot of people see it. There’s been immeasurable mountains of fanfiction and fanart from people who are just so sad that in a show full of happy endings and dreams coming true and old regrets being resolved and children growing up, that one ending would never be happy, one dream would never come to pass, one regret would stick with you forever, one child would never grow up. Maybe if you extrapolate out the story they’d end up together? Or maybe they’d find other, better partners? Maybe romance isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, and this is the best ending there could have been? Perhaps, perhaps not. But in any case, there’s a lot of very rich storytelling potential for the untold journey before them, and for the paths that could have been.

Stop drawing fetish art of Wendy, you insufferable heathen actual donkeys.

3. Kataang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Now HERE’S a serious relationship. Not just a romantic ship, (though it is that,) not just some cutesy, funny thing or some ship-war fodder, (though it is cute and funny and did spawn a ship-war,) not just a matter of certainty and destiny, (though it is certain and was destined,) this is a real, TANGIBLE relationship, that these characters built together over a solid year of on-screen adventuring and fighting. They’ve helped each other through trauma, they’ve been there for each other in their darkest moments, they learned martial-arts together, they’ve fought back-to back against grown men, they’ve worked front-to-front sawing through steel girders, they’ve saved each other’s lives, he once ACTUALLY DIED and she brought him BACK. They end up respecting each other, and valuing each other in the intimate way that only true friends do.

And they’re shown working through all their imperfections and mistakes too. Aang sometimes oversteps boundaries and says stupid stuff because he’s a kid, and Katara sometimes scolds him and controls him because she’s motherly and orderly, they get jealous of each other, but none of those things drive them apart, and they deal with them, and they conquer them, and they keep a very legitimate and multi-faceted friendship going, and that’s the key to it all. The fact that this friendship becomes romance is just proof that it was a friendship of quality.

I think people tend to overlook or forget this ship because the last few episodes of the show found them in a pretty dark place, needing to deal with matters of life and death and justice in very different ways, and unlike all their other issues, we don’t really get to see them reconciling these differences before the story ends, which kind of leaves a sour taste between them. And Katara goes on a couple missions with Zuko around the same time, so now half of all people want Zutara, when in actuality, Zutara is a trash ship, which is a true science fact.

2. Serenity, Firefly

Only reason this ship isn’t #1 is because it isn’t constructed using a proper aerospace philosophy; it’s made of bulky machinery and steel beams and chunky plates, it looks more like an ocean vessel from the inside, and is WAY too big for its 6-12 person crew and light cargo capacity. Plus it doesn’t have any room for fuel and its got no wheels on its landing legs and no downward-facing windows and its reactor is just too dang SMOL and its engines are attached too flimsily. This all wouldn’t be too much of an issue if they were going for a far-future aesthetic, but if you’re trying to do something grounded and semi-contemporary, you need to lose some weight girl, I’m sorry.

But by gosh does it make up for it in heart. The entire inside of this ship was mapped out and made on set, with so many homely little decorations and touches to make every room feel like the person who inhabits it, sterile professional blue for the doc’s medbay, warm happy red for Kaylee’s engine room, all-serious-business-but-also-plastic-dinos for Wash’s cockpit... It hit me hard when this baby it crashed in the movie, and it felt almost real when River pretended to mind-meld with it. This ship has more soul in one buffer panel than most shows have in the entire cast, enough to make it seem like its own character, even in a show crowded with charming characters. I love this ship intimately, even if I would have built it differently.

1. Colonial Vessel 46.18′\, Gravity Falls

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

You didn’t think I’d leave out this one, did you? After all the fanfiction I’ve written? This is basically my ship at this point. Anyway, enough about me; the vessel beneath Crash Site Omega really is the quintessential alien ship; its perfectly cliche flying-saucer design taps into all the audience’s pre-existing fanciful notions and imaginings and disbelief-suspension, meanwhile its presentation isn’t cliche or fanciful in the slightest.

There’s not much to say about it from a technical standpoint, besides personal musings: it would need anti-gravity to stay airborne without thrusters, it would need a FTL drive to cross the distances it did, its drones would need to be made of some kind of semi-liquid to move like they do... But these sort of out-of-the-box, never-before-seen, world-expanding brain-knocks are exactly what makes this ship special. It’s an alien ship, built with technology unknown to people, forged from materials that people don’t possess, and inhabited by beings we will never meet. For all we know, this ship could be perfectly sound from an engineering standpoint, and no engineer in the audience could claim to prove it otherwise, because unlike something like the T.A.R.D.I.S., they never try and fail to explain it away with science buzzwords or canonize its details or show off some fancy glowy reactor. This ancient husk is left as a yawning pit in reason, and that’s beautiful.

Moreover, this ship is an amazingly powerful narrative tool, and a mind-blowing surprise to drop in as a setpiece during the show’s final episodes. This ship embodies everything that made the show’s mysteries special: the evidence presented so early and so consistently, the creativity in creature design, action, and worldbuilding, the yawning depths of unknowable lore, and most of all the burning, unquenched desire to know more... The imprint this ship made in the cliffs over the town has been hanging over the characters’ heads the entire series, and its hull was below their feet from day one, so when they finally revealed it, and explored it, it felt invigorating. Rewarding. This ship, and the glorious feelings and thoughts it represents, have inspired to no end, and haven’t ended yet.

Honorable mentions:

Westley and Buttercup, The Princess Bride

Ooooh man I tell you what, it was really hard trimming this down to 10 for the list, and this one just barely didn’t make the cut, and that mainly because I have a sweet spot for animation and for warrior women, and this sweetness ain’t animated, and this damsel is as distressed as they get. And they don’t have a whole lot of chemistry? I don’t know how to measure that, but I feel like there was a lot of friendship stated that was never shown? Is it sacrilege to say that about True Love? I guess I’ve never exactly had True Love, so what do I know?

The entire plot centers around his devotion to her, and her love for him, and the lengths they go to for one another. He studies fencing and wrestling and wits and tactics for years on a pirate ship as he tried to return to her, and she refused the advances and the offers of an actual prince for as long as she could, even though she thought him dead, and was ready to kill herself when she knew him to be alive and not to be hers. And just such excellent action and characters and humor and story in the entire book surrounding it. Possibly an even better movie, somehow. Happy happy happy happy. They don’t make movies like this no more, why is that? Sad.

Endurance, Interstellar

Actually a pretty realistic design, all considering. They nailed the aesthetic, and the cinematography, and the feel.

It does lose points though, firstly because the shuttlecraft require a booster stage to make it into orbit when leaving Earth, but for the rest of the movie, whenever they’re landing on planets with similar gravity and atmosphere, they can just fly away like it’s no big deal, which is a big inconsistency, both with real life, and more importantly with itself. And how did an under-equipped and struggling space program put this thing in orbit in the first place, anyway? And why don’t their ships land on their asses like proper rockets? And why not tell the crew members the full plan before leaving? See, it’s little things like that, little inconsistencies made for the sake of fitting with story beats and simplifying it for the audience’s sake, that sours this ship for me. I don’t mind creative liberties, but actual plot holes? This thing has a few plot holes, and plot holes are absolutely yucky. So although most of this ship is very yummy, the yucky parts make it all yucky.

Yucky.

Plus its heavy cargo shuttles are about the least-aerodynamic things imaginable, and that’s also yucky, and there’s porcelain tiles in the stasis bay, like what?

Couldashouldawoulda been yummy.

The Hermes, The Martian

This ship. This friggin’ ship.

A beautiful ship. A well-conceived ship. A mathematically sound and engineered ship. It had so many many good ideas behind it. So much math went into calculating its thrust and orbital dynamics for this movie, so much work went into making it fit a contemporary space aesthetic, the panels, the heat sinks, the tanks, so much PRESENTATION I could KISS IT HMWA, but taken as a whole, engineering-wise, the whole ship falls flat on its face, because it just doesn’t fit together. It doesn’t make sense. Look at all those countless modules along its length. What do they do? They don’t do anything! It’s a quarter mile long, and it’s built for only 6 people? It’s meant to carry a lander? Where does the lander dock? Why are the useful airlocks so far off the center of gravity? Why does it have a cockpit? Why is the forward airlock so looooong? Why is the entire ship so loooooong? Why is the ring spinning so slowly? It’s not hard math to figure out how fast it needs to spin! You’re telling me you did ORBITAL DYNAMICS but not the SINGLE physics 101 equation needed to figure out how fast the ring needs to spin??

Btw, let’s talk about that rotating section in the middle! Think about the rotating section! That rotating section means that the front and the back of the ship aren’t actually connected! There’s just a pair of ring-shaped slip-slidey bearings bridging the ship’s middle, slip-slidey bearings that electricity, computer signals, and water and air pipes can’t cross. Why did they design it that way?? In the book the entire ship spun, which makes so much more sense! Why does it have solar panels when it has a reactor canonically capable of 40 times their output? Why are the fuel tanks so small? Why is it always facing prograde even when canonically burning retrograde? Why? WHY? BLRRRRGGGGGRGGGRGGG

In Conclusion, Ships Are Neat

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