#part of the reason why characters with big/hooked noses are my babies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justanisabelakinnie · 3 years ago

Text

Why I Love Isabela

It’s no secret that Isabela Madrigal is my favorite character in Encanto. I mean, duh, it’s why I made this blog.

But the question is “Why? Why is Isabela your favorite character?” And I am here to explain why. If you follow this blog, then obviously you’re also an Isabela simp and probably have your own reasons for liking this character that probably coincide with mine. But here I am explaining my reasons.

Frankly, it’s because I see myself in her, in more ways than one.

I too am the oldest daughter of my family, and being the oldest daughter means you have certain expectations to uphold. You’re expected to set an example, to do as you’re told, to be the shining pillar your parents expect you to be. You’re the one with all the responsibility on your shoulders. You’re the one going out into the world first, the one your younger sisters are supposed to look up to. But you can’t live up to expectations all the time, it’s not fun to be placed on a pedestal, and eventually, that nut is going to crack. You long to act out, to be free, to have even a portion of the freedom that the baby of the family does. But you know your parents are always there, watching your every move, making sure that you are perfect. And the price to pay for not being perfect is devastating, too horrifying to even think about. And the worst part is that you’ll never live up to those expectations, you’ll never be perfect enough, you’ll never get the approval your parents forced you to think you’d seek. But you’ll also never be as free and wild as your younger sister.

So being stuck in that place, what do you do? Well, you overcompensate, try too hard to seek your parents’ approval, the approval you know you’re never going to get, but at least let them see that you’re trying, as much as it will never be enough. “What Else Can I Do?” resonated so deeply with me for this reason. No matter what language it is in, its message rings through and sends shivers down my spine. Because it’s all about realizing that you don’t have to be this perfect porcelain figure on a pedestal, you don’t have to be tight and contained and restrict yourself to one mold chosen for you by someone else. You don’t have to seek anyone’s approval or let anybody else run your life and make you feel guilty for something they put in your head. You can simply be. Be yourself. Be free and out there. There is so much more to you than what’s beyond the surface, so many more possibilities to what you can accomplish. It’s about breaking free from other people’s expectations of you, how the same way you see your sister as free, you can be, too. “What Else Can I Do?” is about freedom. About being emotionally repressed and denying your own truth to yourself, but eventually being liberated and fully embracing who you are, in all of its messiness, warts, and confusion. A person, not a shiny trophy or a pretty doll.

Secondly, representation matters. I’m not the first to point this out, of course, but the fact that they made the darkest-skinned of the female characters the most beautiful and feminine is so meaningful to me. I’m not an indigenous woman. I am Black. But even so, it made me so happy to see someone who is darker-skinned like me and has a similar complexion to mine be the image of graceful femininity. I’m a very girly girl, but the archetypical beauty and feminine norm has, for the longest time, been pale skin with blue eyes and long blonde hair. Something Isabela is the polar opposite of. And it’s never commented on or used as a source of irony either. She’s not beautiful in SPITE of her dark skin and hooked nose. She simply is, and her features accentuate that. Even better, she’s not used as a source of comedy for her looks, either. Colorism is a big deal in Latin-America, and in every country all over the world, sadly, so for them to do this took major ovaries. Her existence means a lot to me in this regard.

Thirdly is how her character reclaims femininity. Despite not wanting to be in the mold of a pink flower princess who is elegant and graceful, she doesn’t discard femininity as a constraint or a bad thing. And that is so, so powerful. Too many times, femininity is treated as a cage to break off, a cumbersome article of clothing to endure wearing until you rip it off in order to find your true self. Only by rejecting that which is commonly associated with womanhood can women be free. Now how ironic, misogynistic, and hypocritical is that? But Isabela shows that femininity was never the problem. Her having to conform to a particular mold that Abuela set for her is. Femininity is powerful and expressive. It’s not a prison to be locked in. And Isabela discovers that as she learns to express her femininity how she likes, by wearing a vibrant dress with a wide array of colors as she grows beautiful and towering plants that aren’t just flowers. There are more than one mode of femininity and they are all equally valid parts of the spectrum. “What Else Can I Do?” once again, shows this. Some of the plants she mentions growing are even flowering plants! She always had the power in her all along, she just never got the means to express herself up until that moment in time! Her character sends the message of coming to terms with her own femininity, in her own way, and discovering what it really means. She can be beautiful and strong and a firecracker who’s a force to be reckoned with, she doesn’t need a man but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still want to marry a woman eventually, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Seeing her break free while also staying true to her femininity shows how the film goes out of its way to subvert the demonization of it. Certainly a feminist feat. If only more of the fandom could understand this.

And fourthly and lastly, her power. Flower power! The ability to grow flowers and other plants is such a beautiful and strong gift, and is much more useful than it seems. I have always been drawn to flowers and nature as a child and still am, if I had a superpower I think it would be the same power that Isabela had, or at least something similar. Her character and song also inspired a character of mine’s superpower, by the way, just wanted to throw that out there. And as you all know, I have always been drawn more to female characters, especially ones that are boldly feminine and unashamed of it! I like all female characters but I’ve always had a soft spot for the more girly ones since they’re more like me(especially when they’re Black and/or woc and Isabela fits that bill, too!), and her wardrobe and fashion color palette at the beginning of the movie is basically me and how I dress(I even have a flower crown!). I’d love to cosplay as her someday, in both dresses! And that concept art? *chef’s kiss*

So there you go, my reasons for why I love Isabela! This was quite expansive and really hard to put into words, haha, but it has always been there, so I am more than happy to share it with you! If you have anything you’d like to add onto this, want to share your own reasons, or simply agree with this post, then please reblog! I want to hear your thoughts too!

Thank you for coming to my Isabela TedTalk lol.

92 notes · View notes

dumbikawa · 4 years ago

Text

Taking Care of the HQ Boys

GN!Reader | Fluff | Warnings: None

Characters: Suna, Kuroo, Iwaizumi

A/n: I’m such a simp for these boys it’s insane

SUNA

It took Suna a while to get used to the way you never held back when it came to taking care of him. One night, after a particularly rough practice, he’d sluggishly entered the apartment and practically collapsed on top of where you were laying on the couch. Wordlessly, you positioned yourself so that he was resting on your lap with both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was comfortably silent as you ran your fingers through his hair that was still slightly damp from showering at the gym and in no time at all he was softly snoring.

He'd never admit it aloud, but he loved when you took care of him in little ways like that. From the start, he had always insisted on being the big spoon, obsessed with the way your body perfectly molded against his and the satisfaction of knowing you felt safe in his arms. Ever since that night, though, it became a regular thing for you to see him standing, looking at you like a pouty child, from the corner of your eye waiting for you to take the hint that he wanted you to cuddle him. You'd simply open your arms for him to crawl into without even having to look up from your phone.

Today was no exception.

Suna can feel the physical exhaustion down to his bones as he allows the cool water to wash away the sweat and grime he collected over the course of practice. Mentally he feels the same; completely drained in every sense of the word. He can’t even find the energy to thoroughly dry his hair, opting to quickly rub it with a towel before making his way to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed.

“Rin!” you gently scold, placing the book you’d been reading beside you on the bed. “You’re going to ruin your pillow.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles, eyes remaining shut as he lets out a content sigh. He did care, actually, but his decision was already made and now that he was in bed there was no way he was getting up. He truly meant that, but when he feels you tugging at his hand for him to get up he begrudgingly obliges.

You’re holding your hair dryer and gesturing for him to sit on the floor. It doesn’t seem wise to disobey when you look so determined, so he slides off the bed, giving you full access to his sopping mess of hair.

His eyes flutter closed as the warmth from the hairdryer and the way your fingers are skillfully brushing through his hair begins to pull him towards sleep. Not to mention, in this position he has the perfect opportunity to use your thigh as a pillow and he makes a mental note to have you dry his hair more often. But, sadly, the flow of warm air shuts off and your voice pulls him back to the present.

“C’mon you big baby,” you laugh, watching him groan and throw himself back up on the bed. He shimmies under the covers, but refuses to place his head back on the damp pillow. Instead, he stares at you with sleepy eyes until you’ve positioned yourself so that you can sit comfortably and open your arms for him.

His arms automatically snake around your waist as he buries his head in your side.

“Do I do enough to take care of you?” he asks softly, turning to look up at you with a vulnerability that he doesn't often display so openly.

“Of course, Rin,” you hum, tracing your fingers down his exposed back. He still seems unsure as he pushes his face against your shirt, but his shoulders relax slightly. “I mean it. I like taking care of you, okay? There’s nothing to repay if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Your reassurance falls on deaf ears, though, as you feel his breathing even out and his grip on you loosening.

“I love you, baby,” you whisper, grabbing your book from where you’d set it earlier and relishing in the quiet as you continued to absentmindedly draw designs against Suna's warm skin.

KUROO

Kuroo closes the apartment door quietly, finally letting his shoulders droop with exhaustion now that he's inside. He slips his bag noiselessly onto the ground and flicks his watch up to check the time. It was well past midnight by the time he actually clocked out of work and, although he wants nothing more than a dual welcome home/goodnight kiss from you, he hopes you’re sound asleep by now.

However, much to his surprise, you’re curled up on the couch with a book and a warm cup of tea, so enthralled in whatever you’re reading that you don't hear him approach. There’s a strong possibility you aren’t even aware of what time it is, completely lost in another world. He tests this theory by walking behind the couch and wrapping his arms around you, chuckling at the way you jump at the sudden contact.

“Welcome home!” you beam once you recover from the small scare. You press a quick kiss to his upturned lips before he walks around to the front so that he can relieve a proper hug.

“Thank you, babe,” he murmurs against your lips, not wanting to pull away from your warmth just yet. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I wanted to wait for you and then I got to this really good part in my book and just...lost track of what time it was.” The way your eyes light up sends a wave of admiration shooting straight through Kuroo’s heart. “How was work? Why did you have to stay so late?”

Kuroo begins walking you through his hectic day, quickly turning the discussion into an irritated rant about having to fix other people’s mistakes and figuring out schedules for upcoming projects. You listen thoughtfully as you migrate towards the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing closely behind.

Soon, there was a cup of hot tea in his hands and the two of you are positioned on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap as he gently massages your calves.

Your eyes never leave his as he talks, nodding along and asking questions every now and then. He didn’t need nor want any sort of advice or words of wisdom. Simply having you listen to him was enough to have him feeling ten times lighter by the time he reached the bottom of his cup.

“Do you want more?” you ask, beginning to stand up. Kuroo doesn’t answer, instead leaning forward and hooking his arm around your waist so that you fall back into his arms.

“More of you, yes,” he says, smiling into your hair. He can practically feel the way your eyes roll as you let out an exasperated groan at his cheesy comment, but the hint of a blush making its way to your cheeks betrays you.

You make the first move to get up, offering a hand out to him. His hand engulfs yours as you pull him towards the bedroom. The bed has new sheets and the laundry is sitting in a basket freshly washed and ready to be folded. A wave of guilt crashes into him, knowing that you also worked today and must’ve come home afterwards and cleaned up.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten some rest,” Kuroo sighs, gesturing to the laundry and neatly made bed. "I'm certain it was my turn to do the laundry.”

“Yeah, but when you told me you had to work late I figured I’d knock out some chores since I had the time. It’s not like it’s a big deal, Tetsu.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” The words have barely left his lips before he's throwing the covers over the two of you and shutting off the lights. His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you close to him, relishing in your small giggles. It doesn't take long for you to drift to sleep while Kuroo places soft kisses against your exposed shoulders. He soon follows, matching his breathing with yours and immediately winding down, but until his brain finally shuts off from exhaustion he's thinking of all the ways he's going to show you just how much he appreciates everything you do.

IWAIZUMI

Iwaizumi watches as you begin cooking dinner for the two of you as a quiet pop song plays off your phone. His work day was less than stellar, to put it simply, but watching you dance around the kitchen has already earned the frown from his face and has him smiling like a damn fool.

“Haji!” you exclaim, suddenly noticing the lurking figure from the corner of your eye. He steps out from his hiding place, an amused yet sheepish look on his face as he notices your flustered expression. “Why were you just standing there? Come here and give me a kiss, idiot.” He raises his hands in surrender as he does what you say, letting his lips linger on yours for a moment longer than usual and wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer to him.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs against your skin, resting his face into the crook of your neck. You pull back slightly, ignoring his childlike protests as you do so.

“Are you okay?” you question, eyeing him up and down. Iwaizumi is sure he could get lost in your beautiful eyes that are currently filled with concern. You know him too well, he thinks, as you give him a knowing look. It was still difficult for him to open up about things, especially small things that had bothered him throughout the day. There wasn't a real reason to talk about all the irritating parts of the day because he knows he can handle them himself, or so he claims.

“Y/n, it’s nothing,” he reassures, kissing your nose in an attempt to further prove he’s not bothered. “It was just a very long day, but now I’m back here with you and I couldn’t be happier.” His smooth talking makes it impossible for you to stay mad, but you surely try.

“Alright, well, you know you can talk about it even if it’s ‘nothing.’ In the meantime, stay here and watch the food for a moment while I run you a bath.” Iwaizumi is quick to object, but you’ve already sauntered out of the room and he can hear the faint sound of running water.

It truly did feel nice to be taken care of, he thinks fleetingly as he sinks into the warm water, but it's difficult for him to fully relax when he can hear you bustling around the kitchen. He waits in the bath for a little longer so that you won't bite his head off for how quick he was before changing into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt. The sounds of you beginning to set the table echoes down the hallway and he finds himself hoping you'll at least let him help with that.

“You lasted longer in there than I thought," you tease as your boyfriend appears back at your side. "Now go sit down." He opens his mouth to argue, but one look and he finds himself moving towards the table, wondering why you were so intent on doing everything.

“At least let me do the dishes,” he practically pleads, watching you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude as you bring the warm food over to the table.

“Or, hear me out, we leave the dishes to deal with tomorrow and spend the rest of the night watching movies cuddled up on the couch." He narrows his eyes as he searches through his brain, trying to remember if he'd forgotten an anniversary or birthday because he surely didn't feel as if he deserved this.

As if reading his mind once again you reach out and hold his hand, gently rubbing your thumb in circles against his skin.

"Can't you just let me take care of you? You're constantly going above and beyond for me, so I just thought I'd try and return the favor." Iwaizumi feels his face heat up as you place a kiss against his knuckles like he always does to you. It did feel nice, but he enjoys taking care of you. He never even thinks twice about it.��

"Alright, alright. In that case, you can do the dishes tonight and maybe also get some desert." He can feel your eyes boring into him as if to say, 'Don't push it.' A smile breaks out on his face as he begins digging into the meal you prepared, peppering you with compliments until his plate is clean.

315 notes · View notes

holykillercake · 4 years ago

Text

Tap Dancer Fish

word count: 1.5k

summary: Zoro´s haramaki is falling apart and he can´t find another one to buy. You decide to crochet him one before he kills someone.

highlight: ¨You must be tired... stupid marimo.¨

notes: This was an anon request for a fluff where they have a s/o that made them a thing with crochet and how they would react. This is 1/3 of the request, we´re starting with Zoro <3

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Any luck?¨ you asked without taking your eyes from the city guide, even with the rowdy sound of the metal chair scratching the brick sidewalk.

¨No.¨

¨Need any help?¨ you tried to hide your smirk by sipping your coffee.

¨No.¨

¨Well,¨ you closed the map and placed it on the table ¨I still have some errands to run. I´ll take a look around, see if I can find it. ¨

¨Thank you.¨

You placed a hand on his chest and gave him a quick peck on the lips before making your way back to your tasks.

The Strawhats had docked on a Spring Island called Gardenia. It reminded you of Dressrosa, but without the talking toys and mad king. The houses and stores were all painted a shade of green or brown, but what made it extraordinary to the eyes - and nose - was the number of flowers. All kinds of all sizes and colors decorating everything around you.

However, while you felt like an enchanted character from a fairy tale, your boyfriend felt trapped in a nightmare. For starters, everything smelled like flowers; Sanji would not stop bumping into him, saying that he mistook him for a moss tree, and the flowers made every corner look the same, so he got lost all the time.

But what was really making him grumpier than usual was his haramaki, the green garment he wore religiously around his belly - well, not religiously.

He has been procrastinating to get a new one for a long time, and despite you offering to purchase it whenever you ran errands, he would always turn the offer down. The problem was that it was not keeping itself anymore. After all the battles he fought and opponents he defeated, his haramaki was falling into pieces.

In the beginning, you were able to patch it up with some simple sewing, but now he needed to get a new one. And here´s where problem number two arises, you have entered a chain of summer and spring islands where they don´t usually sell this stuff. As a result, Zoro was mad at everyone - you were an exception, though.

It pained you to see him bothered like this, despite all of your previous warnings. Everyone has their own thing, Luffy has the straw hat, Chopper always carries his blue backpack, Sanji never stops smoking, and Zoro wears his haramaki. Anyone would be bothered, although anyone would listen to your advice.

So you came up with a plan. Since you could not find one to buy, you were going to crochet one. That was an interesting fact that no one knew so far, your ability of crocheting. You would do it whenever you were in charge of the night watch, and when you presented someone with a piece of clothing that matched their personality or traits, you would say you found it in town. Reason being that you didn´t want to be swamped with sweaters and beanies to do. You knew the crew would go crazy if they didn´t have to pay for winter clothes anymore.

¨Yosh, now I just have to make it.¨ you looked at the green ball of yarn in your hands before hiding it at the bottom of your bags.

¨Oi, Luffy! Don´t steal her food!¨

¨But she´s not even eating it, Sanji!¨

¨Y/N, are you ok?¨

¨Y/N?¨

¨Y/N!¨ you almost fell off the chair when you woke up from your zombie state.

¨What?¨

¨You look tired. Are you getting sick?¨ Robin asked, placing a hand on your forehead. ¨I hope you didn´t get some deadly poison from a plant.¨

¨Oi, Robin! Don´t say these scary things!¨ Usopp cried and walked away from you.

¨I couldn´t sleep last night.¨ the girls stared at you with a malicious smirk, and Sanji stormed out on flames ¨Yeah, uhum, I wish! I couldn´t sleep because Zoro kept rolling on the bed, it felt like I was sharing a bed with a tap dancer fish!¨ you shouted grumpily.

The longer he stayed without a decent haramaki, the more jittery he got. So throughout the night, he rolled on the bed, got up to train, went back to bed because he was too frustrated to train, mumbled and grumbled, and made you go through his insanity with him. At some point, you were planning on throwing him off the ship or choke him with that stupid belly warmer.

After you finished your third cup of coffee, you decided to head to the deck. Your green-haired tap dancer fish was napping on the grass with furrowed brows and arms crossed. Suddenly, the irritation you felt was gone.

¨You must be tired... stupid marimo.¨ you whispered and made your way to your room.

He never bothered you before. Even when the other guys made him go crazy, he would always lay down, hold you close to his body, and sleep. On the days you were not so tired, pillow talks would last hours and hours, and he would tell you things he hasn´t told anyone; he would show interest in the stupid things you like and be the Zoro the other guys would never get to know.

So you fought your will to go to sleep and grabbed the wool and a hook, determined to put an end to both of your miseries as soon as possible.

With Zoro napping all day, Robin in charge of the ship, and the rest of the guys exploring the Island, you would have all the peace in the world to work.

And that was exactly what you did. You were definitely going to hear from Chopper for going the entire day without a sip of water or bathroom break. Your fingers were red and hurting, and your shoulders were stiff and sore. But it was worth it.

It was almost dark when you finished, part of you wanted to wrap it with laces or some sort of crap, but you passed out as soon as you heard the snap of the scissor cutting the yarn. You didn´t even know you had passed out until you woke up the next day, sunlight hitting your eyes.

You were alone in bed, but not the way you imagined. You expected cramps and spasms to take over your body, but all you got was a slight soreness. You were in your pajamas and tucked like a baby.

¨What the-¨ you sat and searched over the blanket looking for the crochet garment, but found no sign of it ¨Did I dream about that?¨

You threw yourself off the bed and marched - more like crawled - to the kitchen, craving for coffee.

¨Morning, Y/N!¨ everyone was already up, although Luffy was sleep eating again.

¨Morning, guys.¨ your voice came out sleepy. You grabbed a cup of coffee and sat beside Zoro ¨Good morning, you.¨ You smiled.

¨Morning, sleepyhead.¨ He kissed your temple.

¨I´m so happy you found it, Y/N. I don´t think we would be able to handle his mood anymore.¨ Nami said relieved, and Zoro yelled something when everyone agreed. You gave her a confused look, and she pointed at your boyfriend.

Your eyes scanned him, oblivious for a moment, but when you noticed him wearing the haramaki you made, a big smile grew on your face. That also explains why you slept comfortably in your pajamas, he must have gone to check on you and saw your pitiful state alongside his present.

¨Yeah, I was lucky, I guess.¨ He held your hand tighter under the table.

After breakfast, the two of you decided to stay on deck, enjoying the gentle sun and the fresh breeze before it was time to set sail again. You were sitting between his legs, against his chest, and his hands rested on your lap while you played with each other´s fingers.

¨Thank you... for making it for me.¨ You forgot about sore muscles. You forgot about raw fingers. Listen to him sounding so relaxed and peaceful made you forget about everything.

¨Thanks for not telling the guys I made it. Besides that, how are you going to protect my ass if you can´t focus without this stupid belly wrap?¨ he let out a lazy laugh, and you felt his body vibrating against yours.

¨Well, thank you again. I really liked it, and I won´t ruin it.¨

¨I know.¨ you whispered, closing your eyes and seizing the moment.

You knew he would eventually destroy it, but that was fine. You didn´t have the emotional connection to it like he had. What mattered to you was his well-being. You were not strong enough to protect him - not that he needed - so keeping him warm and loved was your internal mission. Because that´s how he made you feel.

362 notes · View notes

severusish · 3 years ago

Text

Please normalize, romanticize, compliment, and draw more hooked noses.

If you have a hooked nose, I am here to tell you: Unless it is affecting your health, keep it and be proud of it and love yourself. You look amazing.

(t/w: mentions of op*eration, s*urgery).

I have a hooked nose.

My grandfather got his operated ages ago because — according to him — it was to help with his breathing (i.e. deviated septum). Except that his nose today, at 87 years old, is perfectly straight. In his younger photos it was hooked like mine, but for as long as I’ve known him, he’s had a straight nose.

Some years ago I got my nose broken (twice). The first time I had it broken was in a traveling sports’ tournament to Vienna and it involved a baseball (long story), and the second time because of a mishap with a broom prop backstage during a theatrical parody performance of Wicked (again, long story).

I had to have my nose operated in order to breathe properly again because the right side of my nose had been squished entirely flat, and the bridge had been fractured. And I told the surgeons at the time, “Please don’t change my profile. Fix the inside so I can breathe, but don’t change my profile.”

At the time, my reason for that choice was two-fold. Firstly, my father (who paid for the surgery at the time, and he ended up being paid back in full by our insurance for it due to the fact that I had had a sports’ accident) told me that our insurance wouldn’t cover any surgeries that were considered “cosmetic” or for “aesthetic” purposes. Which meant that if I asked them to change my nose, it might incur extra costs. At the time my father also told me that he didn’t mind if I did want to change my nose and that he’d pay the difference if I wanted to change how it looked.

The problem is that my nose is also my father’s nose. And I care about not erasing that.

So I told the doctors to leave it alone.

I found out a year afterward that my father had made an error while reading the fine print of the insurance, and that aesthetic surgery was covered. He said that the next time I went in, I could have that done if I wanted to.

I told him adamantly, “No. I like it the way it is.”

A few years later the surgery had caused unusual cartilage placement in the bridge of my nose that was causing me pain and migraines. I was asked to come back in for a corrective surgery. (I have postponed the surgery enough times that I’ve lost count; it’s theoretically scheduled for this year, but I keep avoiding it because I’ve decided that I really don’t like surgeries).

One day a few months ago my grandfather said “When you go to your operation, you should get that straightened out, take the bump out, like I did.”

And I just told him “I don’t think I will, but thank you for suggesting some ideas.”

Because as of now, my nose is still recognizably my grandfather’s original nose. It’s still my father’s nose. And my mother’s nose is hooked too.

This is a photo of an ancestor on my paternal family’s side. His name is Sir Leonard Holliday and he is my 14th-19th great grandfather (Edit: I’ve lost count of how many great’s he is. He’s not a close ancestor). He looks exactly like my grandfather did when he was in his 50s. Same eyes, same ear, same mouth, same beard, same profile. Same hair color. It is spooky and uncanny.

Why would I erase generations of how my family looks just to conform to “conventional beauty”? I don’t want a copy-paste nose. I want my own nose. I’m never changing it. Never.

[Edit: and yes it is tempting to change how you look when social media throws it in your face that you don’t match the blueprint. But trust me; with a little conviction, you can do anything. And saying “No” to someone else’s nose (what I call a cookie-cutter nose) is one of those things I personally decided to do. I understand the struggle only too well. That being said, everyone’s different, and I fully support and sympathize with the people who decide that changing their nose is right for them. No judgement, respect and kindness only. What I’m saying is that we should start saying that all noses are beautiful and worth drawing, exactly what OP said basically.] :)

The way I look now, I honestly look like if Lily Evans and Severus Snape had had a baby. I’ve got auburn hair and a hooked, twice broken nose and you can fight me.

Though preferably not with a baseball or a broom.

Thank you.

- S.

alright im gonna say it :/ big and defined noses are extremely fucking good and can easily center facial shape and add interest to a face the way a button nose cannot. and if you do not agree you are firstly my enemy and secondly a coward

#severusish says #my nose #hooked noses for the win #draw hooked noses.#my thoughts #my family history #text post #hooked noses #hooked profile #crooked noses #crooked profile #UNCONVENTIONAL NOSES #FOR THE WIN #part of the reason why characters with big/hooked noses are my babies #big and defined noses #thank you

159K notes · View notes

krappykawa · 4 years ago

Note

I read your s/o who likes to read hcs and was wondering if you could do the same request format or whatever it is you'd call it but with terishima,akaashi, iwa, Oikawa,and Daichi? Sorry if that's a lot! -anon

with a s/o that likes to read (part 2)

— iwaizumi, oikawa, terushima, daichi, and akaashi

word count. 1.4k

genre. fluff

note. i made these ones shorter than the ones in part two because anon requested a lot of characters and i didn’t wanna run out of headcanons to write,,, i hope you still like this though!

part one here

IWAIZUMI.

- will read the books that you’re reading just because he likes the feeling of being able to bond with you over something you love since you’re so supportive of him already (literally the perfect man. perfect bf. give me a kiss rn RN!!)

- maybe not all of them, but if you get him hooked on the description, then he will probably finish the book faster than you

- if he doesn’t like a book very much he’ll take ages to finish it though

- if you ask him about how he’s doing with reading it he’ll be like “oh i’m almost done” when in reality he’s only 20 pages in

- he’ll send you texts about the books you recommend but they’ll be super blunt like “this character just died” or “oh they kissed”

- you sit at your phone for 20 minutes debating on how to respond to those because HOW??

- he loves cuddles,,,, would literally die for cuddles

- so when you climb into his lap with a book in hand and bury your head in his neck as you read his heart literally malfunctions

- his cute s/o with their reading obsession that he secretly finds so endearing climbing into his lap for cuddle time,,,,,, his heart goes &2:$84!;💞💖💘💖💓💖💞/):&38,

- iwaizumi.exe has stopped working

- but he’s also not afraid to pull you into his lap if he sees you reading on the couch

- he’ll probably put on a monster movie and just hold you as you read and he watches

- probably also buried his nose in your hair and revels in your scent (also kisses your head every so often because he can’t help it and AHHHH HES SO CUTE)

- when you start sending him messages about your books, he will attempt to respond to every single text or he will just wait until you’re done and text back with “u done?” (not in a mean way though) there’s no inbetween

- he’s smiling every time you send him those texts though

- aoba johsai’s volleyball team (ESPECIALLY OIKAWA) teases him mercilessly if they ever catch him smiling at his phone in the locker room or during class or during lunch (basically u text him a lot lol)

- sometimes when you slam your book shut and scream into your pillow, he will just watch you with amused eyes and probably make an offhand comment that’s similar to “remember to breathe while you’re at it.”

- you end up throwing the pillow at him (which he catches and then proceeds to walk to where you are and swing you over his shoulder)

- get your mind out of the gutter on the “over his shoulder” part i swear he’s just teasing you for throwing a pillow at him (I CAN FEEL YOUR MIND WANDERING STOP IT)

OIKAWA.

- he makes an effort to read your books, really he does

- he’s just really busy, so most of the books he promises he will read stay only half way read through and never picked up ever again

- if you give him a sci-fi book though, this man will literally finish it at an insane pace

- literally he would be the one to text you at some ungodly hour (usually 3AM in the morning) because he just finished the book in one sitting and he’s literally brimming with reactions

- will text things like “WHAT THE FUCK HE JUST DIED��, “YN SEND HELP I THINK THEY’RE ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING STUPID”, “OH MY GODDDD I HATE THIS BITCH CAN THEY STOP TALKING” (always in all caps whenever he’s reacting to a book)

- you better pray that he doesn’t end up hating a character because he will text you every single time they show up on a page and complain about them

- “this character reminds me of ushijima why would you put me through this 🤕🤕”

- or “THEYRE TALKING AGAIN?? WHEN WILL THEY GET THE MEMO THAT I WANT THEM TO . ST F U ‼️😻”

- anyways, if it’s not sci-fi, it’s probably sitting on his nightstand and never touched again until you steal the book back

- CLAIMS he tried reading them (he got 2 pages in and then put it down)

- he is also a huge cuddler

- but you will not be able to read in his lap because he’s so fucking whiny

- “y/n-channn pay attention to meeee. you can read about that insanely hot dude in your book when you’re not already sitting in an insanely hot dude’s lap”

- big pouty face

- it works every single time and you hate him for it

- once you put your book down he will not let you go for a good ten minutes

- he also has tons of pictures of you reading on his phone because he thinks you’re so cute and feels like he has to snap a picture so he can remember how cute you looked at that very moment

- a lot like iwaizumi, oikawa will attempt to reply to every single one of your book related texts (except oikawa succeeds at replying to every single one)

- like you could literally send him fifty text messages in a row and you will get fifty replies back

TERUSHIMA.

- i am so sorry to say this but i genuinely cannot see terushima being interested in your books whatsoever

- he thinks that it’s boring and always questions how you can just sit down for hours on end and just read

- this changes when you give him one of those insane, mind-boggling, really dark, murder-mystery books

- he’ll scoff at it but after a lot of begging on your part, he’ll give it a try

- he loves it

- he told you that he never got bored and that feeling like that while reading a book is so weird to him

- that is the only book you’ll ever get him to read though (okay maybe he’ll read a few more if you beg him for it with that cute pouty face of yours that he cannot resist)

- like he’ll treat that murder mystery book as a holy grail and insist that nothing will ever top it

- i’m sorry again but he probably texts you “what u doing rn?” and if you say something about reading he’ll try to get you to do literally anything else (most likely will send a horny text to try and steal you away from your reading, let’s be honest here)

- “come over baby you can experience all that you’re reading in that book first hand 😏😏😏”

- if you send him text reactions of your book he will most likely reply with “awe babe ur so cute” but not say anything about the books in itself (IM SORRY HE’S NOT MEAN ABOUT IT THOUGH)

- cuddling with him while reading will never happen

- seriously

- he will do everything in his power to get you to put the book down

- like start peppering you with kisses or tickling you

- he just can’t stand sitting down in silence for so long lol

- he doesn’t put you down for reading though

- like yeah he might not understand it and thinks it’s boring, but he admires that you care so much about it and also admires your commitment

DAICHI.

- admires you for reading honestly

- like i feel like he’s the type to get really good grades but will not look at a book that he hasn’t been assigned to read for his life

- that being said, he probably has never read any of the books you ask him to read with you

- he’s told you he’s read one or two which is a lie (you know it’s a lie but you don’t tell him that because you know he feels bad about not reading them)

- he isn’t on his phone often so most of the time your texts don’t get answered for hours

- it’s kinda fun that way though because after a while you just start sending him long text threads and it’s like talking to yourself

- when he does respond it’s with something like “you look like you had fun there” (after that he’ll apologize for not seeing it and then ask if you had anything else about the book that you wanted to tell him about AWEHISHFNF)

- very good listener!! he’ll try and have a genuine conversation about the book even if he hasn’t read it (like if you want to talk about how you think the plot doesn’t work, he will either support you or give you valid reasons that sparks constructive conversation)

- will absolutely never see the texts you send at 1AM (until the morning) because he always passes out before 11PM

- will see them in the morning and will text back “well good morning to me”

- he has absolutely no clue what you’re talking about in the texts but tries his hardest to be supportive

- cuddling while you’re reading happens nearly every single time you’re together

- is very stressed from dealing with his volleyball children so he’ll more than happily sit on the couch and cuddle with you as you read

- sometimes he falls asleep while you cuddle and you just snuggle into him and it’s so cute

AKAASHI.

- THIS LITTLE SHIT

- man oh man he loves acting like a smart ass whenever you text him about your books

- you’ll be like “my favorite character just died!!” and he’ll be like “well tell them to not die then wtf”

- will stay up late texting you about your book though because he’s most likely reading it with you so you two can bounce ideas off of each other

- if you like a character that he hates he will not hesitate to start a debate about why you shouldn’t like that character (full one page of reasons. this man takes his opinions very seriously)

- if you’re together at his house or something and you start yelling at your book he’ll be like “y/n don’t hurt its feelings.”

- you momentarily pause your yelling to deadpan him

- he stares right back

- “just be nice.” (you’re like BWAH???)

- HE ALSO YELLS AT HIS BOOKS THOUGH

- it’s uncommon but it does happen

- if you’re both reading or you’re doing homework and he’s reading, he’ll slam the book shut and yell about how stupid this character is (and when i mean yell, i mean yell)

- and if he doesn’t like the ending of something he will rant for days and you’ll have to remind him to take a breath

- he gets so hyped up from reading books it’s so cute

- will read with you when you cuddle read (does that make sense??? like when you cuddle with him while reading)

- will mumble things under his breath while you’re both reading but you’re on his lap so you can hear everything and you just laugh

- one time he mumbled “stupid bitch just fucking die already” to this character he hated

- you had to put down the book because you were laughing so hard

#oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #terushima x reader #terushima headcanons #daichi x reader #daichi headcanons #akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons

583 notes · View notes

stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 4 years ago

Text

As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 9 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8)

****TW: Please beware that this chapter mentions miscarriages and may be triggering.

Emily - March 1944

The world seemed to narrow in around them. The black sky felt heavy, draping them in a blanket of privacy where all time seemed to stop. Nixon looked frozen staring at her.

“What?” Nixon sounded gobsmacked.

She could only imagine what she looked like standing there in front of him. Her hair was down - he rarely saw it down since she was always in uniform. The icy breeze blew wild strands of auburn across her rosy nose and cheeks. Emily had rushed out of the hospital and had spent the entire train ride back crying and doing her best to make sense of her emotions. She hadn’t thought once about checking her compact to fix her complexion or hair as her body brought her back to the base that had become her home.

All that ran through her mind was the vision of John’s hospital bed and the woman who sat beside him. As soon as she had seen that woman turn, her profile punctuated by her bulging stomach, it dawned on Emily that nothing but opportunity lay before her. She was no longer tied to this man. Everything Emily had ever wanted began with her returning to the airborne division of the United States army, so she immediately did just that.

“I’m free,” she repeated. She smiled up at him as tears filled her eyes, giving her a manic look.

“What do you mean? Why aren’t you in Worcestershire?” Emily shook her head as if in awe and Nixon wondered if she had gone mad.

“When I got there he had another woman at his bedside.” A tear ran down her cheek. Nixon stepped forward with an outstretched hand as if to comfort her. Emily quickly wiped the tear away, “no I’m okay, it’s okay.” Nixon stopped just in front of her. His eyebrows wove together in confusion and Emily knew she had to go on, “John was involved with another woman,” Emily swallowed as she felt her face grow red. She couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed that she had been usurped by another woman. “They met in Liverpool when he first docked over two years ago, before Italy. Almost immediately after he left the states actually,” Emily laughed a bitter laugh. “And she’s pregnant, with their second child.”

Nixon let out a low whistle. This caused Emily to burst into a fit of giggles. She didn’t know why- she wasn’t sure why she was responding this way at all. The entire train ride back to Aldbourne her mind had gone in circles trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the short morning she had spent at the convalescent hospital. The plan she had when she first arrived in England was completely shot to dust. What would her parents think? What would they say? Who cares what they had to say, Emily reminded herself. That was her new mantra. The end of her relationship hadn’t been her doing, she had done everything right. If anyone was at fault now it was John. Now free from guilt, Emily was free to make her future anything she wanted it to be.

Nixon was looking at her as if she was crazy when she finally recovered herself. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” She pressed two fingers against her temple and exhaled.

“Are you?” Nixon’s eyes were wide with bewilderment, “Emily that is.. that is fucked up. And you didn’t know?’’

“No! Didn’t even suspect,” Emily said almost laughing again, “although, a lot does make sense now. I may have accidentally received a few letters meant for her over the past couple years.”

“What did you mean you’re free?” Nixon was nearly a silhouette in the darkness though they were only standing inches away from each other. The gears were turning in Emily’s mind. She wasn’t sure how much she should reveal to him, but at this point did it matter?

His eyes narrowed. “What?” he asked.

“Can we go inside to talk? It’s cold.” Emily shivered for effect.

 Nixon took her suitcase and led her inside. By habit, they ended up back by their desks in the intelligence room. Officers filled every other comfortable room in the manor house but even so this work room was where they both felt comfortable.

“Coffee? Tea?” Nixon asked going over to the coffee station.

“Tea sounds lovely,” Emily said.

“You really like that stuff? It tastes like brown water to me.” Nixon disappeared to fill the kettle. When he returned he placed the piping hot pot on a crochet pad and set to preparing Emily’s mug with a strain of herbal tea leaves. It was sweet, Emily thought. He had such a look of concentration for such a simple task. Emily felt too restless to sit down so she leaned against Nixon’s desk as she waited for him to finish.

Eventually, Nixon handed her a well-steeped cup. He leaned against her own desk across from where she stood, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

“So what did you mean you’re free?” he asked. So much in Emily’s world had changed in the last twelve hours but Nixon was still his impetuous self.

Emily inhaled deeply, trying to think of how to best explain herself. “What I meant was, I finally feel free without a fiancee. My life, my career here, was on a timer and each day it ticked closer to the buzzer. Now that I’m not engaged I could do anything.”

“Sure, but free is an awfully dramatic word to use.”

Emily shrugged but Nixon didn’t miss her withholding smile. “It’s not like you were trapped, being engaged isn’t a death sentence,” Nixon cocked his head, “well, not complete death.”

“It wasn’t the end of the world, no,” Emily conceded, “but it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

“Then why were you engaged to him in the first place?”   Emily eyed Nixon wearily. “You can tell me,” he said soothingly, “I promise Em, you can trust me.”

Emily sipped her tea meditatively. Could she trust him? He had teased her over what she had confessed to him in the past.

 “Fine, you don’t have to tell me,” Nixon said, “but just know that I regret embarrassing you back then.” Nixon nudged his shoulder, gesturing back in time. “I shouldn’t have teased you about something sensitive, especially in front of Harry.”

Emily flushed hot at the mention of Harry. She had thought of him on the train. Then she had thought of Kitty. The woman she had only briefly seen in a little black and white photo, and a character that seemed further away the more she and Harry spent time together. If Emily had learned anything today it was that not all men were as noble as they seemed. A very deep-set, shameful part of Emily wondered if Harry weren’t as noble as he seemed.

“You have to promise, Lewis. If I tell you anything it stays here, between you and me.”

“Between you and me.”

Emily cleared her throat in preparation and took another sip of tea. “I met John at a Notre Dame social. I liked him enough at first. He was cute, still a boy, but entertaining enough. I was so bored at school and happy to have a distraction. And, I have to admit, I didn’t hate the other girls envy that I was on the arm of a Notre Dame football player.”

Nixon snorted, he couldn’t stand jocks. Emily glared at him. “Continue,” Nixon prompted with a wave of his hand.

“Anyway, things were fun, casual. And we began…” Emily circled her finger in a propelling movement, “ya know.”

“What?”

“We began having relations.”

“You slept together?”  

“Yes,” Emily said curtly, “which again was just fun and casual.” She paused, “but then I got pregnant.”

Nixon’s eyes widened. His expression said what everyone’s did; so where’s the baby? A steel hand clenched around Emily’s heart.   

“Obviously, it was a disaster when I found out. I wasn’t married, hadn’t graduated yet, but at least I had a guy on the hook. I didn’t know who was devastated more, me or my parents.” Emily’s gaze was far away now. She was falling away into the land of memory. The only thing anchoring her to the room was the hot mug clutched tightly between her hands. “I felt like my life was over. The best I could hope for was that John would make a decent woman out of me, which he did. He proposed. My parents, my mom, was thrilled and the wedding was rushed ahead. The hope was that we could be married before anyone realized this baby was conceived out of wedlock,” it was Emily’s turn to snort.

“But a few weeks before the big day I began bleeding,” Emily tried to swallow past the rock that had formed in her throat. The sorrow that had overwhelmed her then was edging itself back into her chest. “I lost the baby,” her voice was barely a whisper, it was all she could manage. “my mom thought John would cut and run. He had no reason to be with me anymore. She told me I was spoiled goods. She was terrified no other man would want me. I asked her why did anyone have to know? But in a town like ours, the size of ours, it was unavoidable. Everyone knew about the wedding and suspected the reason. Luckily, John didn’t cut and run. He honored our engagement. The wedding was pushed back but then Pearl Harbor happened, and John enlisted.” Reaching the end of her sad story, Emily finally looked at Nixon. His eyes were darker then she had ever seen them. His mouth was fixed in a taught line across his face. She couldn’t read him at all. He was probably disgusted by her - her recklessness, her lack of backbone and desperation for any man who would take her. “So, now you’re all caught up,” she said quietly.

“Emily,” when he finally spoke his voice was raspy, “I’m so sorry.”

Emily fought against the sobs that were forming in her chest, her throat and eyes. If she let the tears fall they wouldn’t be out of relief like before but tears of utter grief. A grief she didn’t have the energy to touch tonight. She shrugged, “yeah, well, apparently I was just an obligation to John. But that’s fine, he was only meant to be a fun time for me. We weren’t each others forever.”

The corner of Nixon’s mouth turned up, “careful, one may say you’re a romantic Miss Rooney.”

Emily smiled, “maybe one day. Not today, I’ve got a job to do.”

“Come here,” Nixon pulled her into a tight hug and Emily let him. She allowed her body to melt into him and allowed herself to, in that moment, be completely dependent on him. She exhaled her suppressed sadness gratefully into his broad chest. The lump in her throat grew stronger but she fought against it by concentrating on Nixon’s warm embrace, the smell of his aftershave and the roughness of his uniform against her cheek. All was well with the world, she reminded herself. Her future had never seemed more hopeful.

Finally, Nixon released her. “Ya know, George Luz is going to be thrilled to hear you’re single again.”

 Emily laughed a true laugh and punched him on the shoulder. “Leave it alone, Lew.”

#band of brothers #hbo band of brothers #fanfiction #as far as friends go #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x oc #original character #harry welsh #george luz #george luz x oc #harry welsh x oc #hbo war

16 notes · View notes

xbaepsae · 4 years ago

Text

the ebb and flow | part one

“But you do know that it’s possible for a child of wisdom and a child of the sea to be amicable. Maybe even be more than that. However, at the end of the day, it’s really just because of you and Jeongguk.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 2.2k

rating: pg-13

warnings: language, character tension lol

a/n: ahhh. today’s our baby bun’s birthday + dynamite is number one on billboard, so you know i had to deliver something! for a while now, i’ve wanted to start a drabble series (especially since i always feel pressured to write longer 10k+ fics). also, i love pjo so, so much. this idea has been on my mind for a while now, so i really hope you all enjoy! i can’t wait for you guys to read the next parts :) xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer - in which you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place

Perhaps, challenging Cabin Three to an impromptu capture the flag game had been a bad idea from the start. However, you fully blame their head counselor for egging you on in the first place.

If Jeon Jeongguk would just learn to keep his damn mouth shut, maybe you wouldn’t have felt the need to defend yourself. The only reason you challenged Poseidon’s cabin in the first place was because he called your battle strategy weak. Thinking about it now, you honestly don’t recall how the conversation even got to that subject—after all, you and Jeongguk argued a lot most days—but you knew he was wrong.

How could you—a daughter of Athena—have weak battle strategy? The idea was absolutely absurd. Your mother was the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy; and as a child who literally sprung forth from her brain, you inherited every drop of her skills.

While you admit that the son of Poseidon is probably one of the more capable demigods here—though you’ll never dare say it to his face—he’s also arrogant, and arrogance never wins in a game of pure strategy. Thus, in the five summers you both have attended Camp Half-Blood, you’ve won more capture the flag games than Jeongguk has. Maybe he forgot that little fact.

“Are you sure you want to lose again, Jeon?” you asked him, a smirk stretched across your lips.

“I think you’ll be the one losing today, miss goody-two-shoes.”

Unfortunately, neither of you managed a victory this time because a certain someone from Apollo’s cabin spilled the beans to Chiron. You don’t even know how Jung Hoseok found out about the game, probably from one of those sneaky Hermes kids, but you were going to—

“Y/n, I expected better from you.”

You freeze up at the disappointed look on Chiron’s face. Although your pride is wounded, you know he’s right—you’ve always been a top-notch camper, which is why you’re head counselor of your cabin. However, when Jeongguk gets involved, you just can’t seem to think clearly. Beside you, you hear the devil himself break into laughter. He attempts to hide it as a cough, but Chiron doesn’t buy it and shoots him a glare.

“Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook either, Jeongguk.” The boy sobers up. “You both know better.”

“Sorry, Chiron,” the apology simultaneously slips past both your lips.

The centaur sighs. “It was quite reckless to get both your cabins involved like that. It’s only the first full week of summer, and things are already this bad?”

You know he’s referring to the first time you and Jeongguk butted heads together. It was your second summer, and Jeongguk accidentally shot a canon of water in your face while you were practicing your archery. Your natural reaction was to shoot an arrow back at him. Obviously, you both got a mouthful from Mr. D afterwards.

Since then, as each summer’s gone by, it’s been little things—like tripping each other, spilling food on each other, causing the other to lose at games. This impromptu capture the flag is probably the worst thing you’ve both decided to do.

“I promise it won’t happen again,” you speak up, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Can you?” Chiron lifts a brow.

Suddenly, Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, I sure can. Because it was y/n’s idea in the first place—”

“Only because you made me do it!” you interrupt, facing him now. “It’s always you and your cocky attitude that gets us in trouble.”

“Well, what about your pride, huh? You’re too damn prideful to admit that you. Can. Be. Wrong,” he spats. “Have you thought about that?”

You are riled up; you can feel your body shaking. “I’m never wrong, Jeon Jeongguk.”

“I think that’s enough, you two.”

Taking a step back, you release a deep exhale and turn to face Chiron again. “Sorry…again.”

He just waves your words away and clears his throat. “I will let this incident go”—your ears perk up at that— “only if you two serve a punishment.”

Your stomach drops at his words. In all of your years here, you’ve never done anything bad enough to warrant a punishment. You’ve seen plenty of younger campers receive penalties in the past, but you’re eighteen now and the thought of having to do something embarrassing in front of the entire camp makes you nauseous. No one would let you live that down.

“How about cleaning the Pegasus stalls for a week?”

“A week?” you exasperate. Cleaning stalls was much better than doing something during the campfire, that’s for sure. But still—a week is a long time. You have campers to take care of. “I don’t have a week to spare just to clean—”

“Okay,” Chiron interrupts. “We’ll make it two.”

Jeongguk shoots you a death glare, but you can’t help the next words that tumble past your lips.

“But isn’t Taehyung in charge of the stables?” You refer to the son of Zeus. “Why the—”

“Should I make it a whole month?”

“Two weeks is perfect,” Jeongguk grits through his teeth.

“Okay, I expect you both to be at the stables sharp and early tomorrow morning then,” Chiron smiles. “Just be glad Dionysus isn’t here this week or you both would’ve had worse punishments.”

After he dismisses you both, you begrudgingly follow Jeongguk out of the Big House. By this point, it’s almost dinnertime and you really should make sure everyone in your cabin is already at the dining pavilion. As you’re lost in thought about what to eat for dinner tonight, Jeongguk suddenly turns around and forces you to stop in your tracks.

“Thanks a lot,” he practically spits out venom. “Your big mouth gave us an extra week with the Pegasi.”

“Looks who’s talking,” you frown. “You have the biggest mouth there is.”

“At least I know when to shut up,” he retorts. “Now, we have to clean the stables every damn morning.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t act like I actually want to spend more time with you than I already do, Jeon.”

Bypassing him, you ignore his grunts of protest and make your way to Cabin Six. Outside of the gray building, you already see some of your half-siblings making their way to dinner. You greet a few of them, but they’re not who you’re looking for. Walking inside the cabin, you search the stacks of the books and finally find who you’re searching for. As if he knows you’re staring at him, he looks in your direction. “Hey.”

“Hey, Namjoon,” you wave at him.

He sets the book he’s holding down and begins walking towards you. “How did the meeting with Chiron go?”

“Oh,” you awkwardly scratch the back of your head. “Jeongguk and I have to clean the Pegasi stables for two weeks.”

Namjoon scrunches his nose at that. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Tell me about,” you sigh, and then look him in the eyes. “Because of that, would you mind helping me with counselor duties these next few weeks?”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “I mean, it can’t be that bad, right?”

You consider Kim Namjoon to be your second-in-command. As a son of Athena, he is equally as brilliant as you—if not more so—and is a natural born leader. And in all honesty, he could’ve been the head of the cabin; except, he didn’t want to. Something about how he’d rather spend his days doing more productive things.

“Yeah,” you nod, “just make sure everyone’s awake in time for breakfast—you know how some of the kids can be without proper nutrition—and morning activities.”

Namjoon seems to ponder this for a moment before agreeing and you both head off to the dining pavilion. You’re thankful that there’s someone like him in your cabin, that you two get to be technical half-siblings. Because it’s going to be a long next two weeks.

That night at dinner, as you’re drinking from the pavilion goblets, you feel a pair of eyes burn the back of your head. You don’t even have to turn around to know it’s from table three. Jeongguk’s predictable like that. And as you throw your food offerings into the fire and prepare for the nightly campfire, you never feel his gaze leave you.

***

A part of you wants to blame the fact that you hate Jeongguk so much on your mother’s rivalry with his dad.

Ever since Athena became the patron saint of Athens, you know she’s had issues with Poseidon. You don’t know why—olives are so much better than a salty water spring anyway. But you do know that it’s possible for a child of wisdom and a child of the sea to be amicable. Maybe even be more than that.

However, at the end of the day, it’s really just because of you and Jeongguk.

Ever since you were thirteen and started your first year at camp, you’ve hated him. What started off as a simple dislike became this thing where you can’t even stand to be in the same room as him. Every half-blood knows that you both are rivals, which is why you’ve never willingly been on the same capture the flag team or on a quest together. Not that you’d want to anyway.

Which is why it makes this punishment so terrible. You have no doubt Chiron knew exactly what he was doing.

Despite your repulsion towards the son of Poseidon, you wake up before the sunrises—which isn’t entirely unusual for you. But what is unusual is that you don’t even have time to pick up a book or look through your laptop. You already have somewhere to be.

After you pull on your orange t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, you slip your sneakers on and make your way towards the stables. As you walk past the arena and volleyball courts, you’re surprised to see a few campers already walking around. A few of them give you curious glances, probably wondering why the head counselor of Athena’s cabin is outside at this hour; but you ignore their looks and continue marching ahead.

Once you make it to the stables, you already see Kim Taehyung unlocking the gate. He must hear you approaching because he turns around with a boxy smile on his face. “Good morning, y/n.”

You wonder how someone like him could be so cheery this early in the morning; on the surface, Taehyung appears rather nice—approachable, even. However, you know that he often has a storm brewing in his eyes. He isn’t afraid to zap people with lightning.

“Hey…”

“I’m so excited you and Jeongguk get to be here with the Pegasi. When Chiron told me about your p—I mean, when he mentioned that you guys would be helping, I thought it was very nice of him,” Taehyung finally unlocks the gate and beckons you to follow him.

Inside the stables, you notice that quite a few of the Pegasi are already awake and begging for attention. You pet one gently on the head, enjoying the soft hair underneath your fingers. Maybe this punishment wouldn’t be so bad.

“He wants to know if you have any carrots.”

Pulling your hand away, you realized you’re getting ahead of yourself. Looking towards the doorway, Jeongguk stands there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. You know he’s referring to the Pegasus, and you forgot that he could communicate with equines.

“Oh good, you’re here Jeongguk,” Taehyung claps a little too enthusiastically. “That way I don’t have to explain everything twice.”

The son of Zeus explains what he does every morning and every evening, and everything seems easy enough. All you and Jeongguk have to do is clean and feed the Pegasi. Taehyung mentions that he’ll swing by during the week if you two need help, but you let him know that he doesn’t have to do that—everything’s pretty self-explanatory.

“Also, you don’t have to worry about letting them out,” Taehyung continues. “Campers come to ride them during the day, so they should be fine when it’s nighttime.”

After he shows you two where everything is, Taehyung leaves you with the key and two to get to work. By the time you and Jeongguk are done with everything, it feels like hours have surely gone by. Although the work itself is easy enough, there are more Pegasi than you realized.

“How the hell does Taehyung do all of this by himself?” you ask once you put your broom away. You don’t expect an answer, but Jeongguk gives you one anyway.

“He’s been doing this since he got here. I guess he really likes Pegasi.”

Turning to face Jeongguk, you don’t miss the way sweat beads along his forehead and how he uses the bottom of his orange shirt to wipe it away. Your eyes travel down to the exposed skin of his abdomen, drinking in the sight of his tan and toned body. Before he can realize you’ve been staring for a second too long, you’re already halfway out of the stable.

Did I just check out Jeongguk? No, you shake your head; you were just looking at what was in front of you. Besides, he was talking to you anyway. You were not admiring him at all.

“What time are we supposed to meet back here?” his voice catches you before you can get too far.

You stop and turn back around. “I guess before the campfire?”

Jeongguk nods at that, and you proceed to ignore him for the rest of the day. At least, until you both have to be at the stables again later.

127 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 10: Truth or Truth

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which the truth comes out.

Word count: 6.6k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

Well, this is one crazy chapter 👀 Let me know what you think because I’m thirsty for feedback. But also don’t be to harsh on me I’m fragile.

The last Sunday of the month. Laura Hilfgard’s flat. Y/N’s book was almost finished and ready for submission, and she was at the top of her game. She’d been putting off everything else to write, and for the first time in her life, everything was happening according to plan. Last year’s Y/N would’ve spent every passing moment waiting for something to go wrong. The writer-to-be Y/N, however, was living her best life.

“Are you sure you want to omit the confrontation scene in chapter ten?” Laura asked once they’d stopped for a tea break.

Y/N stirred her tea slowly, still contemplating her handwritten notes. “You don’t need drama in every chapter. It’s not realistic.”

“It’s fiction,” said Laura. Y/N glanced up with an eyebrow lifted, and the agent exhaled as she raised her hands, palms out. “Sorry, ma’am. Your book.”

Blowing into her tea, Y/N closed her pink notebook and took a sip. “Sorry, it’s just the story is based on what happened to me.”

“Oh?” Laura blinked, sounding both surprised and intrigued.

“I changed a few things,” Y/N said. “But yeah, my boyfriend used to be my neighbour. We met in his treehouse twelve years ago.”

“Your boyfriend is Harry Styles, right?”

“You know him?”

“Everyone does.” Laura stopped stirring her tea to add more sugar with the same spoon. She’d been stirring and adding sugar for the last five minutes, which made Y/N wonder if she was going to drink at all. “I’ve heard so many stories about you two. You make a fine couple.”

“You’ve heard stories about us?” Y/N carefully set down her cup and smiled questioningly at the woman. “From whom?”

“Everyone,” Laura said and finally brought the cup to her red lips. Y/N watched Laura take the first sip of her overly sweet tea, and the only thing that came to Y/N’s mind was the likelihood of a connection between Laura and Harry.

Impossible. Harry would never have interfered. Not after their fight about John Conall. Besides, Blake had been the one who’d suggested her to Laura, not Harry. So how could Harry have possibly done anything?

Or could he?

What if he’d contacted Laura right after Blake had given the manuscript to her? No, Harry would never lie to Y/N. Harry, of all people, would understand how much this meant to her, that she’d accomplished everything on her own without his help. Harry, of all people, would believe in her.

Once she got back to her flat, she found herself pacing back and forth in her living room, clutching her phone to her chest as she tried to decide if she should just call and ask him. Him saying he had no connection to her literary agent would put Y/N out of her misery. But that would prove that she didn’t trust him, and he’d be so angry, and they would fight again. Things had been going so well recently she didn’t want to mess it up. Although there was a tiny part of her doubting everything, mostly herself…

Her phone rang, and she jumped. It was Harry. Biting her nail, she slid her thumb across the screen to answer and tried her best not to sound like she’d been overthinking. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, are you working?”

“I just got back from Laura’s.”

“Is the book done?”

“Yup. We’ve submitted it to some publishers, and all we have to do now is wait.”

“That’s my girl.”

The question about Laura was on the tip of her tongue. She bit her nail instead and took a seat on the couch as he went on, “Don’t hate me for what I’m about to say, okay?”

“Okay.” She kept her tone light and neutral while unconsciously picking at a thread on her skirt.

“I forgot that I’d have dinner with my dad. I know I said I’d take you out tonight–”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly and sat on her hand to stop her fidgeting. “You’ve been spending quite a lot of time with your dad.”

“Yeah,” he sighed contentedly. “Now that I don’t have to hide it from my mum or Gemma anymore, I can support Dad and Emi without feeling bad about it.”

“Support? As in...financially?” She hoped she didn’t sound too judgy.

He was quiet for a full second. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Harry…”

“No, hear me out. They owed the bank a lot of money because of the accident. I only helped them pay their debt. It’s not like I’m buying them a car or a house.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “You’ve been giving them so many expensive things, and Isaac told me you’ve also been helping Emi get back to acting.”

“ ‘Help’ as in I got her to castings. She still needs to audition like everyone else. I don’t ask directors to give her roles that she’s incompetent at, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything.” Maybe she was. “It’s just...you can’t live their lives for them, Harry.”

“I don’t. I’m only trying to help.”

“You can help, and you should. Just don’t overspend on them.”

“They’re family.”

She almost told him ‘not really’ and ‘I still don’t trust them’, but then let it go once he fell silent. “That wasn’t a fight, was it?” she asked.

“Of course not, kid.” His low laugh brought her a sense of relief. She straightened before leaning into the couch, staring at one of the cracks on her ceiling.

“I gotta go now. Talk to you later?” he said cautiously.

So she kept her tone light. “Sure. Have fun acting.”

“Have fun writing. Love you.”

She giggled as he kissed the phone.

“I love you, too.”

Since Gemma ran an online business and therefore wasn’t tied to a desk and a chair, she had decided to stay in London for a couple of days. Those couple of days had turned into two weeks and felt like two freaking months. Time slowed down when she was with Isaac; not that she complained.

She’d been with him constantly since they’d left Holmes Chapel. She wasn’t sure what they were. Friends? Way past that. Lovers? Not quite there. Friends who kissed? Well, sure, that might be a suitable label for their ‘relationship’. Gemma hated labels anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Have you spoken to him?” Isaac asked, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They were at his house, curled up in his bed, watching Netflix. Almost like a happy couple.

“Harry?” Her eyebrows furrowed as one of the characters was being brutally murdered on the screen. Isaac leaned forward and pressed pause right before the dead body collapsed.

Gemma gasped, “Hey!”

“You’ve already watched this,” he chuckled and removed the laptop from her lap before she could resume the movie.

“Still, that’s the best scene!”

He shook his head, placed the laptop on the other side of him and turned around, facing her. “Have you spoken to Asher?”

“No. He’s probably forgotten about me.”

“Gem…”

“Can we not mention my ex at this moment?”

“He’s not your ex yet, and you don’t want to mention him at any moment.” Isaac took her hand and brought it to his lap. “You need to break up with him.”

“He already broke up with me.”

“He said it was a break.”

She groaned and hugged a pillow to her chest. “He said it so he could hook up with whoever he wanted. He’s done this before, disappeared for a week or two. I was pretty sure he was hooking up with his secretary at the time, then he came back and acted like nothing was wrong. I just...I was stupid and I was in love with him. But not anymore. I’ve had enough.”

“So you’re just gonna wait until he reaches out to you, and then break up with him?”

“Yes. I want it to hurt.”

Isaac screwed up his face. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? After all that he’s done to me?”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” He tried to sound unbothered but she could see right through him. “Is that the reason why you’re so determined to make him feel equally bad?”

“No!” She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “I just don’t want him to think he’s so important. I’m not gonna reach out first. Now can we please get back to the movie?”

“Fine,” he huffed and brought the laptop back to his lap.

As she snuggled up to him and he draped his arm around her shoulders again, the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand interrupted them. She groaned when he withdrew himself from her.

“It could be Lee,” he said. Lee was his manager.

But it wasn’t Lee. She could see it on his face as he put down his phone as soon as he’d read the messages.

“Who’s that?”

“Your half-sister,” he said, drawing her back into his arms.

She lay her head on his chest, her eyebrows pulled together. “She’s still your model?”

“We had our last shoot yesterday. If you’d come, you could have met her.”

“It’s so weird that I haven’t.” She tilted her head up to look at his face. “Do you think she’s scared of me? Because I’m not as easy-going as Harry.”

“Probably.” A grin stretched his pink lips as she weakly hit his chest.

“Did you ever fancy her?” She arched an eyebrow so he mimicked her expression.

“Are you jealous of your own sister?”

“Half-sister.”

Her irritated tone got him laughing. “I mean, she is pretty.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, gazing at the ceiling. “Maybe a little.”

Gemma poked his side and he jerked away, doubling over and protecting his sensitive spots from her tickling. They nearly fell off the bed from laughing too hard. Somehow he ended up on his stomach and she on his back, their cheeks together.

He whispered, “Do you think Harry would like the idea of us?”

“Should we call and ask him?”

“Gemma.”

She giggled as his face turned serious. “Of course. You’re his best friend, right?”

“I don’t know about that. He didn’t talk to me until Y/N and I broke up.”

“That’s because she’s Y/N. He didn’t let me come to the treehouse because it was ‘their place’.” She rolled her eyes. “But it was mine first. Dad built it for me.” When she caught him gazing at her, she returned a look just as bemused. “What?”

“You said ‘Dad’. Not Winton.”

“Oh.” She rolled onto her back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Isaac flipped over to lie on his side, his head propped up on his hand. She waited for another question, but he didn’t ask, so she went on, “I still won’t visit him or even talk to him. But I guess there was a time when he was good, and I should give the old him some credits. It’s easier to do that, now that I no longer have to deal with the consequences of him leaving.” She turned to smile at him. “Now that I’ve found someone who really cares about me.”

“Who’s that? Is it me?” He acted shocked and she shoved him away, cackling.

“Come on.” She sat up, grabbed the laptop and beckoned him over. “We still have to finish this terrible movie.”

A week later, Y/N came to Laura’s office after she’d finished two classes in the morning. Laura’s assistant told her Laura had taken a day off because she was sick. “She’s rescheduled the meeting with the publisher this afternoon,” said the assistant. “I was gonna call you but Ms Hilfgard said she’d tell you herself. She’s probably forgotten.”

Weird. Laura never forgot. She was like a machine when it came to business stuff, and Y/N had always wondered where that woman got all that energy. Laura must be very sick. Y/N normally would stay away from other people’s business, but she’d been inseparable from Laura recently, which gave her a sense of responsibility for her agent. She should probably check in on Laura.

“Is she at her flat today?” she asked the assistant, who seemed unsure.

“I think so. Would you like me to call her for you?”

“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself.”

Y/N adjusted her bag on her shoulder, wished the woman a good day and ambled out of the room. She tried calling Laura when she got into the lift, but Laura didn’t answer the phone. A throb in her stomach led her to believe something was wrong.

Everyone got sick once in a while so Laura couldn’t be an exception; she was human after all. But Y/N’s gut feelings were always correct. And if she chose to ignore them, it’d be her fault when something actually happened to Laura, who lived all by herself and had no close friend or family, none that Y/N knew of.

“Laura! It’s me, Y/N!” Y/N banged on the door after she’d rung the doorbell many times and there was no answer. “Laura! Your assistant told me you were sick. I came to check on you.”

Just as she imagined herself kicking down the door like those badass heroines in movies, she heard the sound of it being unlocked, the handle turned, and the door was opened. Her chest caved when Laura appeared, holding the door just wide enough to reveal half of her face. She was in her bathrobe without any makeup on, her skin marked with freckles, her lips dry, her eyes dark and weary, and her hair wasn’t pulled up into a neat bun like it always was. She looked like she’d gone through hell and back.

“Are you all right?” Y/N asked and immediately realised how stupid she’d sounded; of course, Laura wasn’t all right. Look at her.

“I’m very sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have come here.” Laura sounded spacey. The smell of alcohol on her breath was too strong. She held Y/N’s gaze, expecting Y/N to leave, but once she was sure Y/N wasn’t going anywhere, Laura stepped aside and opened the door a bit wider, just enough for Y/N to slip in.

The door was closed. They were standing in the semidarkness; there was still a bit of light coming through the dark blue curtain of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The evident of Laura’s despair was lying on the white carpet in the middle of the room – empty bottles after a wild alcohol-binge. She wasn’t sick. She was drunk.

Laura brushed past a bewildered Y/N and careened toward the sofa. The sofa legs creaked ominously under her weight.

“As you can see, I’m pretty much alive,” she said to the ceiling, an arm placed over her eyes. “You may leave now.”

Y/N wanted to leave. Whatever Laura was dealing with had nothing to do with her. She’d only come to make sure her agent was still alive, and Laura was just drunk for some unknown reason, but that was all Y/N should know. She should leave. Her brain told her to leave, but her guts told her Laura needed help.

She huffed and came to stand at one end of the sofa. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Y/N.”

“You rescheduled a meeting with the publisher without asking me – your author, and then lied about being sick when you’ve been drinking your arse off. So yeah, it has a lot to do with me.”

As Laura didn’t answer, Y/N picked up the woman’s arm and tried to haul her out of the sofa. She resisted the effort, weakly pushing Y/N away.

“Fine. I’m leaving.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest. “Call me when you’ve sobered up.”

“I now see why he’s crazy about you.”

The words froze Y/N to the spot. She slowly turned around and backed away from the front door to return to her previous spot beside Laura. He? Who was he?

Laura’s eyelids fluttered like she was going to fall asleep, but then she continued, “He chose you over me because you’re young and beautiful and ambitious and kind…He chose you over me because...I’m the opposite…”

Y/N’s heart, head, and stomach pulsated at once. “Who...who are you talking about?”

“Blake.”

The name left her in shock. She blinked at Laura, feeling disoriented for a second. She hoped Laura was only messing with her. Laura and Blake? No fucking way.

“He ended it because of you,” Laura went on despite Y/N’s startlement. “We weren’t really together, but he made it clear that we’d never be anything.” She laughed loudly and mirthlessly, her thick dark hair bouncing on her slim shoulders. “You have a boyfriend, and he still chose you over me. I would call him stupid but what would it make me?” Then she glanced up, her glossy eyes filled with wondering and desperation.

Meanwhile, Y/N was stuck in rearranging her thoughts. Everything made sense – Blake had been their connection since the beginning, and Laura had heard so much about Y/N and Harry – but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to believe any of it. She clutched the strap of her handbag and took in the sight of Laura, trying to look for the badass woman hiding underneath.

“I think you should go,” Laura said to her feet and gestured toward the door. “I’ll call you once I’ve sobered up.”

“Do you have anyone else I can call–”

“I don’t need anyone, Y/N. Leave!”

“Okay,” Y/N murmured as she squared her shoulders, gripped the strap of her bag, and marched to the front door.

Thud Thud Thud

“Blake! We need to talk, Blake!”

Blake opened the door and sprang back before Y/N accidentally hit his face with her fist. “Did you sleep with Laura?” she bellowed before he could question, and he blinked as if she was speaking alien language.

“Laura Hilfgard,” her voice dropped, “My fucking agent. For fuck’s sake! Did you sleep with her?”

He still didn’t answer but the look on his face said it all. He couldn’t admit something so horrible.

“Goddamn it, Blake! Fuck!” she roared into her hands, her chest growing hot. When he tried to touch her, she pushed him away and stabbed a finger at his face. “You lied to me!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry–”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Oh, don’t fucking apologise to me. I’m not gonna accept it. Apologise to Laura.”

“We’re over.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, Blake! It’s fucking sick that you slept with her so she would sign me! Fuck you!”

“Y/N!” He caught her wrist and she whipped around to fight him, but his fingers were quick to clasp her other wrist.

“Let me go!”

“Listen to me!” He shook her to get her to stop, and she did, panting and glowering at him. “I didn’t sleep with her so she’d sign you. Yes, I’d...I'd been sleeping with her before. That was how I knew her. I asked her to read your book and she loved it.”

“She only ‘loved’ it because she loved you, Blake!” Y/N yanked her hands back, tears welling up in her eyes. “You broke her and she cancelled the meeting with the publisher. She’s gonna drop me!”

“She won’t. I’ll talk to her–”

“I don’t fucking need your help, Blake. Just…” Y/N stepped back, holding up her hand to stop him from getting any closer. “Just don’t fucking talk to me again.”

“Y/N, please, hey.” He strode forward and got between her and her door, his desperate grey eyes begging her to hear him out. “I swear to you I didn’t do this on purpose. I just wanted to help. You were so desperate and I wanted you to be happy.”

“I was desperate but I wasn’t miserable,” she said through her gritted teeth. “You want me to be happy but what you did was awful, Blake. You made me feel like a talentless piece of shit, that if my boyfriend doesn’t get me a job, then my ex-boyfriend has to sleep with someone for it. God, what is wrong with you?”

“At least I gave your story to Laura and made her read it. Your boyfriend just fucking told John Conall to sign you. He doesn’t even care.”

“Don’t talk about Harry that way. He’s a thousand times better than you.” Then she froze. “How do you even know about Conall?”

“Laura knows him,” Blake said to his feet. “They talked.”

“Fuck this.”

She pulled out her keys and gestured him to get out of the way, but he refused to comply, shaking his head. She had never seen Blake Roman so despondent, and she didn’t like this side of him at all.

“I still love you, Y/N,” he said despite the fact that those were the last words she wanted to hear right now. “I’m sorry I left, but in the last three years, I couldn’t stop thinking about us, and how we could’ve figured out a way to be together instead of giving up. Then I met you here, and...and I–Listen, I’ve been trying to make it up to you–”

“Blake, please…” she breathed, her eyes tight.

“I know you still have feelings for me, Y/N. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent so much time with me. You rarely mentioned him when we were together. We have so much in common and we fit.”

“You’re wrong.” She stared dagger at him and unclenched her fists, taking a deep breath. “I rarely mentioned him because I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew you still had feelings for me. I guess I was wrong to want to keep you in my life as a friend when you don’t belong there anymore.”

“I do, Y/N. I do,” he fretted while she kept shaking her head.

“You don’t. You just...you just felt like childhood, which I can’t keep dwelling on anymore. Both of us need to grow up.” She inclined her head, arms wrapped around herself. “I’m sorry, Blake. I don’t think we can be friends anymore. Not after this.”

“Y/N.”

She didn’t look at him and rushed down the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t go after her. And he didn’t. She came dashing out of the building, her eyes prickling with tears. She couldn’t believe she’d doubted Harry and trusted Blake. She felt like such a fool. She hated herself.

Stopping on the side of the road, she fished her phone out of her handbag to call Harry. But then her screen flashed on with the notification of ‘11 missed calls from Laura H’. Her chest throbbed. She called Laura back.

Laura didn’t answer.

When Gemma stepped out of the lift, fumbling around in her bag for her room key, she almost didn’t notice the man waiting for her in the hallway.

“Gem.”

His voice froze her to the spot. She shot her head up, her heart rate increasing as Asher walked up to her holding a rose bouquet. He was dressed in a fine ocean-blue suit, his dark hair pushed back, the strong scent of his cologne so unbearable. He looked like he was here for a photoshoot or a red carpet event. When he cracked a smile, she responded with a grimace.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off the flowers. The last time he’d got her flowers had been their first Valentine’s Day together; things had gone downhill after that.

“I came to see you,” he said. “To apologise.”

He held the flowers toward her with both hands, and she pushed them right back to him, shaking her head.

“I don’t need your apology,” she said. “You made it clear that day on the phone that this was over and I’m thankful for it.”

“I said ‘a break’.”

“You don’t get to call a break and come back whenever you feel like it,” Gemma said in annoyance. “That’s not how a relationship works.”

She gently pushed right past him to unlock the door. Right as she opened it, he slipped straight into her room. She stared at him, speechless. “Asher, leave.”

“I want to talk, please.”

Frustrated and annoyed, she slammed the door behind her, stormed toward the bed and flung her bag on it. He stood by the door with that stupid bouquet, waiting for his chance to speak.

“I can offer you a deal,” he blurted as she turned around. “You don’t have to get back with me. We can go separate ways after this.”

“Or we can go separate ways now.” She gestured to the door.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard that. “My father really likes you,” he said. “He thinks you keep me grounded. So I think...if you ask him for the investment, he’ll most likely say yes. I'll pay you. Please help me, Gem.”

“No!” Gemma put her hands on her hips, her mouth quirked in annoyance. “You’ve got some nerves to ask me that. We are not getting back together. Go find someone else dumb enough to help you.”

Asher’s mouth fell open. He must have come here thinking she would burst into tears and run into his arms the moment she saw him and forgive him like she always had. If so, he was destined for disappointment.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Why are you like this all of a sudden?”

“Why do I have common sense all of a sudden?” She cocked her head. “Maybe I’ve finally found someone who appreciates me, and is not only with me because he can use me for his own benefit.”

Asher was shallow but he wasn’t stupid. Realization soon dawned on his face. “Have you been cheating on me?”

Before he’d come here, she’d imagined this moment to be extremely awkward, but now she was full of rage. “You and I are not together anymore, Asher,” she snapped. “But well, I did kiss him once when we were ‘together’.”

“You fucking bitch,” Asher bellowed as he threw himself at her. Everything happened so quickly her brain failed to catch on. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, gripping the edge of the table, her head in pain. She spotted the horror on her ex’s face before he broke into a run out of the room, so she reached for her head and looked at her own fingers.

Blood.

He’d pushed her.

Shocked and dizzy, she held the table for support to stand up and hobbled into the bathroom where she grabbed a hand towel, wetted it and tried to clean the wound on her forehead. That was when she heard the door open and close. She spun around, horrified. It was just Isaac.

“What happened?!” He rushed toward her, held her face between his cold palms.

“Asher came here…” was all she could say while shaking her head, feeling herself going unsteady.

“Did he fucking hit you?” Isaac ground his jaw, his eyes turning dark.

She shuddered at the thought and felt hot tears in the wells of her eyes. “I think he pushed me,” she mumbled.

“Fuck!”

She fisted his shirt, afraid that he might run after Asher, who must have been long gone by now. But Isaac didn’t bother to ask about the arsehole. He inspected the wound on her forehead and encircled his arms around her. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“Can I see her?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet,” the nurse answered.

“Is she okay?”

“She will be,” the nurse told Y/N while scribbling something on the clipboard. She’d asked Y/N a bunch of questions about Laura, most of which Y/N had answered with “I don’t know”. She didn’t know if Laura was a regular drinker or if she often drank to drunkenness. Y/N only knew what she’d witnessed – Laura blacked out on her bedroom floor with empty bottles scattering all around.

Laura had been taken to the emergency room where they gave her fluids. The doctor had briefed Y/N, saying Laura had got alcohol poisoning from her alcohol binge, and if Y/N hadn’t found her – if she’d locked the door after Y/N had left – then something terrible could have happened tonight. Y/N wasn’t sure if Laura would be okay, but things could have gone worse and she was grateful it hadn’t.

“Is there any family member that we could call?” asked the nurse, who was finally making eye contact with Y/N.

“I-I don’t know. I’m just her client,” Y/N said, rubbing her palms together nervously. “Maybe uhm...maybe I can call her assistant.”

“It’s fine. She’s in a better condition now. We’ll just get information from her when she wakes up.”

Y/N thanked the nurse and sat in one of the chairs in the hallway. She thought of calling Harry but didn’t have any motivation to do it, so she sat with her head against the wall, watching the nurses’ station while she waited for better news.

She didn’t know what time it was. She was already fatigued. She felt herself drifting away when a voice pulled her right back.

“Y/N?”

She looked up. Isaac and Gemma were just as shocked to see her. Gemma didn’t look like herself; she was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood on, covering her forehead. Y/N didn’t want to assume the hoodie was Isaac’s, but something told her it wasn’t Gemma’s.

“What...are you guys doing here?” Y/N slowly rose from her seat, her eyes switching back and forth between Isaac and Gemma. “Together.”

Isaac worked his jaw, unable to get any word out as he looked over at Gemma imploringly, and she heaved a sigh. Y/N was losing patience with the suspense when Gemma pulled back the hood to reveal her bandaged forehead.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Y/N gasped, pushing past Isaac to grab Gemma’s shoulders. “Did you get into an accident?”

“Y-Yeah.” Gemma looked unconfident, her eyes searching for Isaac’s again. Something was wrong, and neither of them wanted to tell Y/N what it was. She would have been mad if she didn’t have her own problems to worry about. What a crazy day it had been.

She was going to ask Isaac why he’d been the one to take Gemma to the hospital, but he went first. “Why are you here?”

“A friend of mine got into trouble,” she said. It was only fair that she got to be ambiguous too.

“Alice?” Gemma looked concerned.

“No.”

Isaac grimaced. “Eddie?”

“No!” Y/N rolled her eyes at their surprised reactions. “You guys really assume I have only two friends in London?”

“You do have only two friends in London,” Isaac said, beaming, “Besides us.”

Y/N assumed he meant him, Niall, and Harry. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wasn’t going to give him that.

For the second time, she meant to ask why he’d taken Gemma here, but right as she opened her mouth, a nurse showed up with a clipboard.

“Miss Styles," she called.

“Yes?” Gemma whipped around as the nurse sauntered right past her like she wasn’t there.

Confused and surprised, they all watched the nurse head toward the end of the hallway, where sat a brunette with her headphones on. Her hair was covering her face as she was looking down at her phone. The nurse had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She glanced up, eyes popping out the moment she saw them. Y/N, Isaac, and Gemma looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“Emilia Styles,” repeated the nurse since Emilia wasn’t looking at her. “You can see your mother now.”

Y/N glanced over at Isaac and Gemma, who looked as if they’d seen a ghost. The nurse said something else to Emilia and went into one of the rooms. Emilia told the nurse she’d be right back as she shoved her headphones into her tote bag, got up and made way toward Y/N, Isaac and Gemma.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said with a pretentious smile; it was the same smile she always wore, but it was only until this moment that Y/N realized how pompous it was.

“Drop the act,” Y/N snapped. “Are you gonna fucking tell us why you’re here? Or should we go ask your mum who is still ALIVE?”

Isaac held her back by the arm before she could even consider doing something to Emilia. She didn’t want to get violent; she wasn’t that type of person. Not yet.

“Fine.” The fake smile disappeared as Emilia stood taller despite having been exposed. “My mum’s alive,” she calmly confessed. “She has cancer, and my dad doesn’t work anymore so I have to take care of them.”

“With Harry’s money?” Gemma snarled. Y/N believed if Gemma’s head wasn’t hurt, she would have already torn Emilia to pieces.

“I didn’t take anything Harry didn’t want to give.” Emilia crossed her arms and lifted her chin, which made Y/N more shocked than angry; she didn’t know it was possible to be this shameless.

“So everything was fake?” Y/N asked. “You made up a nice little story calling your mum crazy for burning down the house and–”

“It was my dad,” Emilia said with her eyes closed as she sucked in an unsteady breath and opened her eyes at the long exhalation. “He was drunk and he set the house on fire. That was after my mum had been diagnosed with cancer. He was very upset because we didn’t have enough money for the treatment. I had to drop out and use my college money for it.” Then she swallowed and looked over at Isaac, who’d been speechless the whole time. “I’m sorry, Isaac. But when we met I recognised you right away. I knew you were Harry’s friend, and I saw you as an opportunity. We had to lie because Harry didn’t trust us at first; he thought Dad was a terrible man–”

“No decent man would lie to his own son to steal his money!”

“We weren’t stealing!” Emilia half-shouted at Gemma then frantically looked around. A few nurses stared at them with concern but no one attempted to interfere. Emilia turned back to Gemma and lowered her voice, “We were gonna tell him everything.”

“When?” Y/N scoffed. “When your mum gets better? Or when you finally become a successful actress living off Harry’s fame?”

“I started with a lie and I had to go through it.” Emilia huffed, her forehead creased. “Things have got so much better since Harry came into our lives. He paid off our bank debt, for Dad’s medicines, for our food. We never asked him for more money. We simply sold the expensive stuff he bought for us as gifts to pay the hospital bills for Mum. I still have to go to work, but now I can also go to auditions. And Harry doesn’t lose anything. He loves Dad, and he’s rich anyway.”

“Harry worked for everything he owns now,” Gemma hissed. “Your dad doesn’t get to live on the money of the son he left and tried to steal from.”

Emilia’s lips quirked in a scornful manner. “You’re just bitter because Dad doesn’t love you.”

Y/N’s gaze jumped to Gemma, whose face was white with shock. She didn’t expect that. None of them expected that. It was so hurtful. Because it was the truth...

“It was my plan. Dad just went along with it,” Emilia went on despite Gemma’s fists shaking as she refrained herself from tackling Emilia to the floor. Emilia knew Y/N and Gemma couldn’t do anything to her in a hospital hallway, and Isaac would never lay hands on a woman. She considered Gemma’s face. “He just wanted my mum to get better. We knew Harry wouldn’t help us if he had to go behind yours and your mum’s back, so I had to reach out to you first. I had to gain your approval.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Gemma sneered and waved her hand when Emilia gazed at her alarmedly. “Do go on. When will we get to the part where you’re forgivable?”

“Say anything you want, but I did it for a reason,” Emilia murmured, her eyes piercing at Gemma. “What are your reasons for cheating on your boyfriend and sleeping with your brother’s best friend?”

Gemma growled and launched herself at Emilia, who jumped right back as Isaac dragged Gemma away. A few nurses had gathered to watch them, unsure if it was necessary to call security. The four of them weren’t really fighting or being loud, but Y/N wasn’t sure how long they could maintain peace.

“Did I say something wrong?” Emilia looked at Isaac, whose eyes fastened on Y/N’s face at once.

“You two?” Y/N stared at him and Gemma in disbelief.

“Asher and I are over, Y/N,” Gemma said, reaching for Y/N’s hand. Y/N let her hold it, only because Y/N was too shocked to move.

“Does Harry know?” she asked quietly. Gemma and Isaac both shook their heads.

“Guess I’m not the only one who lied to Harry after all.”

Isaac shot Emilia a glare even though his features were incredibly calm. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“This isn’t a game of Truth or Dare,” she told him. “I’m not gonna blackmail you into doing something for me in return for my silence. I’m not a good person but I’m not that awful. I just wanted to help my mum. I don’t care what it takes.” Her voice suddenly dropped as she took a step further from them. “And I really liked you, Isaac. I’m sorry.”

Y/N could tell Isaac had a lot he wanted to say to Emilia, but he kept his lips tight because she wasn’t worth it. From the way Emilia was looking at him, she must regret lying to him the most. What about Harry? Harry didn’t deserve this. He’d been nothing but kind to her and Winton.

“Miss Y/L/N?” a nurse interjected. She was the one who’d spoken to Y/N about Laura. “Your friend is awake. Would you like to see her?” she told Y/N, who sighed in relief. At least this night didn’t go all the way down a pit of despair.

“I have to go,” she told Isaac and Gemma.

Isaac caught Y/N’s elbow before she could follow the nurse. “You’re not gonna tell Harry, are you?”

“I’m not gonna do the hard work for you three,” she said, giving all of them – even Emilia – a disappointed look. “You’re all going to tell him tomorrow. Not tonight. I don’t want his night to be ruined as well.” Then she fixed her eyes on Emilia, whose face was blank; either she hid her emotions really well, or she didn’t feel like any normal person would. Y/N stabbed a finger at Emilia, her voice rough, “You and your family better stay the fuck away from my boyfriend, or you’re gonna have to deal with his lawyer, and it won’t be pretty.”

The other nurses looked scared when Y/N caught them watching. She couldn’t even work up a smile as she mouthed the word “sorry” and marched right past them.

#my girl series

198 notes · View notes

pastelbrachypelma · 4 years ago

Text

Blind Date

Requested by @swampythesweetsketch ! Thank you for your suggestion and I hope you like it!

“I’m so nervous,” Murray admitted, sitting in front of the mirror and staring at himself. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Dude, c’mon!” Sly retorted, barely looking up from where he was putting a top coat over Murray’s nail polish. “If he doesn’t like you, then I’m Santa Claus!”

“That can be arranged,” Bentley teased. “Seriously, though, Murray. Just be yourself. That’s how to be the most attractive.”

“Yeah,” Murray looked away. “I guess. But…”

“Hey,” Sly slid onto the vanity, gently pushing aside a makeup palette with his tail as he sat directly in front of his friend. “Stop worrying, okay?” He grinned. “You know this guy is into you. You’ve been talking for ages. It’s worth a shot at least, right?”

“Right!” Murray squared his shoulders like he was going into battle, and wasn’t wearing holographic nails and a smokey eye. “Thanks for doin my topcoat for me, Sly. And thanks for helping me with my suit, Bentley.”

“No problem,” his brothers said simultaneously.

Sly patted Murray’s shoulder. “Go get ‘im, pal.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Bentley promised.

Murray smiled, and headed out the door.

“All right, Sly,” Bentley said, “you know what to do.”

Sly grabbed his binocucom and cane. “On it!”

Murray was already nervous enough being in a sizable crowd with bounty on his head, but, just as Sly had assured him, Murray was the best at disguises out of all of them, and nobody would recognize “The Murray” with makeup on.

He liked his makeup look; just a foundation to match his skin tone, a little contour, blush, and a smokey eye. Sly had helped with his nails, and they looked good. It wasn’t like Murray couldn’t have done it on his own, but Sly wanted to help, and he was better at nails than at eyeliner. Murray chuckled to himself, thinking of the last time Sly tried to do a winged liner. He’d looked even more like a raccoon than usual!

He was sitting alone at the table, waiting for his date, like he had been for the better part of an hour. Every time the door opened, he would look up, expecting to see a handsome man looking for his table. But, it was just couples or families. He sighed. He was sure a blind date would’ve been better, seeing as nobody could turn him down just because of his weight, but maybe the guy had guessed, judging by how much Murray talked about recipes. Or maybe he thought Murray was a sissy, or…

The door opened again, to someone by themselves. Except Murray could recognize that tail in his sleep. Sly had a satin jacket over a button-down shirt, hair slicked back. He was wearing the dance shoes they’d stolen from India, and was looking a little lost. Murray was a bit worried for two reasons. The first was that Sly was here at all; had something happened? The second was that Sly could only handle big crowds if he was at a social event. Parties, he liked. There were excuses to mingle in small groups. He had never liked large throngs of people. If Sly has a panic attack…

But instead, Sly found him (after pretending to have been looking for him) and waved. Murray waved back, confused, as Sly strode forward confidently through the crowd.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Sly said, brushing dust off his lapels. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You didn’t,” Murray said, a bit confused. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Sly demurred, giggling shyly. “Oh, don’t be silly! How could I ever turn down a hunk like you?”

Murray wanted to laugh. Sly liked playing the effeminate gay. The question was, why was he doing that in the first place? At that moment, the door to the restaurant opened again, and Bentley rolled his wheelchair inside. People who were waiting for a table stepped aside to give him room. He was disguised as well, a cloth hat matching the more casual dark wash denim jacket he was wearing over a black necktie. Murray could appreciate the aesthetic...but he was still confused.

Bentley made his way towards the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, pitching his voice deeper in contrast to the way Sly’s had been more high-pitched. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” He glared at Sly.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Sly pointed an accusing finger at Bentley. “I’m here for my date!”

“So am I,” Bentley said, and Murray smiled, starting to catch on. “One of us has the wrong table and you, buddy,” the turtle wheeled into Sly’s space, making the raccoon step back, hand splayed on his heart in dramatic offense, “are definitely at the wrong table. This gentleman is far too handsome for you!”

“I think he’s just the right amount of handsome,” Sly argues. “Just look at those bulging muscles,” he gestured, and Murray flexed, having a bit of fun now that he was in on the joke. “A man like that deserves the world!”

“Guys, you’re gonna make me blush,” Murray grumbled under his breath. Sly winked before sliding back into character as Bentley charged further.

“And? You still kept this gorgeous man waiting! Look at the poor guy’s makeup! All smudged because you were off…” Bentley waved his hand as he searched for an insult, “vaping!”

Sly gasped. “Do you think I would smoke around such a deceptively delicate flower?! The nerve!”

Murray looked over again as the restaurant doors opened. It was his real date, a buck with gold chains draped artfully around his antlers, dressed to the nines in a slimming suit to complement his slender body. Murray recognized the designer logo on his tie, and felt shame creep up his throat as he thought of his thrifted jacket and pilfered shirt. Even the silk skirt he was so proud of made him feel like a freak next to this guy.

“What’s going on here?” The buck spoke, his voice like molten chocolate, as he approached the table. “Which of you is Murray?” His eyes slid approvingly over Sly, and Murray hid his face. “I hope it’s you, handsome.”

“Sorry,” Sly slid in beside Murray, hooking his arm through the hippo’s. “I’m taken. Happily.”

“Me too.” Bentley took Murray’s hand, glaring at the buck.

The deer narrowed his eyes, then laughed. “Oh, thank god,” he said, relieved. “I could never be seen with such a,” he waved his hand derisively, “hideous beast.”

“Hey,” Sly said, voice sharp despite the different pitch. Murray recognized it as the raccoon’s “don’t fuck with me” voice, a rarely seen anger flashing in his eyes. “Murray is amazing! He’s funny and kind and always knows what to say!”

“His strength and skill can’t be matched!” Bentley agreed.

“And tonight, he’s my date.” Sly declared. “So fuck off.”

“No, he’s my date,” Bentley argued. “You fuck off!”

As his two friends bickered, Murray watched the deer walk away. He felt a little bit upset at the rejection, but his friends were nearby, defending him on what was technically their night off. He felt warm inside even so. It was good to be with his brothers again.

Once the deer was out of sight, Sly deflated. “Ack, my throat,” he complained. “I don’t know how you do those high-pitches voices, Murray. I feel like I’ll be raspy by tomorrow!”

Murray chuckled. “It takes practice.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Bentley suggested. “I think we’ve caused enough of a scene.” He glanced at the table. “Nothing needs to be paid for, right?”

“Nope. I didn’t order yet.” Murray replied.

“Let’s get Chinese,” Sly said, stretching as Murray got to his feet. “I saw a great place on the way over.” He locked his arm through Murray’s, hiding a yawn in the hippo’s bicep.

“Do you mean you saw it or smelled it?” Bentley asked, guiding Murray to the handles of his chair. That was about equivalent to hand-holding, Murray knew.

Sly laughed. “Both!”

“Chinese sounds fantastic,” Murray said, sighing in the fresh air. He was still upset about being stood up. He was glad for his friends, but…

“That guy was a complete jerk,” Bentley grumbled, going back to controlling his own chair as Sly let go of Murray. It wasn’t a sudden “no homo” sort of thing, though. It was more of a natural progression as they walked together on the sidewalk, with Bentley’s chair a half-step ahead. “What didjya day his name was?”

“Pierce Monogram,” Murray said. “Trust fund baby, I think. Works in the family business selling shoes.”

“That’s ironic,” Sly mused, swinging his arms up to rest behind his head as he walked. “He wasn’t wearing shoes.”

Murray laughed. “No, I guess he wasn’t. That’s a dealbreaker for me.”

“Murray, you don’t wear shoes either,” Bentley said.

“Exactly!” Murray went on, still laughing. “Somebody has to wear the shoes in the relationship!”

All three of them laughed, and couldn’t stop laughing until they reached the Chinese.

“Ah, the smell of sweet, sweet MSG,” Sly licked his lips as he set out the various cartons and bowls.

“This isn’t going to give me indigestion, is it?” Bentley asked skeptically, wrinkling his nose.

“No, no, I got your egg rolls and plain rice here,” Sly set out the food separately for Bentley before using a set of chopsticks to serve himself liberal amount of pork fried rice and vegetable lo mein, claiming one of the containers of scallion pancakes for himself.

“Man,” Murray grinned, slurping his hot and sour soup, “I forgot how good Chinese food actually is.”

“Right?!” Sly beamed. “Glad I thought of it. I haven’t had a good Chinese in months!”

“It’s delicious, I agree. Pass the wonton soup, Murray?” Bentley asked.

“What’re we watchin?” Sly asked between shoveling noodles into his mouth.

Murray blushed. “Are you guys gonna kill me if I say I wanna watch “Pitch Perfect” again?”

Sly swallowed noisily. “Nah, I like that one all right. It’s funny.”

“I’ve no objection,” Bentley said, taking off his glasses momentarily to clean them of the fog from his soup. “It’s date night, after all. You always pick the films for date night.”

“You guys still wanna call it date night?” Murray asked.

The gang had always jokingly held “date nights” for self care, movies, and video games. But that had been before Murray was officially out of the closet. His friends were straight. He thought they hadn’t had a date night in a while because his friends didn’t want to do that sort of this with him now that he was out as gay.

Sly leaned forward. “You okay, big guy?”

Murray sniffled. “I...I dunno, I thought you guys...didn’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Bentley asked.

“I’m gay,” Murray confessed. “I like guys.”

“So?” Sly twitched his tail in confusion. “You’re still my brother. My friend.” He waved his tail in Murray’s face, making the hippo sneeze. “In case I haven’t made it abundantly clear,” the raccoon snuggled up properly against Murray’s side, chittering quietly, “I love you, pal.”

“So do I,” Bentley affirmed. “And...not to be too blunt about it, but...it was pretty obvious to me that you weren’t straight. But,” he cleared his throat, smiling. “That never mattered to me. You’re still my brother. And I still love you.”

Murray rubbed the tears out of his eyes. “Thanks, guys.”

“Sure thing, Murray,” Sly replied, butting his head against Murray’s shoulder before sitting up to properly shovel more food down his throat.

“I’ll get the DVD,” Bentley abandoned his food momentarily and rolled his chair over to set up the TV. Once he was done, he took his food and rolled closer to the couch, so Murray could enjoy his comfort, too.

Murray smiled warmly, happily chowing down on Chinese food and shouting all the words to the songs at the top of his lungs.

That was the best part about being home, Murray decided as he laughed at Sly nearly choking on a wonton and Bentley snorting soup out his nose. Being with the people who loved you unconditionally.

#personal #sly cooper #sly cooper fanfic #it’ll be on ao3 soon i’m just lazy #this was such a cute and wholesome suggestion i love it #murray #bentley #blind date

20 notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 5 years ago

Text

I Take Thee

@shinsoubowl Week Day 1 (Prompt: Promise+”Thank you for everything.”)

A/N: Its Shinsoubowl Week yeyeye catch me having dark circles as big as our boy’s by the end of the week lol

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x reader

Description: You remembered the promises you made to each other in your vows as you waited for your husband to come home.

Word count: 1418

Playlist:

Lullaby//Simi

Whistle for the Choir//The Fratellis

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby//Cigarettes After Sex

I take thee to be my lawfully wedded husband,

It was a quiet night with nothing but your soft hums and the sound of water bubbling up in the kitchen as you waited for the kettle to bring to a boil. You had just moved into this apartment and everything in the kitchen was brand new, shining without a bit of dust and the signs of being used on it.

You could see your own reflection on the smooth surface of the kettle. The metal was silvery and shiny, very much so like the thin band on your finger. You were always so hyper aware of the ring on your finger ever since you started having an actual reason so keep it on all the time. There were times when you found yourself unconsciously rubbing it with your thumb while you tried to concentrate on something else. Somehow, feeling the metal that grew warm from the heat of your hand gave you a sense of comfort.

You lifted your hand and turn it around to see how the light shined on the ring, reflecting off of the silver band and the small piece of stone embedded into it in the most mesmerizing way.

...to have and to hold,

You let out a soft yelp as you felt the strong arms wrapping on your waist tightly and reflectively pulled back your left arm that was extended towards the light mere seconds ago.

You smiled when you heard the tired voice of your husband. “I’m back.”

Husband. That word still felt so foreign when it rolled off your tongue and it never failed to bring that fuzzy feeling to your chest.

“Welcome home.”

You smiled as you felt Hitoshi buried his head into the crook of your neck and you tilted your head slightly to the side to give him more space. You could feel the vibration on your skin as he let out a content hum and tightened his hold on your waist. You lifted your left hand to give soothing rubs to his neck while the other squeezed his hand ever so lightly.

“Rough day?” you asked, your thumb smoothing over the back of his hand in small circles.

“Yeah.” his head never left your neck as he speak, his voice muffled by your shoulder.

...from this day onward,

People told you to make the most out of your ‘honeymoon phase’ because after a year or two, the spark would be gone and everything you used to enjoy about marriage would soon get tiring. Whenever you heard that, you would only give a polite nod and smile. You couldn’t quite agree with what they said. After all, what’s so wrong about domesticity? Just because things started to fall into routine didn’t mean that it was not a wonderful life to live with someone you love.

Or perhaps it was the newly-wedded bliss clouding your rationality? You weren’t sure but at least for now, being in the kitchen in your love’s embrace seemed to be quite enough.

...for better, for worse,

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t show you enough love.”

“Oh?” you raised a brow, still staring at the kettle. From its shiny surface, you saw the reflection of yourself and Hitoshi with his face buried in your neck. “How so?”

“Well,” he lifted his head and you could see that he hadn’t even taken off his voice modificator, did he went straight to you after stepping into the door? “we just got married and moved in together but I’m barely here with you apart from the early mornings when I leave and late nights when I get back.”

You tried to turn around and look at him but his grip on you was too strong for you to even move. You sighed, “Toshi-”

“And don’t think that I didn’t notice how you always stay up way later than you used to so you could wait up for me.”

...for richer, for poorer,

You wanted to protest and say that it wasn’t true but you knew that there was no way you could lie in front of him. He was way too observant of your habits for you to pass it off as nothing but a change in lifestyle. Truth was, you did push back your normal bedtime to wait for him to come home from patrol each day. He never asked you for it but you just wanted to see him so badly after each long day. You would have been a lot more subtle about it if you had knew that it would bring him so much guilt.

The weight from you back lifted and he retreated his arms from your abdomen. You took the change to spin around with your back leaning on the kitchen counter and put his arms over your shoulder so he was at eye level to you. You pulled the mask off from his face and cup his cheek with one hand. Your smile grew wider as you felt him lean into your touch.

“I want to see you. After all,” you smirked, “can’t let such a handsome face gone to waste, can I? I married you for a reason, you know.”

You felt a wash of relieve as Hitoshi snickered. There were many times in your relationship where you had to assure him that you knew what you were signing up for with dating him and you accepted his lifestyle as a hero for what it was. You hated to see him being so guilt-ridden with apologies towards you when it was the last thing you wanted from him. He was your strength as much as you were his.

You squealed in shock and gripped onto his forearm as his lifted you onto the cold stone counter without warning. He trapped you in between his arms and you put a hand behind you flat on the counter to steady yourself.

“What was that for?” you chuckled at Hitoshi who looked at you with a smile of amusement.

He leaned forward until you could feel his hot breath fanning at your lips which still made your heart flutter even after years of being with this man. “Reminding you why you married me in the first place.”

You hand instinctively went to the back of his head when he pressed his lips against yours. Your back sat up straight as you felt a swipe of his tongue at your bottom lip and you gladly gave him the access he asked for. You hooked your legs around his waist as you kissed him back, feeling his soft hair between your fingers. One of his hands snuck up onto the side of your waist and lingered on the exposed skin from the edge of your shirt that was ridden up.

...in sickness and in health,

You pulled back, gently tugging his bottom lip with your teeth. He leaned forward while you backed away, frowning at the loss of contact and you laughed at out-of-character pout that was forming on his face.

“We both have work tomorrow morning.” he rolled his eyes and you playfully smacked his arm. “Go change, I’ll make you tea.”

“Only if you come to bed with me.” he said as the tip of his nose barely touched yours.

You grinned and gave him a small peck, “Since you asked so nicely."

...to love and to cherish,

“Thank you.” he mumbled as you handed him the mug before slipping under the covers yourself. You slid down and slung an arm around his waist while he sat against the head board. You looked up at him as he blew at the surface of the cup to cool the hot beverage before taking a sip, your heart filled with delight as he let out a satisfied sigh.

“Thank you for everything.” he said, his eyes fixed on you with so much adoration that it made you melt. You smiled and snuggled closer to him, closing your eyes at how nice it was to feel the warmth radiating from the person next to you.

“Don’t be silly.”

Because if anything, you loved everything you had even if it was the same day after day in the humble apartment you called ‘home’. And it was all given to you by this man who you loved with your whole heart and loved you back just as much.

...till death do us part.

#bnha imagines #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou imagine #shinsou hitoshi imagine #shinsoubowl week 2019 #shinsoubowl #bnha imagine #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

261 notes · View notes

emberphantom · 5 years ago

Note

Concept: Mac isn’t really in love with Dennis. He’s been faking the entire time as part of a bet/experiment as to whether or not he can make Dennis fall in love with him. As soon as Dennis confesses his feelings, the experiment will end and he’ll be debriefed. (Alternatively, everyone Dennis hasn’t known since school is actually an actor playing characters written by Dee and it’s all a Truman show situation to see how far they can push Dennis.)

I...wow. I totally think either scenario would COMPLETELY break Dennis. Dude is hanging by a very loose thread at all times to begin with but finding out most of everything in his life has been a complete lie? He'd snap. I mean look what happened in Broke Dee. That wasn't even supposed to be a prank on him and it fucked him up.

Okay and let's talk about the first one because that's super fucked up but I'm kinda living for it? It's definitely a role reversal for Mac and Dennis. Tbh I cannot see current Mac doing something like this but young Mac (s1-5), I'd buy it.

BUT there’s also no way Mac doesn’t fall in love with Dennis in the process and then feel guilty about the whole thing only to call it off once things get Too Real.

And whoops my hand slipped and I wrote another mini fic:

Him and Dee made the bet in high school because they thought it would be funny and Mac is all "Have you seen me? I could make any one fall in love with me." And Dee's all "Prove it."

Charlie doesn't know the full extent of it because I think he'd probably let it slip to Dennis.

So because of that, Mac has so be kind of subtle about it around the Gang. He turns it up a few notches when they're alone though. It takes forever. Like years. Because Dennis is stubborn and on a good day, has one (1) feeling.

Dennis graduates college, they get an apartment together. They buy the bar. Dee's wondering what the fuck is taking so long and Mac insists this is all part of his plan.

The Gay Bar Scheme sets Mac's progress back a bit, and he swears Dee did it on purpose to try to mess everything up. Stupid bitch.

It takes a while for Mac to get back on track. Dennis and Dee’s dad shows up one day out of the blue and actually sticks around. Mac starts banging Carmen. He sleeps with Dennis and and Dee’s mom which, he really thought would help move things along. It...did not.

The turning point Mac needs comes in the most insane and unexpected way. They get held hostage by the McPoyle’s in their own goddamn bar. It’s absolutely batshit.

There’s a real moment there where Mac thinks they’re not going to make it out alive. Mac tells Dennis he loves him, which Dee will argue later is against the rules of the bet, like watching Dennis’s sex tapes. Mac will tell her that there are no rules, that’s strictly for research purposes. He won’t tell her that, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about the bet.

Dennis never mentions it. Hell, he barely even acknowledged it when it happened. Mac starts to think God is punishing him for everything. He knows it’s wrong and kind of gay but..it’s a joke. And Mac’s pretty sure God can take a joke. He plans on explaining the whole thing to him when he gets up there anyway. He’s sure they’ll laugh about it.

But Mac starts to notice something that makes him think God does have a sense of humor after all: Dennis starts touching him. Like. A lot. Like, more than he’s pretty sure he ever has.

They’ve always been inseparable but now it feels...different. They hang out all the time and when they’re not physically together, they can’t go even an hour without texting one another.

Mac starts to realize his evil plan is finally working.

He sits back and let’s Dennis take the lead. Mac’s planted the seed and now he’s got to just wait for the flower to grow.

He pretends not to notice when Dennis starts inching closer to him on the couch during movie night. He lets Dennis pretend to fall asleep on his shoulder.

During Charlie’s musical, Mac starts to lay things on a little thicker. He acts like he doesn’t realize how this is all coming off--like it’s all just him playing the character. (The boner he popped on stage is irrelevant. His body was also in character.)

Mac realizes he wants to kiss Dennis in the middle of a strangers living room in a house they’re trying to flip for a profit. Well--no wait. It’s Dennis who wants to kiss him, obviously. There’s no other explanation for it. You don’t just cup someone’s face like that, call them ‘baby boy’ like that if you don’t want to play tonsil hockey.

They pretend to be a couple. “Partners in Real Estate and Partners in life.” “He’s my bottom.” Dennis won’t take his hands off him. Mac’s got him right where he wants him.

That night, Dennis kisses him.

(It’s about goddamn time.)

Mac doesn’t tell Dee. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet. He wins the bet when the words “I love you,” un-ironically come out of Dennis’s mouth.

It’s surprising how much doesn’t change between them. Aside from where Mac sleeps, it’s really not that different. He’s just getting laid more and it...it’s fucking great. Mac thinks it’s probably because of all that adrenaline he gets knowing he’s winning the bet.

Everything’s going great until Dee finally catches on.

It’s a Tuesday. They just wanted a bowl for popcorn. They didn’t need Dee to stick her giant nose all up in their business.

“It's funny 'cause I feel like you guys are two codependent losers who are so wrapped up in each other that it's hard for you to see how pathetic your lives are. It's like you're an old married couple.”

They laugh at it. But, Mac can see the wheels turning in Dennis’s head.

Dennis takes too long at the video store and that’s when shit hits the fan. Yeah Mac panicked but that’s only because he really REALLY wants to win this bet. And he can’t do that if Dennis is fucking some video store twink.

They argue. Dennis wants to be left alone. Mac wants to know where this is coming from (he knows but he wants to hear Dennis say it.)

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what Dee said and I do think maybe we are spending a little bit too much time together.”

Son of a bitch.

Mac leaves and Dennis let’s him go. On the way to Charlie’s, Mac calls Dee and tells her that’s cheating--she’s not allowed to interfere in the bet. They had a deal. She tells him she can do whatever the fuck she wants then hangs up because something about her stupid cat. Mac stopped listening.

He’s at Charlie’s for a few hours when Dennis calls. He’s a Dee’s apparently and Mac’s heart sinks. She’s going to fuck everything up beyond repair. There’s no way he’s going to win the bet now...not because he actually really misses Dennis.

Mac’s resigned himself to the fact it’s over. The bet, his relationship with Dennis. It’s done. Bye. See ya. But then Dee calls him, and she sounds pissed off and stressed the fuck out. She tell him to be at this restaurant at this time for a “date with a beautiful woman with giant breasts”. Well, Mac thinks, at least she knows how to apologize.

He gets there early and sits down at the table by himself. He’s nervous, which is unlike him. He’s a badass, he never gets nervous. Mac tells himself it’s because he’s meeting a really hot chick, not because he’s not sure if he’s ready for this thing with Dennis to be over. He orders a rum and coke. Then another. Because alcohol solves everything.

Dennis walks in with Dee and Mac has never been so close to committing murder. What the fuck is she trying to pull?

Mac doesn’t have time to ask. She leaves in a hurry, muttering something about getting a bird.

“She looks like a bird.”

And...fuck. Mac missed Dennis so much.

They make-up and make-out on the way home. They invite Charlie and Frank over to watch a movie and once the Grusome Twosome leaves and they’re finally alone again.

It’s dark, it’s late and it’s quiet. Dennis joins Mac on the couch after he’s tossed some beer bottle into recycling. He’s looking at him like he’s seeing Mac for the first time and Mac feels his throat tighten.

Dennis starts talking, and Mac starts to panic. He thought he’d be able to see this moment coming a mile away but he’s not prepared for this. Dennis is telling him how sorry he is for everything. How he let Dee get into his head. How stupid it was.

How he realized the reason why he panicked so much was “Because I think I’m in l-”

“Dennis.” Mac cuts him off as everything comes crashing down on him all at once. His heart’s pounding in his chest, ready to burst through his chest at any moment.

He should’ve called this off when he had the chance. Dee definitely gave him a few outs over the years but he said No. When he made that stupid bet all those years ago, so young and so high, he never thought it would end up like this.

Mac didn’t think he’d be the one to end up falling in love with his best friend.

But, if he let’s Dennis say it, then what? They become a real couple? They tell the Gang so Dee can lay everything all out on the table. Tell Dennis that everything was just a big joke--even though it stopped being one for Mac longer than he cared to admit. Mac could deny his part in the whole thing, but Dennis would believe him.

So Mac has to let him off the hook now, by crushing his best friend’s heart into dust.

“I think Dee was right,” Mac says finally. He can’t even look Dennis in the eye. “I can’t--I don’t think we should do this anymore...”

To drive the final nail into the coffin, he adds, “Plus, y’know I’m not even gay.”

Dennis doesn’t say anything for a long time. Mac shrugs and tells him “Sorry.” Then he gets up and goes to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He calls Dee to tell him the bet’s off. To his surprise, she let’s him off the hook. Tells him it was about time he admitted defeat after all these years. Mac calls her a bird and hangs up. That night he goes to sleep alone.

The next day at the bar, Dennis unveils the D.E.N.N.I.S. System. It’s a low blow, but Mac deserves it.

They don’t check in much anymore. On movie night, the stick to their corners of the couch. Dennis marries Maureen Ponderosa and Mac thinks that means he’s off the hook.

Until they’re wasted and dancing and giggling back in their apartment and it feels like old times except Dennis’s wife is there. And he turns but then says to Mac, “I don’t love you Maureen. I...I never loved you.”

And Mac thanks God he called off the bet.

#sunny asks #oh hey did i write another minific? yes i did #macdennis

29 notes · View notes

curiosity-killed · 4 years ago

Text

a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

Nerves tumble through him, all delighted energy racing in his veins in place of blood. His robes are new, a surprise from Wen Qing, Granny, and two of the aunties. Ink-dark clouds bloom over rich blue silk the color of the first bruising brush of night, a deep red robe rustling underneath. Running his fingertips down along the neat folds, he bites back a shaking smile. He’s going to meet his nephew. He’s going to see shijie and Jiang Cheng and he’s finally going to meet his first baby nephew. If excitement were an animal, his would be a hundred gilded canaries flocking and whirling behind his ribs. He’s inundated, suffused. Joy is such a vibrant rush that it blots out all else. Under the sun-white glow of it, he can think of little else but the excitement of the day. There is no room for his worries: whether the sects will ever let the Wens go in peace to a new home; how Uncle Four and Granny are going to get through the worst days of winter; what it means that the back of his hip keeps going funny lately, like the threads holding it in place are slowly unraveling. Sliding a small wooden box into his robes over his heart, he steps outside. Wen Qing’s waiting, clearly pretending she’s not by studying the lotus pond like it holds some secret message. By her side, Wen Ning holds a-Yuan on his lap, listening seriously as the boy chatters and waves one of his spinning toys through the air. Wen Qing straightens first. “How do I look?” Wei Wuxian asks with a grin.

Pursing her lips, Wen Qing studies him with a sharp eye and her hands on her hips. “Like a nuisance,” she says and reaches over to tug a strand of hair into place. “Hey!” Wei Wuxian yelps, only a little faked. Wen Qing pulls back to fold her hands at her waist. Her expression goes a little soft, the way it sometimes does when she looks over all of them gathered for dinner in the firelight. Wen Ning has stood and come to stand at her shoulder now, and he manages a tremulous smile. He’s worked hard over this year, to get back his emotions. He can’t blush or cry anymore, but he’s gotten the hang of inflection again, and he can pull up these little smiles. In another year or two, perhaps, he’ll be able to grin and laugh once more. “Behave for your sister,” Wen Qing says and holds out a small pouch of silver, “and pick out something nice for your nephew.” He can’t help the way his smile goes soft and a little sappy. Wen Qing looks skyward as if for patience, but before either can say more, there’s an insistent tug on his skirts. “Xian-gege,” a-Yuan says, frowning like a Yunmeng thunderstorm, “why do you have to go to the baby?” His voice is so petulant, so full of little kid frustration with the wide world. Wei Wuxian fights back a laugh. “Ah, a-Yuan, don’t you want to meet my shijie’s baby?” he asks. “He can be your little cousin a-Ling.” “Don’t want a little cousin,” a-Yuan pouts. “Xian-gege promised older brothers and sisters.” He pauses and tilts his head to look up at Wei Wuxian sideways through his lashes, rubbing his nose with one finger. It is a preposterous expression on a four-year-old face, and Wei Wuxian has to bite his lips to keep in his laughter. “Maybe we can sell him with the radishes?” His voice is so hopeful, the question so absurd — Wei Wuxian lets his laughter peal out of him and swoops down to scoop him up in his arms. His back twinges, briefly, but he ignores it. A-Yuan’s eyes brighten as if he thinks he’s getting his way. “A-Yuan, so cruel!” he scolds, delighted. “How could we sell my very first nephew?” “We could trade him,” a-Yuan suggests solemnly, “and plant a big brother instead.” It’s too cute; too much happiness is flooding him all at once, and Wei Wuxian squeezes him close even as he pinches his cheek. “Ai, truly the son of the dread Yiling laozu,” he teases before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “And so cute!” Shaking her head, Wen Qing tries to stifle a smile, but it’s still there in the corners of her mouth as she reaches out and plucks a-Yuan from his arms. He looks briefly disappointed, but he laughs in surprise when Wei Wuxian chucks his chin gently and ruffles his hair. “Go on,” Wen Qing says, nodding toward the path down the mountain. “You don’t want to be late.” Grinning, Wei Wuxian waves an idle goodbye as he starts down the trail with Wen Ning at his side. Granny and Auntie Three tell him to take care when they pass, and Uncle Six wishes them safe travels as he returns from gathering water. Wei Wuxian could nearly skip all the way to Lanling with the way joy bubbles effervescent in his veins, but he settles for spinning Chenqing between his fingers and humming along to a song he half-remembers from childhood. They’ve left with enough time to fly to and from Lanling twice with rest on either end, but then, Wei Wuxian’s not flying anywhere. Suibian sits propped on a shelf in his cave, where it’s lain since they arrived. He cleans the blade as he has to, out of respect to the spirit that still thrums through it and to the bond he once shared with the sword, but otherwise, he pretends he cannot see it lying there. He doesn’t regret it. There is no world in which he could ever wish he’d made another choice, but—

He’d told Wen Qing he understood the consequences. That he knew the risks and the weight of giving up his golden core. He would forever be mediocre, destined to live out a shorter life and to never fulfill the great dreams he’d had in his adolescence. Such broad declarations could not fathom the painful prick of everyday loss. He no longer reaches for spiritual energy that isn’t there, but sometimes he dreams, and he still knows that familiar river-rush song of power at his center. It still feels right, still feels like the song his soul has known since he was twelve and he felt a seed of something strong and glowing deep within him. He wakes bereft, empty-handed, hollowed. It’s not even the dreams he misses most — those grand heroics were always stories, and his home has been in Lotus Pier alongside his duty for most of his remembered life. It’s the little things, the things he had taken for granted: being able to help when someone was ill or injured, being able to soar up on Suibian and see the tumbling world splayed out before him. He will never regret his choice. If anything, he’s been proven right over and over in how Jiang Cheng has led Yunmeng Jiang through the war and into this new reconstruction. Lotus Pier needed its leader, and Jiang Cheng has always been destined for that mantle. So, no, he will never regret his decision. But, sometimes, he grieves. It’s a selfish sorrow, to lie with his hand flat on his chest in the night-quiet and feel the resounding hollowness echo through him. There’s still spiritual energy lingering in him, enough to power a talisman or a weak spell, but it diminishes day by day, eaten away by the resentment hooking claws into his bones. Guilt does its best to drown the grief. He has no right to feel sorrow for a sacrifice willingly made. If he does not regret the decision, what reason is there for hurt? He should just be able to set it aside and move forward, onward. He tries. It works most days. They stop in Yiling to pick up a token with the money Wen Qing sent, and Wei Wuxian eyes the whole supply, running his fingers along the jade, weighing the heft of them in his palm. It’s only adornment, a small trinket to accompany his real gift, but he wants it to be perfect, too. Outside, Wen Ning waits patiently. He’s dressed in his best as well, neat black robes that don’t mark him as any sect but are carefully pleated and tied. Wei Wuxian grins and holds out the tassel for examination. “What do you think?” he asks. “It is very pretty, Master Wei,” Wen Ning affirms. “Is this your gift for young Jin Rulan?” Wei Wuxian scoffs and reaches into the folds of his robe to pull out the lacquered box. As if he would give his nephew something so small as a tassel and say that was sufficient. He passes the box to Wen Ning, who cradles it in his hands like a bird’s egg. Wei Wuxian waits, trying carefully not to preen, as he lifts the lid to examine the gift. “It’s warded,” he blurts out anyway, because he’s never been very good at bottling up excitement. “Low level ghosts and monsters won’t be able to come near him as long as my nephew wears it.” “I can feel it,” Wen Ning says, his hand hovering carefully away from the beads. The bracelet has taken hours of work and planning, the kind of mental challenge that is at once exhilarating and exhausting; he loves the strain of it, the puzzle in how to determine the right characters and imbue it with the proper strength, but it also required more planning and detail work than comes naturally. He can’t count the number of times he checked and re-checked his work to make sure he didn’t miss something tiny and vital. Wen Ning moves to touch the bracelet, and panic flashes through Wei Wuxian as he half-lunges to stop him. “Ah don’t touch it!” he yelps. He manages to reign himself back in as Wen Ning stops short and turns to him with something like alarm. “I’m not sure what it’ll do.” He tries not to wince as he says it; he hadn’t wanted to point it out at all. Despite his placid face, Wen Ning’s shoulders stoop a little, and Wei Wuxian’s heart squeezes painfully. He shouldn’t have to worry about this, shouldn’t have to think about how he’s been made into a monster. It’s not his fault, not something he had any say in, and guilt sours deep in Wei Wuxian’s belly at the way that he still has to carry the burden even when it was forced upon him in the first place. “Come on,” Wei Wuxian says, clapping Wen Ning on the shoulder once the box is stowed once more. He gives a smile of reassurance, apology, and Wen Ning quirks up his lips in his own smile. “Of course, Wei-gongzi,” he says. It’s a long walk to Koi Tower. Wei Wuxian almost wishes they had chosen to split up the trip between two days, but it’s not like they would have been able to afford an inn and a bath if they had. He spends the walk teasing Wen Ning and chattering. Wen Ning’s still a little demure, but he’s gotten better at teasing and understanding when Wei Wuxian is joking over the year. It’s nice in a way few things are anymore; Wen Ning knows, like Wen Qing, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to pretend around him. He cradled Wei Wuxian’s head as his sister pulled out the thrumming golden core at his heart, kept his shoulders pinned to the ground as he screamed. He understands in a way shijie or Jiang Cheng or Lan Zhan never can. They have done terrible violence to each other for the sake of their siblings, and they can laugh and talk and tease in the sunlight. It’s the kind of light that falls through cracks in ancient ruins, that illuminates and softens the ragged edges of history. They plan to pause and rest on the far side of Qiongqi Pass, Wen Ning’s enforcement of his sister’s order. “It would make Lady Jiang upset if you overexerted yourself before the celebrations,” Wen Ning says. That is certainly not how Wen Qing phrased it. Wei Wuxian accepts it with only a little complaining, to keep up appearances. It can’t get out that he can be persuaded so easily after all; his reputation would never survive.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #untamed fic #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #my writing #and the sads being

17 notes · View notes

narilgc · 5 years ago

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . but i don’t regret the thing that i did !! hello all, i’ve been keeping this under wraps for the past few days but on a whim i’ve decided to bring on my second ( and last, i promise ) muse for the ride !! with that being said, it is jada here, max’s mun, but this time i’m presenting to you the wonderful im nari !! she was my initial idea before max, but i loved her too much to get rid of her !! i’m so excited for her to be here and i really hope she’s well received as well !! i’ve been slow on his acc for the past few days, and she’s the reason why, but now that i’ve gotten my life ( mostly ) together & things are running just fine again !! anyways, her profile’s here, and below you can find some general trivia on her as well as connection ideas !! oh, and like this to plot !

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 :

from damyang, south korea !! a v small agricultural town & was born into humble beginnings - a seamstress for a mom, and her dad a farmer !! so she lived on a small farm when she was younger and was raised with pigs, cows, and goats as pets !

she helped around the farm her whole time she lived home, so she has a lot of life skills t & knows all about caring for animals and tending the farm !

they weren’t well off by any means - they had a small income to spread thin between all those people - but they made it work !! she never felt truly slighted as she knew their situation, in fact in her own way, she was spoiled in the best way she could be given their predicament.

raised in a household full of boys - she’s the youngest w a family of 6 loud, rowdy boys.

so in a way she’s more of a tomboy, used to roughhousing and all her sibling’s antics !! she’s also used to doing a lot of heavy lifting around the farm so has surprising strength for her size.

on the other hand, being the youngest & only daughter has upped the girliness !! she’s used to being babied so knows all about acting cute & her mom was always using her as an experiment for all her clothes !! was raised on handmade dresses her mom made in all sorts of intricate patterns & loved it !!

has been an actress in the making for a g e s !!! it all started when she was a really young kid, her mom would let her watch the tv in the tailor shop so she’d have something to do while her mom was at work !!

so there was this drama “a rolling hills romance” ( which i TOTALLY made up lmao !! ) that she absolutely loooved !! it was about a farm romance and was one of the only ones she saw that wasn’t taking place in the city !! it just got her in love with acting in general though, she’d eventually memorize scenes from all the dramas she’d watch and recite them out of the blue !!!

eventually it got her into theatre acting, which was her favorite !! she started watching broadway shows from abroad, memorizing the songs even though she didn’t always know what they were saying. but she just loooved the whole thing, and when she was in middle school she joined her school’s theatre department !

this is where the majority of her english skills came into play - she would memorize the lyrics, and though she didn’t really know what they were saying after a while she began to understand some words !! so while her pronunciation is pretty good from mimicking actors, she lacks the vocab to really use it !!

so she’s really hesitant to speak in english, because if people hear her speak they think she’s a lot more fluent than she is & it lands her in awkward situations !! so she mainly just ... doesn’t do that lol !!

i can’t believe i forgot this when i first wrote this !! this is a very vital part of her character omg !! her first “acting debut” if you could call it that was for a chocolate commercial when she was 8 !! basically she was in this christmas commercial for peppermint chocolates that got on tv and everyone in her town went crazy !! she like goes and delivers these chocolates while singing jingle bells and it’s wholesome and cute and swet !! it wasn’t that big at all lol but for their small town it was, and to them she’s a sort of small celebrity for it !! i’m sure some people might remember the commercial but notlike .... her yk ?? because that was her first and last role for a while lol !!

anyways !! she’s always been self-conscious of her looks - she felt like she wasn’t pretty enough, and limited her confidence. so at 16 she got 2 part-time jobs to begin saving up money, and at 17 she went to seoul to get a nose job & jaw reduction surgery.

and things seemed to be great after that !! she was confident, gaining more friends, but the real excitement came when her mom read online about an audition for legacy and jokingly asked if she wanted to do it.

legacy had never even be on her radar !! she had always heard her friends talk about them for idols, but she had never thought of them as a company that accepted actresses. upon reading though, she was hooked !! she begged her parents, and they originally rejected the idea because they thought it was one of her phases. however, after much persuasion, they allowed her to attend auditions !!

she never expected to get in, she wanted to do it more as an experience than anything. but to say it was a shock was an understatement !! but she was so so incredibly happy.

had a hard time adjusting initially - she was only 17, and almost right after getting there she had to spend her birthday alone since she hadn’t made any friends yet. and although she’s naturally outgoing, it was really hard for her to be social at first because she was surrounded by so many more people than she was used to !!

for the past few years nari’s been doing general idol training, though that’s about to change !! she’s significantly improved her dance skills ( which were nearly nonexistent prior to training ) & gotten a lot better at her singing !! but her heart’s still deep into acting, and she knows that she wants to do that as well as some modeling !

she still suffers a lot with her self confidence, and there’s a lot of pressure for her to do well ! in school, because she’s the first of her family to go to university, and as a trainee, because she’s risked so much for it & doesn’t want to disappoint since her family has v high expectations for her !

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 :

a little lovebug !! she’s literally so loving and accepting of everyone - definitely, someone you can come to talk out any issues, she listens & provides support, free of any judgement !! also v keen on skinship i apologize in advance

she’s come out of her shell a lot since she got to seoul, but she’s still a little shy if she doesn’t know you well or is put in a situation w a lot of people !! pls be patient with her ^^

like max, she’s got a lot of energy in that little body !! but she actually has adhd so a lot of it isn’t really by choice. it frustrates her a lot because it limits her focus & has the tendency to make her restless. it was worse when she was younger, but has gotten better as she’s gotten older and she takes medicine to keep everything in check.

she’s also got v low self-confidence, she’s never been satisfied with herself and constantly wants to get better !! despite the surgeries, she’s still got a lot of insecurities both physically and not, but keeps them bottled up a lot bc she doesn’t want to burden others !! ( i want to shake her !! ) bc of that, she takes both criticism & compliments very seriously, she’ll turn all red if someone gives her the smallest compliment but will also overanalyze & judge herself if she gets critiqued.

in fact her surgery’s almost made her more self-conscious, as she now feels that all the opportunities granted to her are because of her looks post-surgery. the worst insult she could get was she’s only succeeding because of her looks, because she’s worked so hard on her skills and she wants them to be what takes her forward, not something she had to pay to get.

despite that, she’s the true definition of a happy virus !! on the outside, she’s almost always smiling, and when all the other stuff doesn’t get in the way, she is on the inside too !! always trying to look on the optimistic side & give people a fresh perspective !

on that note she’s v childish, and sometimes she has to remind herself w younger trainees coming in she’s being seen as more of an example and needs to be ~serious~!!

the duality is real !! in performances, sad / angry scenes are actually her specialty, and right after she’ll just spring up and smile like what’s up guys !!! a lil creepy when she goes from sobbing to giggling so she’s learned to transition a little better lmao !!

she always wanted to be a youtuber, but never got the chance, and by the time she joined legacy she wasn’t allowed to have an account. so now she has these little vlogs she does to send her parents ! they’re mainly of her getting ready, hanging out with friends, and practicing ( all out of training hours, ofc ) so she can often be found seemingly talking to herself, even though she’s really recording videos !!

though being an idol wasn’t her initial dream, she adores the music. her love for the kpop genre has made the last few years more bearable, and girl crush concepts are her absolute favorite !! she’s been religiously keeping up w future dreams like she’s still just a fan back at home, and you’ll catch her humming all around the company building !!

in fact, prior to joining legacy, she had a fan blog for all her faves where she would provide commentary called ri raves !! it was ... a sight !!

she’s pansexual, and leaning towards girls !! it’s something she’s really shy about sharing bc of the fear of judgment, but if she tells you know you have all her trust !!

a little spoiled tbh !! she’s got the youngest child syndrome BAD, and since she was the only girl she’s used to things being done for her !! not in the bratty way, it’s just made her a little lazy and she loooooves attention and being doted on.

don’t let her appearance fool you though !! she’s got surprising strength ... strong woman do bong soon’s not her favorite show for no reason !!! all those years of defending herself from her brothers’ teasing had to come in handy, you know ?? we’ve got a black belt in hapkido here folks !!

definition of a theatre kid, starts bursting out into songs she loves out of nowhere omg it’s embarrassing ?? also overreacts about everything omg the world is on fire according to her !! she’s gotta faint dramatically !!!

she’s got the jeolla-do dialect, and prior to working on her standard dialect it was veeery prominent ! it makes her say a lot of words differently than someone from seoul might, and after realizing she was one of the only ones with it she’s been trying to make her speech sound more like standard korean nowadays.

she’s taken up sewing from her mom, and especially loves embroidery !! so she always loves upcycling & spicing her outfits up !!

definitely has a unique fashion sense because of it - in addition to that she’s very frugal, and favors thrifted clothing !! she’s got a mix of vintage, chic, and artsy style !

a rule follower !! veeery unlike max, she tends to stick to the rules out of fear of what will happen if she doesn’t, because she has way too much on the line to quit now !

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :

acting buddies ?? i know there aren’t too many, but even if that’s not your muse’s preferred career path, any muses who have a passion for theatre are welcomed as well !!

someone who unlike her, is v wild and lives on the crazier side !! she’s constantly going into a responsible panic when they’re around and they’re always trying to get her to loosen up !!

someone who co-stars in her little vlogs to her family !! hey, if you can’t be youtubers for real you might as well pretend, right ??

someone who made her adjustment to seoul easier as she transitioned from country to city life !! they’ve lived in seoul for a long time / their whole life and know all the best spots to show her !!

someone who’s clothing she likes to spice up, she’s always embroidering or adding pattern to their clothes to give their outfit a little flair !

someone who knows her past her happy side, who she’s got on speed dial whenever she’s feeling down and needs someone to talk to, and vice versa !!

someone who she came out too, be it on purpose or by accident, and it’s caused her to grow really attached to them bc it’s one of the most personal things about her !

a girl she’s got a crush on but is terrified to tell !!! like yes you’re pretty .... but these things are never easy !!! she’s gonna tell you .... eventually !!

and ofc - exes, flirtationships, summer loves, anything of the sort !

someone she lowkey fangirls over ?? she still hasn’t accepted the fact that she & the other trainees are kinda on the same level, someone she’s kind of became a fan of and can’t really function around them ??

by some crazy chance, this person has come across her old kpop fan blog at one time or another and won’t !!! let !!! her !!! live !!! it !!! down !!! will you accept her bribe and swear to never bring it up again ??? please ???

someone she doesn’t like ??? this is v rare but ... for one reason or another, she can’t stand them and transforms to a completely diff person around them !!

someone who made the mistake of teasing her a little too much or insulted her so much that she just straight-up tries to take them down !!! v unexpectedly !! bonus if it’s someone way out of her fighting capabilities !!

more ideas coming when i create an official plots page !!

#( nari & mun ! )#so late ... i apologize o.o #i will rb tomm !!#& i will be getting to all your lovely mssgs ty !!

9 notes · View notes

alltheangstmygifttoyou · 4 years ago

Text

Yall remember awhile back when I said I made a new Harry Potter OC? Well this is her! I haven't had time to color her but I at least you’ll have an idea of what she looks like and her story. I'm past 50,000 words on it but only on chapter 8 (chapter 7 is 20,000 words because I really was trying to skim through five years as fast as possible) but I'm working on it and I'm really excited to get to a point where I can start posting it so people can read it. Since it's my main project right now I'll probably give it its own page on my tumblr soon. Anyway under the cut enjoy some information on Morgan Weasley!

So I got the ages of the Weasley family wrong in this fanfiction so it’s an AU now because I don’t want to change them. So. In her story she is the first girl of the Weasley clan and was born a year after Percy. She gets along with all of her siblings although the twins drive her a bit nuts but she gets along best with Percy until he disowns the family. She’s a shy girl but also a very big book worm. She’s almost sorted into Ravenclaw but the hat decides in the end to go with Gryffendor (I really hope I spelled those right but I don’t want to check google). In her school year she becomes a prefect and head girl. She’s very much interested in magical research, she likes coming up with new spells. But she also is very much interested in muggles like her father, unlike her father she digs into muggle science and compares it with magic. She works for the ministry in the research department until the whole thing goes down between the ministry and her father and she joins the order of the phoenix and takes a small research job somewhere else in London. She never moves out of the Burrow until her family does (she likes being close to home).

You might be wondering why I’m summarizing her entire life, and the reason for that is, is because none of that is really shown in the story, just mentioned. Because in this story Harry Potter died during the battle of Hogwarts and the war continued on for years. Morgan working with Percy creates a spell to send her mind and soul back in time to when she was six years old, and she has to live her entire life again with all the memories of what happened before. It’s a time travel fic what can I say? I love them.

More on Morgan. Morgan has very curly, bushy, red hair that she lets grow out to her waist. The drawings pictured above are her at age fourteen to sixteen the second time through. She is pale and covered in freckles everywhere. The first time through her life she was an average weight and her face retained it’s baby fat but the second time through she has struggles with eating and ends up skinnier than really healthy (Molly Weasley does her best to rectify this but it’s hard). She has a hook nose from it being broken quite a few times her second time around. Both times around she has a scar on her chin where she cut it open when she was four from falling down the stairs. The second time around she has constant bags under her eyes from trouble sleeping. Her style changes as well. The first time around she mostly, when given the choice, wore lighter clothes and lots of sweaters. Due to an incident that happened she starts wearing long sleeves all the time. When she’s at home though a lot of her modesty drops and she’s in tank tops shorts. The second time around Morgan mostly sticks to dark clothes, long sleeves, and sweaters all the time. She likes to wear scarves and hats. She worries a lot about being cold and frostbite. If she has a chance she’ll wear layers. This does not change whether she is near her family or not.

Personality wise there are some differences between her first time through and her second time through, and you don’t get to hear much about her first time through so I thought it’d be neat to compare them here. Morgan the first time through like I said is shy, she has social anxiety and is very nervous about being away from home. She gets bullied and doesn’t stand up for herself because she doesn’t want to cause conflict or get in trouble. Rules are very important for her and they’re how she grounds herself. It gets on people’s nerves. (Think Percy, but less vocal about how other people should act.) However she is very much a mother hen and worries over all of her siblings a lot. They tend to see her as someone very meek and need of protecting. Morgan figures out in her later years of Hogwarts the first time through that she is very much indeed a lesbian but doesn’t act on this knowledge because she is worried about her family’s reaction. She doesn’t take a lot of risks and doesn’t like to lead. The second time through things change. Morgan is much more aggressive though she tries not to be. She cares very little for the rules (imagine going from being on the run in a war to being told you have to be in bed by eight, personally I would be like: no???) and she has a strong distaste for the Ministry and doesn’t particularly care about laws either. She will stand up for herself when bullied (unless it’s the twins, then she normally just smiles) and will stand up for others if they’re being bullied. She defiantly takes a more violent approach to things than she used to and she’s much more independent than she was before preferring to handle problems on her own. If she was a mother hen before she is now a hundred times worse and has the biggest death glare if you give her siblings the wrong look (this also goes for her friends and adopted family aka Harry and Hermione). She is much more open to conflict and often invites it with her open attitude to her more “abnormal” parts of her life (aka she’s gay, she’s mentally ill, ect. Children are assholes).

This story is checking out to be hella long (I’m writing chapter eight and I still haven’t gotten to her first year at Hogwarts but I will before this chapter ends!) but I’ve really fallen in love with her character and the Weasely family all over again. Reading the story you might think my favorite sibling is Bill but it’s really Percy, I fucking love Percy and I would die for him. I’ve got a couple endings in mind and a lot of plot to get through and I can’t wait to share it with you. If there’s anything you want to know about Morgan send me an ask! I’ll link the story when I start posting, which will be after I finish chapter ten. I’m really excited!! x3

#morgan weasley #why is that already a tag?#writeblr #art #tw harry potter #harry potter oc

1 note · View note

daysswithyou · 5 years ago

Text

Fallen Chapter 6: Showtime

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Genre: angst, fake dating, high school romance, fluff, romance

-----

You and Brian keep to the deal....fairly...well. You let out a deep sigh once you finish typing your comment on his latest Instagram post, one that was filled with sickeningly sweet hearts and terms of endearment. You dropped your phone on the table with a thud, burying your head in your hands as your fingers and toes curled in disgust at the ridiculous thing that you were doing. You hated having to play pretend, but this was the best plan so far.

Things were still awkward between the both of you; after all, you two were still strangers. Hence, the first part of his brilliant plan that did not involve much skinship as you both tried to ease into one another was to take proof shots of your “relationship”. Selfies together, pictures of both of you holding hands. Shots like these soon went up all over both your social media feeds, and the growing number of likes with each successive post gave both of you some reassurance that people were buying into your love story. To further convince them, Brian insisted that both of you left comments on each other’s posts which thus led you to this sorry state.

All of this might be enough for a short while, but you knew that onlookers would be disillusioned by the posts, and that soon, you would have to do more to convince people of the authenticity of your relationship.

---

Heading into the washroom to freshen up, you entered only to have three pairs of eyes focused on you, their eyes never leaving your figure until you’re behind the safety of the stall walls. You wait in bated breath for the unnecessary comments that were sure to come – and as usual, you were not surprised by what you heard.

“Rachel Hwang and Brian Kang… do you think they’re real?”

“Well… the photos on their social media are kind of cute, but I haven’t seen them in public yet so I’m not totally convinced.”

“Come on, the both of you. Their whole relationship is obviously a lie. Anyone can fake a photo; but I’ll give them credit for impressive Photoshop skills. It almost looks real. Besides… this is all happening after both of them got dumped by their exes. All too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

You bunch up the ends of your school skirt in frustration, knowing that the effectiveness of the initial plan has worn off. Everything was happening as you knew it would and Brian and you would have to come up with a new plan to be more convincing to the general public. Keeping up with this act will only make both of you seem silly – you needed something more.

Stepping out of the cubicle, you kept your face straight, showing that you were clearly unfazed by their comments. The conversation went hush in your presence, the three girls leaving silently after sending one last glance in your direction. Wringing your hands dry from the water, you quickly formulated a plan in your head, and you could only hope that Brian would know how to play along with you.

Exiting the washroom, you turned to head back to class, only to come face to face with Brian Kang. Or to be more exact, his chest. You instinctively took a step back due to the close proximity. Despite the time spent with one another, you were still not used to being around him. His eyes were also blown wide at the sudden encounter, a sure sign that he too, was still uncomfortable around you.

“Oh…Rachel…you’re here.”

His voice was small, and the tone was clipped.

Aish Brian Kang… what kind of reaction is this?

Glancing over his shoulder, you could see the three girls from before turning over to look at the both of you as they sniggered under their breath. Their eyes scanned you from top to bottom, seeming to laugh at your “boyfriend’s” lacklustre response towards you.

I can’t let them have the last laugh. I have to be convincing.

“Brian, let’s go have lunch together later ok? What are you craving?”

Stepping forward, you quickly laced your fingers with his. Using your interlocked fingers as leverage, you raised on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, placing a quick peck on his cheek bone. Brian eyes grow two times wider at your sudden action, his eyes looking straight at yours seeming to ask the question: What was that for?

You give his hand a light squeeze, code for: We need to be more convincing in public, play along. You smiled sweetly at the end to prove your point, desperately hoping that he’ll get the hint. You knew that Brian Kang got the hint when he smiles sweetly at you; the one where his lips pull back completely to show his teeth and his eyes turn into crescents. Bringing your intertwined hands to his lips, Brian made sure that the sound of him kissing your hand was extra loud. Another quick glance over his shoulder; and you were certain that that both of you now had the attention of the three girls from before. Their eyes kept shifting over to you, trying to be subtle but not quite working out.

Great. We got them. Let’s keep up the show Brian Kang, don’t mess up.

On cue, Brian spins you around so that the two of you are now facing the girls, hooking an arm around your shoulders around you naturally. Pulling you closer by your shoulder, he presses a long kiss to your cheek before connecting his forehead to your temple.

“Aigoo~ is my baby worrying about my meals? I eat my meals on time, and I eat anything. You know that.”

“Ok, then I’ll decide your lunch menu for you later.”

“Sure~”

As you turn the corner to head to the canteen, you hear the girls scoffing behind you – and you know that you have succeeded.

“I did well, didn’t I?”

“Well done Brian Kang, let’s keep this up. Show isn’t over.”

---

That was how you found yourself sharing a table during lunch breaks with Brian Kang and his friends from that day onwards. It was tough trying to get Esther to agree initially but having Jae there made things much easier. He’s easy to talk to, and they share common interests, which earned Jae bonus points for Jae in Esther’s handbook of friends. Today too, they’re having a heated debate on who’s a better player in League of Legends – you guess that’s just how the both of them make friends.

“Come on, I’m older. I’m definitely the better player with more experience.”

Esther snorts, one that sounds like a pig’s before retorting,

“Yea right. Being older also means you’re weaker Jae. Be careful when you play, the brittle bones in your fingers might break.”

“You did not!”

You shake my head as you turn your attention away from the both of them, you can’t stand watching the two of them argue for the next 20 minutes. Scanning the table, you quietly observe the mix of mismatched people at the table.

Jae and Esther were bickering at a corner – that’s a given. Sungjin has his eyes glued to his phone screen, observing the team’s last friendly match against the neighbouring Yongsan High School. He’s meticulously taking down notes on each member’s performance, having a list of merits, demerits and training methods for them to work on their weaker techniques. Meticulous, hardworking and dedicated Sungjin, there’s a reason why he’s the captain and you can see why. Over on the other side, Wonpil is enthusiastically explaining the rules of the basketball game to Dowoon, his hand gestures wide as his facial expression tell another story on their own. Wonpil is always so bright and ready to lend a helping hand, you’re sure Dowoon will be in good hands under his guidance. Your gaze lingers on Dowoon a little longer, observing the way the young freshmen has his head bowed in concentration, nodding along to every point that Wonpil makes. He looks up for a millisecond and catches your eye. You give him a reassuring smile, encouraging him as he tries to keep up with Wonpil’s pace. He gives you a small smile in return, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.

Ah sweet Dowoon – you have a soft spot for him. He’s in your Biology class, which makes him the person you see the most amongst all of them and consequently the one you’re most comfortable with as well. Sometimes you chance upon him feeding the strays that come through the broken fence on the north side of the school and you find yourself touched by his kind gestures towards those furry friends. There’s definitely something special about Dowoon… maybe you two could even become friends one day. (But you’ll have to break through his shy exterior first)

Brian is…

You didn’t have time to contemplate on Brian when you hear the unmistakable raucous laughter reach your ears. It has to be Im Jaebum – no doubt. Brian stiffens beside you, casually placing a hand on the back of your seat. He’s silently staking his claim on you, and that gives you enough affirmation that Ayeon is also in tow. They take a seat at the table right in front of yours, their eyes never leaving the two of you even after they sat down. It was a clear provocation, and Brian immediately began his counterattack.

Shifting the hand behind you to your waist, he pulls you closer to him, your thighs now touching one another’s. He dips his head again to give you a kiss on the cheek, and perhaps Jaebum’s eyes grow a shade darker.

“Play along Rachel, now’s the time to show off.”

“I don’t need to be told twice Brian Kang.”

As his lips leaves your cheek, he smiles at you, signalling the start of your little show.

“Babe, I’m still hungry!”

“You big baby, here, have my kimbap.”

You pinch his nose bridge lightly to make the act more believable, and he responds by giving you a cute nose scrunch.

“Thank you~”

Picking up two rolls at once, he slides them into his mouth easily but as he chews, he frowns.

“This doesn’t taste nice… maybe if you fed me it’ll be better.”

Your insides curl at the thought of feeding a fully-grown man food, but you hide your grimace behind a laugh. Taking the chopsticks from his hand, you took the last roll from the box and held it in front of his mouth, hoping he would quickly eat the roll so this could end. Yet, Brian Kang always seems to have other plans.

Wrapping his hand around yours, he guides your hand to place the roll inside his mouth, staring at you with love the entire while as he chewed. From your peripheral vision, you see Jaebum stabbing his food, his mouth no longer moving. He’s lost his appetite, and you bask in the glory of this small victory. You eventually want to completely crush him, but for now, ruining his day in any small manner would suffice too. Ayeon doesn’t look too good either, the colour has drained from her face.

“Indeed, it’s way better when you feed me Rachel. This tastes the best.”

“Glad you’re eating well Brian.”

You caress the side of his face, and Brian catches on immediately. Leaning forward to give you a quick peck, you meet him halfway, hoping that you taking the initiative might be the first step to ensuring that people accept your relationship to be true and most importantly, piss off Im Jaebum. Sure enough, they stand from their seats almost immediately, storming their way out of the canteen.

You’re still thrown off sometimes by Brian Kang’s bold public display of affections, but if tolerating it means that you get to see Im Jaebum all riled up, it’s worth the risk.

43 notes · View notes