#spoiler: neither of these will break the ice but good try. maybe in the next life or in a modern AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pradaksj · 4 years ago

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Safety Net || part two (final). (m.)

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together.

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶ enemies to friends, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, pining, smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series.

❧ word count ⟶ 16,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, character death (non-major), smut which includes ... passionate to rough sex, oral (female receiving), penetration, fingering, unprotected sex (please have sex responsibly lol).

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n ⟶ I am still fairly new to writing smut so sorry if it doesn’t meet your expectations 😭 also to all my people who don’t like smut “*” signals where you can stop reading as the smut is really just a bonus scene at the end. and remember dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple = present

01 | 02 (final)

“God were we dramatic,” you laugh, glad that the recollection of your big fight with Jungkook was something that could by now be laughed at rather than seen as something you’d dearly regret, “Don’t you think?” you ask Jungkook, concern immediately washing over you once you see the sad look on his face, “Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares blankly at the lake in front of him, surprised at the resurgence of the same heavy feeling in chest he had felt several months before, “Did I—Did I say something wrong?” you worry that you’ve hurt his feelings, that being one of, if not the, last thing you wanted to do tonight.

Quietly he nods his head no, “I just—” he struggles to voice his thoughts, “I was—” he shakes his head and you grab his hand in comfort, giving him a small smile.

“Hey,” you giggle, “what happened is in the past,” you reassure.

“I know but—” he sighs, pushing his hair back with his other hand, “I just still feel bad, you know? I mean we went a whole month without talking…. practically hating one another…”

August 2019.

It had been about a month since your explosive argument with Jungkook, and despite living together... the two of you had never been so far apart. Not only were you not on speaking terms, but it was as if neither of you existed in each other's proper world, completely avoiding each other at all costs.

One would think that because you two lived with one another, you’d be bound to have some kind of awkward bump ins from time to time, but somehow the two of you managed to steer clear of each other. From eating breakfast and dinner at separate times, to talking to Hobi at your own respective times, and of course the first thing Jungkook did the next day after your fight was move his things out of your restroom and into Hobi’s. You weren’t going to lie, it did sting just a little , but you were quick to get over it. The part that made Hobi roll his eyes even further back than they already did, was how quickly you two scrambled around each other whenever you did happen to coincidentally be in the same place such as the kitchen.

Originally Hobi tried any and every method possible to get you two to make up, knocking on doors and trying to trick you two into talking, faking handwriting, stealing personal belongings, and of course begging. Hell, he even tried confronting you two in one of the rare times you guys were in the kitchen at the same time, but all you two did was remain silent and go back into your respective rooms. Not bothering to even spare a glance at one another.

He had given up about two weeks in of trying, deciding that it was up to you two to figure out how you guys would make up. But it wasn’t until this Friday morning when he saw a certain letter stick out of the mail that he found himself loudly sighing.

“Oh Jungkook…” he whispers to himself, shaking his head as he read the letter in front of him. What was he going to do now?

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to get used to being the lone wolf in the apartment again, in fact it was easy for him to completely ignore your existence. It was easy to watch you struggle opening a jar full of kimchi. It was easy to catch a glimpse of you and Hobi watching One Piece on the couch whenever he was making his way out of the apartment to go and party. It was easy to hear you sing along to some new girl group song and not join along whenever he passed by your room. And it was very easy to hate you. Very easy indeed.

Gosh, who was he kidding? It was the hardest freaking thing in the world to do. Especially because he didn’t hate you at all. Pretending to? Yes. Actually? Fuck no.

If he was being honest, any hatred he had felt in the moment of the big argument had been rapidly washed away the moment he slammed his door shut. Instead it had been quickly replaced by the feeling of hurt and sadness. He even found himself sneaking into the kitchen that night to grab an extra pint of ice cream from the freezer and watch some stupid K-drama from his laptop back in his room. Even shedding a small tear when the male and female lead had to break up due to unforeseen circumstances. But of course if you asked him if it was true, he’d deny it in a heartbeat.

He’d often find himself zoning out and replaying the fight in his head. God, was he an idiot. What was he thinking destroying your painting like that? Did he really think you weren’t going to react the way you did? Sadly, the answer was a mixture of both yes and no. Yes, he wanted you to feel as hurt as he did, but he didn’t expect you to go fully ballistic on him. Did he blame you for it? No, of course not. You had every right to be mad at him as he had acted out in completely blind rage. Not bothering to stop for one moment and ask himself, am I okay with the possible outcome of what I’m about to do? Had he known it was going to be this, and well … he would’ve never done it.

It just happened so quick. One moment he was staring at the floor covered with broken pieces of glass and the next he had his fist going through the canvas of your painting, destroying the very thing he convinced you to work on. No wonder you hated him…

You hated him and you had every right to. He just wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to take it anymore. Having to only catch glimpses of you from time to time and not being able to say anything because he was too ashamed to even look at you was truly killing him. And he could only imagine how you felt having to see him every day and night. Knowing the person you hated most was living under the same roof as you. Hell, if the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t want you around at all.

Which is why as Jungkook currently stares aimlessly at the ceiling of his room, he knows he’s made the right decision.

The night of the fight between you and Jungkook, you had felt a range of emotions that honestly were quite overwhelming. Whenever you’d stare off into space you’d find yourself feeling very sad and reflective, but whenever you even caught a glimpse of your then destroyed painting on the floor you’d feel the rush of anger return all at once. It was like that the whole night, not even an episode of One Piece could cheer you up. If anything it made you feel even more confused because you were on the episode where (spoiler alert) *** dies, and well not only were you mad at how it happened, but sad because it was happening. Hell, that was probably the best way to describe how you felt about the whole argument.

The first couple of days had been hard to say the least, the dynamic between all three of you drastically changing in the matter of a couple days. No longer were there grocery shopping trips together, nor were there laundry days where you and Jungkook would compete to see who could fold the fastest, and of course there were no longer Netflix movie nights where Hobi would complain because you and Jungkook kept cracking too many jokes during the most intense scenes. Your laughs always echoing across the living room walls thus ruining the buildup of the scene.

You were good at pretending you didn’t care, in fact you were great at it. Maybe because a part of you actually didn’t care. You had long been fed up with Jungkook’s moody antics, and him destroying that painting was the final straw. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have gone into his room after he specifically told you not to, but you only did because you were worried about him and actually cared about him. Couldn’t he have seen that before he went full on rampage mode and destroyed your painting? He was wrong for what he did, and at the end of the day he had no right to hate you. Right?

These days you found yourself doubting it. It wasn’t like you were in the entire right, you mean you had invaded his privacy … you shake your head, begrudgingly getting out of bed before dwelling on your thoughts for any longer. The re-do of your painting, which currently sat on its easel, serving as reminder that you weren’t planning on talking to him anytime soon.

“Good Morning to you,” Hobi greets, watching you stomp your way into the kitchen, clearly running on an empty stomach. Jungkook was currently out, either working out or …. Hobi sighs recalling what he saw in the letter this morning.

“Good morning,” you mumble, the grouchy mood that Hobi found himself a little too used to making its morning return. In all the years he’s known you, to see you always this …. down …. was very unlike of you to say the least.

Whether you liked it or not, your fight with Jungkook had definitely changed some aspects of your personality, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. Because no matter how good you were good at faking it, and trust him you were good (a professional indeed), behind that tough wall you had put up in the last month was a person who was hurt. A person who had their heart crushed right in front of them.

Grabbing two slices of bread, you place them in the toaster, preparing to make yourself some avocado toast. You sigh when you hear Hobi’s footsteps getting closer, not wanting to hear the whole “You need to talk to Jungkook” speech this early on a Saturday morning.

Turning around to face him, you’re prepared to protest against his usual lecture, “Hobi I don’t—” the sound of an envelope hitting the counter catching you off guard, stopping you from continuing any further. Furrowing your brows, your eyes glint with confusion. Hobi stares at you with a stoic expression, waiting for you to grab the letter from the island’s counter.

Slowly you grab the white envelope, extremely confused as to what this had to do with. The name on the recipient line reads, “Jeon Jungkook” and for a small second you feel your heart stop, but you’re quick to shake it off.

“This isn’t mine, if you can’t tell,” you scoff, preparing to hand the envelope back to Hobi.

Pushing your hand away, he says, “Read it,” his tone telling you that it wasn’t exactly an option.

Rolling your eyes, you pull out the single piece of paper that’s inside, unfolding the tri-folded letter. Your eyes quickly gaze over the subject line which reads, “Application Approval,” catching your attention. From there you continue to read…

Dear Jeon Jungkook,

We are pleased to notify you that we have received and accepted your application for the lease property of **** Jangsin-Ro, Apartment 32. Your lease will begin on September 28, 2019 and your rent amount is ₩**** for every 1st of the month. Any cancellations will result in a ₩*** fee. I want to thank you for your application and anticipate that you will have an enjoyable living experience in your new home.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.

Sincerely,

Bang Si-Hyuk.

Wait what? Your eyes reread the letter that’s in front of you because clearly you were reading something wrong. Your eyes must’ve been deceiving you because there was just no way…. Looking up at Hobi, you hope this was another of his attempts to get you to talk to Jungkook, but there he stood, straight faced as ever.

“He’s—” your voice whimpers like a little kid, “He’s moving out?”

“Ow!” Jungkook squirms, the feeling of your fingers pinching his arm hurting him, “What was that for?!” he yelps.

“For trying to move out without telling us! And don’t you dare ever pull something like that again,” you scold him, tempted to pinch him again.

Garnering a laugh out of him, you cross your arms like a kid and huff a loud breath of air, “Ah I won’t, I won’t,” he giggles, “Maybe…” he mumbles, but he’s quick to raise his arms in defense once he sees you ready to pinch him once again, “I’m just kidding,” he sings and you roll your eyes.

“Serves you right,” you mutter, letting out the hurt you felt that day to him because honestly, you had never gotten the opportunity to do so…

September 2019.

“Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out,” you think to yourself, having to come to terms with the fact that in exactly 48 hours from now Jungkook was officially going to be out of your life … for good.

You were shocked to say the least, when you saw the application letter, not exactly sure about what you felt. You mean, yeah you were definitely mad at Jungkook, but enough to the point where you wanted him officially out of your life? Hell no.

So then where the hell did he even get the idea to move out? It wasn’t like you two were being mean to each other, nor was there blatant hatred being shown on your part. All you two were doing were ignoring each other like two little kids. That should not be cause for someone to move out. Not at all!

A knock on the door catches your attention, “You ready?” Hobi asks, dressed in business like attire. His all black suit made him seem almost intimidating, that was until your eyes landed on his newly dyed cherry-red hair only causing you to stifle a small laugh.

Nodding your head, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Tonight was the night of the art exhibition, and you were very very nervous. You had turned in your piece a couple of days prior, but to have to later unveil it in front of everyone along with giving a small speech was nerve wracking. Especially considering you hadn’t involved yourself in the world of the arts for several years now, if anything you were used to constantly talking about accounting numbers and different business statistics.

“It’s either now or never,” you whisper to yourself, not knowing what awaited you.

“I just don’t get it Hobi,” you rant in the car, on your way to the galleria’s location, “he didn’t see me trying to move out when he was being nothing but a complete dick to me those first couple of months!” you pout, still not having accepted that Jungkook was moving out, despite constantly reminding yourself that he was.

Hobi sighs, feeling as if he’s heard you rant about this since you’ve found out … oh wait … you have! “Y/N—” he begins.

“No listen to me Hobi!” you interrupt, “Can he really not stand the sight of me that he feels the need to move out?? Was me going into his room really that big of an issue,” your voice wavers a bit, but you continue nonetheless, “And the fact that he hasn’t even bothered to tell you! So what? He was just planning on disappearing this coming Monday! Thinking no questions were going to be raised? I mean imagine you hadn’t seen that letter, he would’ve left thinking I hate him!” And to that Hobi lets out a scoff.

“What do you mean?” he scrunches his face, “He still is!” Hobi raises his finger before you could talk, “My turn,” he firmly states, only causing you to drop your defensive shoulders and roll your eyes.

“You two have not talked at all since your stupid little argument where clearly both of you were in the wrong!” he rants, repeating what he’s been saying for the last two months, the topic becoming tiresome, “And now one of you is leaving because neither of you can get over yourselves and just initiate some kind of freaking conversation! Just one conversation and I am one hundred percent sure everything will get cleared up and we can all go back to our daily lives, but nooooo both of you think we’re in some freaking K-drama, actually no, even K-dramas make up faster than the two of you!” he ends his rant on an insult, and you’re left there momentarily speechless.

“You are so—”

“I’m what?” Hobi glares at you, and you only narrow your eyes at him in return.

“You are so wrong,” you state, refusing to now look at him, instead looking out the window.

“I’m right and you know it,” you mumble something under your breath in response, “You invaded his privacy after he repeatedly told you not to, but for some reason you just felt the impulsive need to go into his room and find out what he was hiding. You know, I’m sorry Y/N but if Jungkook’s the biggest dickhead in existence then you my friend are the pushiest one,” he complains, finding his grip on the steering wheel becoming tighter. God, did the two of you get his blood pressure boiling up.

“You don’t get it, I had to go into his room,” you mutter, not exactly happy with the fact that Hobi is reading you for filth.

“No you didn't,” the two of you begin to go back and forth, voice raising with every sentence.

“Yes, I did.”

“No you did not.”

“Um yes—”

“Um n—”

“Yes, how else was I going to be able to find out what was hurting him?” you interrupt, turning to face Hobi, feeling the migraine in your head about to pop.

“And why would you need to know that?”

“Because I lo—” you quickly catch yourself before you could complete the sentence, crossing your arms and pouting. Like hell you’d confess in front of Hobi.

Hobi looks at you knowingly, “Because you what,” he taunts, knowing exactly what you were going to say,

“Just drive,” you mumble, your attention back to the window beside you, focusing on the view of the city streets.

“Ah Y/N, there you are!” Jimin greets you and Hobi, having barely walked in from your argumentative car ride, “You’re on in like ten minutes,” he nervously chuckles, worrying only minutes ago that you were going to be a no-show.

“That quick?” you ask in complete shock, barely having taken off your dress-coat. The churns in your stomach begin to make you feel physically sick and there’s now a certain dryness to your throat that you could only accredit to the tension you were now feeling. Your palms were even beginning to get a little sweaty. Why were you doing this again? Oh yeah … Jungkook.

“Come on let’s go and get you set up,” Jimin tugs at your hand, pulling you to follow him. With your other hand, you attempt to look for your flash cards, wanting to remind yourself of the specific points you needed to cover.

“What the—” your heart drops, unable to feel the flimsy piece of paper anywhere near the coat that hung against your arm, “Oh no,” you murmur to yourself, not wanting to panic Jimin, “No, no, no,” you repeat to yourself.

“Okay here we are,” he stops you two in front of your draped-covered painting, pulling out a lapel mic from his pocket, clipping it onto the collar of your outfit. Now that you weren’t moving, you were now barely taking note of just how many people filled the galleria, and it was a lot. There had to be at least 200 people, minimum. Each and every one of them slowly looking around at the already unveiled art pieces, their eyes doing the judging for them.

“Jimin I don’t know—”

“Hey, you’re gonna do just fine, it’s just a bit of stage fright I’m sure,” he reassures, and though you appreciate the gesture, coming from him it just didn’t mean much. You see, Jimin has always been what's called an optimistic person, similar to you in a way. Always trying to find the good in the bad. But in order for his words to really have some effect, it would’ve been better if he was a pessimist, someone who always saw the negative in everything because then to hear that you would do just fine would come more as a shock rather than as something expected, someone like—

You shake your head,“I’m just,” your outfit suddenly begins to feel as if it's squeezing the life out of you, “I’m really nervous,” you whisper to him out of breath, watching as people begin to crowd around your area. Were the walls closing in or was it just you?

He begins to test the mic, “Jimin—” you repeat his name, a cry for help, “I can’t—” but it’s too late.

“Hello everyone,” he speaks into his own microphone, and you scan the audience to see if you can spot Hobi. When you do, you notice the look of panic he has on his own face, probably aware of your distressed state, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it, “This artist I’m introducing to you, has been a personal friend of mine for years. I’ve known her since my first year in college, and I can vouch for just how talented she is,” Jimin glances at you, unaware of just how truly panicked you were, “So without further ado, y/n take it away,” he steps away, leaving you under the sole spotlight.

Remaining silent for a moment, you stare at the several pairs of eyes that had their gaze solely focused on you. “H-Hello,” you stutter into the mic, glad that it wasn’t a handheld one as you were sure that you would’ve been a jittering mess, “Um my name is y/n l/n,” you nervously smile, trying to find something to focus your attention on. Originally you planned on staring at Hobi the whole time, only to find out it made you even more of a stuttering mess. God, was it getting hot in here.

“So um I think we should um reveal the painting first,” you sputter out, signalling to Jimin that it was time. Slowly he removes the drape, the sound of clapping providing you a bit of a soothing effect. People liked it. People freaking liked it. It felt as if a brick or two had been dropped from your shoulders.

You gulp continuing with your speech, “So I um—” breathe y/n, “I call this piece safety net,” you turn sideways towards the painting, ready to explain, “I call it that because as y-you can see in the painting,” you mindlessly point to it as if the audience couldn’t see it themselves, “There’s the um the figure falling into what I call a safety net of flowers and—” you stare at the painting along with them, finding yourself getting lost in your own work, “well I painted this after—” you pause, the room completely silent, “after finding myself wanting to be someone’s safety net,” you mumble to yourself, a certain person coming to mind.

There’s an awkwardness to the room, the kind of stiffness you only find in tense moments. You weren’t sure if it was because the audience was trying to be respectful or you were just making a complete mess out of yourself, but either way Jimin awkwardly coughs, “So um we will now take questions from the audience,” Jimin hesitantly says, by now noticing the extremely panicked state you were in, but unsure of what to do.

A woman raises her hand, a volunteer for the galleria handing her a mic, “Hello,” she politely greets, giving you a warm smile, “So I was curious as to why you chose two colors that don’t conventionally go well together, I was wondering if you did that on purpose or…” and though you know her question means no harm, the voice in your head was convincing you that this was some kind of an attack.

“I um—” your breathing becomes heavier, “I—” Just speak, you keep telling yourself. Tell her that you chose two colors because they represented two different personalities. Say something you freaking idiot. “I um c-chose—” you begin to hear the sound of people murmuring all around you, their voices echoing loudly through your head. What were they saying? Did they hate your painting? Did they think it made absolutely no sense? Was it really that bad? What were you thinking when agreeing to do all this? How could you have been convinced to do this? You didn’t paint anymore for this exact reason.

With every thought that races through your mind, the sudden sense of impending doom only becomes stronger and your rapid breathing becomes louder. You had to be sweating because God did it feel like a fucking sauna in here. The tightness in your throat wasn’t helping at all as well only making the feeling of nausea further overwhelming. You needed to get out of here. Now.

And so without thinking… you run.

You yank out the mic and begin to run to God knows where, ignoring the shouts of your name along with the small number of gasps that could be heard.You needed to breathe again, and you desperately needed this feeling of danger to be gone.

Trying not to bump into too many people walking the dark city streets of Seoul, focusing on the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement, tuning out everything around you. “Just run,” you tell yourself, “Run until no one can find you.”

Soon the sound of your heels clacking against the pavement becoming the sound of your heels crunching against leaves. The pitch blackness of your surroundings causes tears to begin to well up, the trembling of your fingers along with the chills running down your spine making you feel as if you were running in an endless loop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

You come to sudden halt, pushing your arm against a nearby tree, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were alone now, isn’t this what you wanted? So then why did you still feel as if the world was crashing down on you. Why couldn’t you breathe? Why were hot tears spilling from your eyes? What the hell was wrong with you?

By now your sobs are in full force, your heaving chest only adding to its force. Because of your crying, you fail to hear a voice, “There you are!” Jungkook catches his breath, surprised at how fast you could run in heels. For a small second he thought he had lost you in the chase, with the way you maneuvered around everyone, he was thankful he hadn’t.

“Y/N,” he calls out, expecting you to turn, but he’s met with silence. You were having a panic attack, a bad one at that. Making his way closer to you, he’s careful in how he approaches you, grabbing your hand before you could run any further, “Y/N,” he repeats, this time turning you to face him, but you continue to cry in hysteria, your vision blurred by just how fast tears were falling from your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me y/n,” he cups your face with his hands, a worrisome but firm look on his face, “I need you to breathe with me, okay?” your chest continues to heave, the rapid breaths of air coming from your mouth at an alarming rate, “Y/N!” he shouts, causing you to go silent, “Y/N…” he softly repeats, knowing he’s gotten your attention. You stare at him in silence, “One,” he inhales a big breath of air, “Two,” he exhales out, “Inhale,” he repeats his actions again, “Exhale,” he breathes out.

Slowly you begin to follow. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

In no time, your heartbeat begins to slow down, your mind focused enough on the task at hand that you begin to forget why you were ever panicked to begin with. “Hey,” Jungkook whispers, caressing your cheek with his hand, “You’re doing great,” he reassures you, providing you the words of comfort you so desperately needed to hear right now.

It had been so long since you’d gone through having a panic attack, almost forgetting just how bad they could sometimes get. But for now staring into Jungkook’s eyes and practicing some breathing exercises was enough to remember that no matter how bad they got, you’d get through them.

His fingers gently graze your cheeks, continuing to mumble small phrases of reassurance while you were getting control of yourself. “Has anyone ever told you,” you place a finger to the corner of his eye, quietly breathing your words out, “you have very round eyes,” you say and Jungkook lets a huffed laugh out in response.

He scrunches his nose and smiles, “Yeah, a lot of people have actually,” he laughs, a toothy grin spreading across his face while he uncups your cheeks, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over him as he knew you were going to be just fine, “I’ve been told they look like a doe’s eyes,” you quietly nod your head yes, agreeing with his statement, a warm smile on your face.

“Come on,” he intertwines your fingers, gently pulling you to follow him and leading you to a park bench that was near. But the thing was, it wasn’t just any park bench, it was the park bench from the night Jungkook was drunk and the two of you had gotten into the fight with that drunk man. What were the odds? You hadn’t even noticed that you ran this far till now...

He exhales a large breath of air once you two sit, allowing a neither comfortable nor awkward silence fill the air. Despite the heartwarming moment that happened only minutes ago, there were still things that needed to be talked about. Things that simply couldn’t be forgotten. It was the sole reason he had gone to the art exhibition because he wanted, no, he needed to talk to you.

He just hadn’t expected to see you running out in complete panic right as he walked in. The tears that were slowly rolling down from your eyes, causing him to feel a sudden sense of heartbreak. For the only reason you’d ever cry would be if your hard work were to be destroyed, whether physically or emotionally. It was the same despaired look you had given him that fateful day he decided to throw everything good that was becoming of his life out the window.

And so to see the scene in front of him play out had definitely caused both a mix of anger and sadness to boil within him. His urge to defend and protect you, almost overcoming his need to go out and make sure you were okay. That was until he found himself running out the door, signalling to Hobi that he’d handle it.

And so now here the two of you were, quietly sitting on a park bench with your hands being the only things physically touching, a comfort of its own for the both of you. It didn’t feel weird nor did it feel wrong because if anything it just felt right.

A part of you thinks and hopes it could remain like this forever, scared that if it didn't, you’d have to return back to the world where you and Jungkook were nothing more than strangers who were once friends. The world where acting as if one or the other didn’t exist was completely normal. The one where you’d find your heart selfishly longing for him despite stubbornly not wanting to. And so whether it be for a small second, a minute, or an hour, for now at least you just wanted to savor the moment because who knew what would possibly happen if he decided to leave and never come back.

“Y/N…” he begins.

“Shh,” you whisper, your puffy eyes softly gazing at the view of the trees in front of you, the silhouettes of trees as well sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches, a view you were once so scared of, not so scary anymore, “Just one more second,” you close your eyes, taking in one final breath of air. Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sight, remembering the scene from only months ago where it had been you doing all the staring. You pull his hand when you’re ready, your soft gaze now directed towards him.

“I just—” he begins to stutter, “I wanted to—” he feels his eyes get watery, the rush of emotion he was beginning to feel almost overwhelming him, “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” his voice slightly cracks, “for everything,” he whispers, allowing a tear to fall from his eye, feeling the weight he had been holding onto his shoulders now falling. The small leaks of vulnerability that you had occasionally seen now completely flooding through his walls of defense, that single tear becoming several, until soon you hear a sob emit from his mouth, but by then you have him wrapped in a hug, the sound of his sobs being muffled by your shoulder. Slowly you caress his hair, gently stroking and twirling the locks of his wavy hair in between your fingers, deciding that this time around silence was the best way to go.

“I’m so sorry,” he hysterically cries, holding onto you tighter, as if you’d go anywhere. He begins to shake his head, struggling to find the words that’d best describe how he felt at this current moment, “I’m—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” it’s your turn to say the words, gently pushing him off you so he could meet your gaze, “I know,” you reassure, “and I forgive you. The same way I’m sure you’ve forgiven me for snooping around your room like that,” you jokingly assume, and he smiles despite having red bloodshot eyes, “We were angry, and we said and did things that we shouldn't had but that doesn’t mean we have to hold them over our own heads for the rest of our lives,” you grip his hand tighter, “you made a mistake, and I made one as well. And rather than explode on one another and ignore each other, we should’ve talked about where we went wrong, and yeah,” you repeat your words from months ago, “maybe we didn’t get to do this as early as we hoped, in fact we’re quite late,” you giggle, “but we’re here nonetheless. And so let’s talk,” you say, ready to listen to the boy you had fallen in love with.

Jungkook stares at you in silence, a million thoughts racing through his mind, wondering how you always knew exactly what to say at the exact moment, “I,” he hesitates before continuing, “I need to start from the beginning,” he says, wiping any residue from the tears in his eyes, ready to open up the book he had kept closed for so long.

You nod to him, signalling that you were listening, “When I was a kid, I um,” he gulps, “I guess you could say I had a knack for boxing. Originally, my dad had taught me as a way to protect myself if I ever came across a situation that’d require me to defend myself,” his fingers begin to fidget within yours, a sign that he was nervous. Quick to soothe him, you rub small circles on the palms of his hands, his gaze occasionally avoiding eye contact.

“But I also think it was because my dad, who once wanted to be a boxer himself, saw me a way to vicariously live out his dream. Because soon he noticed that the knack I had for it was more of a talent,” a small smile appears on his lips, “and well by then he had begun to seriously train me… I remember always coming back after school and dulging right into practice, waking up on weekends and running laps at the park with my dad in order to gain stamina, and just,” he exhales a breath, “and just thinking to myself how proud I wanted to make him,” uncontrollably a tear falls from his face once again, and he tries to gain his composure before continuing, not wanting to begin the sob fest too early, “Once he thought I was ready, my dad had begun to sign me up for amatuer competitions, and well I did amazing,” Jungkook laughs.

“And soon boxing would become the sport I’d find myself building my life upon, but one day—“ he sighs, knowing the conclusion to his own story and well this was only the beginning, “one day during high school we had this um career day I guess you could call it, and well long story short after going around and listening to how passionate some of spokespersons were of their careers, I remember thinking, is boxing something I was doing for myself or for my father?”

A sad smile appears on his face, “I think the most confusing part for me was that I wasn't exactly passionate about anything else but I also just knew deep down in my heart that boxing wasn’t for me, you know? To this day I don’t know what exactly it is I'm passionate for,” he laughs, “and I certainly don’t see myself making coffee and flipping pancakes for the rest of my life,” he jokes around, an attempt the make the atmosphere a little lighter, “but I think with the help of someone I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay to be a bit of a late bloomer,” he winks at you, “one day I’ll wake up and just know…”

You give him a small reassuring smile, happy to know that he’s learned his own lessons along the way, even if it required a bit of pushing.

”But back to my story,” he awkwardly laughs, the small feign of happiness gone, “Though I had realized it already… maybe it was because I was scared, or maybe it was just—” he shakes his head, unable to find the words, “I just,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t tell my dad because for me telling my dad would feel as if I was telling him that all the years of hard work were going down the drain. That the endless nights of working out and exhausting ourselves to sleep were all for nothing. And so when my dad told me that managed to get me a spot at some training camp in the states, I took it. I mean it wasn’t like I had anything going for me here in Korea, and well I needed to guarantee my own future,” he shifts uncomfortably, remembering everything a little too vividly.

“I did pretty well for a couple years, slowly began climbing the ranks, and the natural talent I had for the sport was beginning to really shape itself, even catching the attention of prominent sport reporters. Long story short, I’d find myself surrounded with nothing but yes men and leeches who wanted nothing more than a piece of my so called success,” he gazes off to the distance, ashamed of the ego that had been built as a result of such people, “and well when you get told that you’re the best, that no one can stop you, that you’re untouchable, you truly begin to believe it,” he lets out a chuckle, “so when Brandon Star, a man who was nearly out of my weight class, began to provoke me for a fight on television after winning some match and I kept hearing from my so called friends that it’d be an easy match or that it was a guaranteed win, how could I say no? Of course at the time I didn’t know that they would be betting against me… so I said yes.”

A momentary silence fills the air as Jungkook had never told this whole story to anyone, the revealing of everything somewhat freeing for him, “A part of me knew I was way in over my head, it was like a gut feeling, you know? But I needed someone, anyone, to tell me the truth and to confirm what I was thinking. I needed someone who was going to criticize me instead of nodding their head yes and pretending that everything was going to be just fine. I think that’s why when I first met you, you reminded me so much of the people who were around me in the states, faking a smile in order to spare my feelings.” Sadness clouds his features, ashamed of how he took everything out on you when all you were doing was simply being the person you always were... kind. For that, he was truly sorry.

“Anyways,” he continues, “that night of the fight, the feeling I had in my stomach was overwhelming. I told my dad, who was helping prep me backstage like he always did, that I felt nervous. That I was scared,” his voice cracks and he closes his eyes, remembering the scene as if it was yesterday, “and my dad well...he’s always struggled with separating being a father and being a trainer,” Jungkook tries to contain the sob that’s begging to come out, “but at that moment I just needed my dad. I needed him to tell me that win or lose everything was going to be fine. That he’d be proud of me no matter what,” he finally cries, and as you’re about to pull him into another hug, he vigorously shakes his head, stopping you from doing so.

“No, I need to finish thi—”

“Jungkook,” you softly interrupt because it wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear anymore, you just weren’t sure if you could hear anymore without at some point sobbing yourself, “you don’t need to, especially if you’re not ready,” you stare at him with a sad look on your face.

“No, you deserve to know,” he firmly states, “you deserve to know,” he quietly repeats to himself. You nod your head in understanding, waiting for him to continue as he wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, composing himself.

“He told me that I’d do just fine, that the son he’s trained so long for wouldn’t fail him now,” he mumbles, the words of his father still echoing in his mind, “When you go and box, you’re supposed to enter that ring with no concerns of the real world, you’re supposed to put any negative or anxious thoughts you had outside the ring to rest. Because the moment you let just one of those thoughts seep through, you might as well hang up your gloves right then and there,” his expression hardens, “I went into that ring knowing I was going to lose…”

“From there I don’t remember too much,” he bitterly lets out a laugh, “I just remember being on a gurney and feeling the heaviness of Star’s punches beginning to weigh down on my chest, clearly having done some damage to my ribs,” he sighs, “but the moment I remember so clearly is my parents trying to make their way to me, doing their best to push their way in an effort to see me. I don’t know if it was because I was just so mad at myself,” his voice shakes, “or because I confused the look of sadness on my dad’s face with disappointment, but at the time—“ his voice falters again, “At the time I thought how ashamed he must’ve been of me,” he fights through his tears, trudging through the story, “And so as I was being lifted into the truck, I kept yelling how this was his fault, that it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jungkook lifts his head up, combing a hand through his hair.

“When I got to the hospital, I refused to let my parents see me, I was just too—“ God, did he sometimes wish he could go back in time and change everything, “I was too stubborn, too ashamed with myself to even look at them. So I ran,” he says, catching you by surprise, “I needed time alone so I ran,” he repeats, “I ran before they could find me, I just got up and ran,” there’s a haunting emptiness that lingers in his voice, one that brings chills down your spine.

“I called Hobi, and I told him that I needed to redeem a favor,” your mind flashes back to the night Hobi told you what he knew, “And I thought this is what I needed. That I’d be okay with starting anew, and that if I could firmly plant my feet in Seoul then I could visit my parents in Busan, and tell them how sorry I was without them having to worry too much about what the future would hold for me… and explain to them what happened, what I felt, and why I ran. That was my plan,” his voice cracks, “I was reaching a point in my life where I felt so content, so happy. I’d wake up to see you and Hobi making breakfast while imitating some random girl group dance and think to myself how things had managed to turn out so well for me despite my failure in the states. Or when we binged on One Piece episodes that whole night while stuffing our faces in tubed ice cream and I just felt like a little kid again without a worry in the world. But then …”

Jungkook feels the heavy feeling in his chest grow, “He passed away,” and just like that Jungkook feels as if the air has come out of his lungs, the same way it did the night he found out.

You feel your heart break at his words, recognition dawning over your face as everything was beginning to make sense. “My mom had managed to find my number in order to tell me there’d been an accident, and I just couldn’t believe it at first,” he attempts to hide his grief by stifling a sob, “I didn’t want to get up from bed at first because getting up would mean facing reality, it’d mean accepting that it wasn’t some kind of twisted fucked up nightmare but that it was real. That the last sight my dad saw of me was on some gurney,” his face twists, “that the last words I ever said to him were so—“ he breaks down, sobbing once again and this time you feel your own hot salty tears fall from your eyes, wrapping in such a tight hug that you weren’t sure if it was for his or your own sake.

He cries a sound so raw that it was almost as if the wound was still freshly cut, his hand clasping tightly onto your clothing for support. Any last defensive wall he had up was washed away by his salty tears, finally facing the final waves of grief, loss, and devastation in the arms of the person he had taken everything out on. The person he didn’t deserve at all, but had stayed nonetheless. You whisper sweet comforting words to his ear, wanting more than his grief to subside so that you could see the smile you loved so much appear on his face again.

“I just wish there was something I could’ve done differently,” he shakes his head, “so that he could know just how much his son loved and appreciated him,” he lifts his head up from your shoulder, wiping his tears away, and practicing his breathing as his chest had been heaving so bad because of his sobs, “And so that was why I completely changed that June and became cold. That was why I got so mad when I saw you in my room with the broken trophy I had gotten when I was a kid because I was just so reminded of everything,” he frowns, “and it had hit me like a freaking truck. To see my current world and the past one collide was just—“ he pauses, “overwhelming to say the least,” he concludes everything and you’re left there completely speechless.

You could’ve never in your wildest dreams even guessed that this was why Jungkook had come back to Seoul and why he had acted so cold for so long. His grievances had happened in such a short period of time, that all it took was one wrong move to set him completely off. No wonder he had kept himself so isolated … he knew he was ticking time bomb waiting to finally explode at any given moment.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, his words processing in both of your minds. You want to say the words that are currently repeating themselves in your mind, I love you. Three simple words that could make him forget his past, even if it was for a small moment in time. “Jungkook—” he looks up at you, “I—” you stutter, the words clinging onto the tip of your tongue, “I um,” you feel your chest become heavy as he stares at you in curiosity, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you force out instead. He furrows his eyebrows, ready to protest against your apology, but you’re quick to interrupt before he gets the chance to.

“Since you’re being so honest with me, I feel like it’s only right I’m honest with you,” you bite your lip, disappointed with your cowardice, “So that like that we get a better understanding of one another,” you feign a smile.

“There’s a reason why I got so um…” you pause, “anxious before and during the galleria,” you narrow your eyes, it was now your turn to open a book that’d long been left incomplete. “I told you right? That I was an art student at Busan’s Art college but that I ended up transferring after an incident occurred…” He quietly nods, allowing you to continue, “and well I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you let out a breathy chuckle.

He stares at you in silence, ready to listen as well. “Growing up, I really liked painting,” you laugh, recalling the memory of you painting on the walls as a kid, “for some reason it was something I found myself falling further in love with every calendar year, but my parents, well they were on the more skeptical side of making a career out of it. I mean I don’t really blame them,” you sound unsure, “I mean I know that it’s hard these days to find success in the world of arts, or at least the level of success most people want to obtain but originally for me it didn’t matter,” you chuckle, remembering how naive you had been.

“Before entering college, I’d sell my little paintings and merchandise on those small-business centric websites like Etsy and stuff,” you say for example, “and you’re right, when you get told that you’re good at something, you really begin to believe it…”

Jungkook wants to interrupt and tell you that whatever your situation was, was much more different than his. That you were actually good at what you did, no, you were amazing at it. He wasn’t sure if he could listen to you talk down on yourself, but nonetheless he continues to listen.

“My first year of college I met people like Jimin who were so passionate about what they do that it really cemented the idea I had in wanting to turn my water painting into a career,” you sigh, “but in the back of my mind I always did have tiny doubts that lingered, and I always made sure not to feed them too much, but when you’re surrounded by people who are just as talented or even better than you, it gets hard not to.”

Jungkook completely understands where you’re coming from, having been in a similar position himself before. “And it didn’t help that my parents were constantly breathing down my neck about finding a different career to focus on,” you shrug “anyways,” you continue, shaking your head, “In Busan’s Art College, like many other colleges there are departments, like STEM and Business for example, but in this case things are separated by like dance, art, film, et cetera. And well if you can’t tell I’m a bit of a … pushy … person,” you laugh and Jungkook softly smiles, neither agreeing or disagreeing, “I think it’s due to me always feeling a need to overcompensate my insecurities, I guess. Like when you first moved in, in order to reassure myself that you didn’t hate me, the pushy side of me came out,” you explain, and the same way you began to understand Jungkook as he was explaining his story, Jungkook was beginning to understand you as a person.

“Well back to the focal point, I was a part of a committee club for painters within the art department, thinking that if I took charge of something, it’d increase my chances in succeeding in my career once I graduated. But the thing is, is when you join those committees I guess you could say there’s like a hierarchy of some sort, a cliché come to life,” you try your best to keep the conversation as lighthearted as you can, wanting the energy in the air to become one that was positive, a reflection of just how much you two had grown, “and well during my second year we were all assigned a project for some city poster in which we’d present to the committee’s leader, Nari, and where she and a couple of others would then choose which one was going to be used. And let me tell you, this was a career making project. The people who were going to be at the unveiling were names like Ji Hye Yeom, Haegue Yang, and more,” you sigh knowing you were coming to the rough part of the story.

“Nari had specifically told us that we were to only use materials she had chosen for us, and limited us to certain color schemes that in my opinion were the ugliest schemes I’d ever seen,” you scoff, “So me being the pushy person I am, I went ahead and continued with my original plan, which was making a watercolor painting because at the end of the day if my painting did happen to get chosen, I wanted it to be a genuine work of mine, not something that was limited by someone who was no more superior than me all because of some flimsy title,” you softly shake your head, “And so I poured my heart into it, working on it every chance I got during that school year in order to make sure that the committee would be so amazed , they’d have no choice but to choose it even if it didn’t exactly follow Nari’s regulations.”

A feigned smile graces onto your lips, refusing to cry at a situation from years ago, “I was so nervous that day to present it, but I was also so excited. Excited because I knew I created a piece that was so beautiful I—,” for a quick second your voice falters, but you’re quick to catch yourself, “I was just so sure they’d choose it,” you whisper, voice sounding frail and defeated.

“That day I presented it, I thought the silence that filled the room was because they were amazed,” you close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to push back any tears that wanted to make their way out, “God I still remember the extra specks of white and gold I added to it the night before, thinking those extra touches were really going to tip the scale in my favor,” you mumble, the embarrassment you felt that day coming back.

Jungkook feels his jaw harden, at this point an automatic response to the thought of your feelings being hurt. He didn’t know why, but to see someone as kind as you act out of character whether it be because you were mad or sad, always caused a heavy feeling in his chest. The only thing you deserved to feel was happiness and comfort, and though he wasn’t sure it was something, he, himself, could guarantee you … he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

“After what felt like 20 minutes, of complete silence she slowly got up in front of everyone,” you blankly stare at the trees in front of you, “I remember my heart beating out of my freaking chest for some reason, and the sweat beginning to form at my palms. And the moment she started speaking, I just went blank—” you turn to face Jungkook, who had a worrisome look on his face, “She started to berate me in front of everyone, insulting my hard work and telling me that even despite me breaking her guidelines, the painting still wasn’t any good,” you gulp, “But in fact, her words didn’t bother me at all,” you pause, “it was the comments from my supposed peers that really twisted the knife for me,” you scoff, “and then she did the unthinkable...”

Jungkook feels the heavy weight in his chest drop because he knows what you’re about to say. He knows what that woman did. And he knows why you were so hurt when he destroyed your painting, “She grabbed the canvas from the display board, and she ripped it,” you say, managing to muster up the smallest of smiles, but Jungkook knows that it's nothing more than a facade. An illusion so that he could think that you were no longer hurt by the actions of that woman.

“Once she did that, it just triggered everything else that followed after,” you furrow your brows, refusing to look at Jungkook, “I was being laughed at while having a panic attack,” you scoff, “I felt like I was in a scene from a high school movie,” you attempt to mask your hurt by making a joke.

“I ended up running out of the building, feeling as if my heart was going to explode from how fast it was pounding, and the compression in my throat was almost unbearable,” your voice cracks, “in just 20 minutes she took away any confidence I had in my artistic abilities, In just 20 minutes she made me question everything I knew about myself,” a tear finally falls from your eye, speaking the words you’d never said out loud before into the world.

“I attempted to stay at the school for a couple more weeks after that, but every time I picked up a paint brush, I just kept hearing her words along with the rest of my peers’ as well, second guessing every stroke I made on canvas. I had lost my spark,” you stifle a sob, “After that, I decided to transfer out and follow the plans’ my parents had always set out for me… and well, you know the rest,” you laugh in between your tears, wondering just how pitiful you must’ve looked. But soon enough you feel Jungkook's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug so tight, you never wanted him to let go.

“Don’t leave,” you mumble into his chest.

Jungkook reassures you by cooing a small, “I won’t”, but gently you pull away once he does, holding onto his hand instead. A look of confusion washes over his face.

“No—” you shake your head, realizing he’s misunderstood, “I mean don’t leave our apartment,” you sniffle, giving him a small warm smile, leftover tears still brimming the corners of your eyes. His mouth gapes slightly open, taken back by your statement. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be moving out by Monday.

“We—” you shake your head, deciding that “we” wasn’t the right word in this case, “I need you,” you state, nothing but sincerity behind your words. Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat, the close-eyed soft smile that covers your face only making him smile in return.

He doesn’t need to say anything because you know … you know that he needs you just as much as you need him. You know that he’ll never leave your side from this day on because tonight was the start of a new chapter in your lives, one that included each other. Gently he pulls you into another hug, the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest being a feeling he could get used to.

“How did you even know where the venue was, or what the time the whole thing was?” you ask Jungkook, questions that hadn’t crossed your mind that day now forming.

“Hobi sent me a text that same night, very um … straightforward?” Jungkook chuckles, “It read, Art Exhibition. **** Namgang-Ro. 7:30 PM. Formal attire. You either go or you don’t. Up to you. Just don’t go crying later on that you regret not going. And well I had debated for several hours, originally chickening out and deciding to use me not having any formal suits as an excuse. That was until I walked into my room to find that Hobi had ironed one of his own for me to use,” Jungkook explains, “And well luckily I grew some balls and went and well now we’re here,” he smiles at you.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cut off too much of the story. We still have to remember all the good that came afterward,” you giggle, and he only flashes you an even bigger smile.

“Ah you’re right, you’re right. How could I forget?”

October 2019.

“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.

You see, tonight was Halloween, and for the first time since you and Hobi moved to your guys’ apartment, you were giving out candy to the little kids of your apartment complex who usually went floor to floor trick or treating and it was all thanks to Jungkook. You were surprised really, you would’ve never taken Jungkook as being someone who was such a kid at heart.

After weeks of begging, he’d finally managed to convince you and Hobi to not only dress, but distribute candy. Usually you and Hobi would turn off all the lights and ignore the knocks you’d receive on the door, choosing to have a movie night than to participate in Halloween festivities.

Realistically speaking, you sorta expected Jungkook to go out and party tonight which is why when he notified you weeks prior that all of you were going to be participating in giving out candy, you couldn’t find it in you to say no. Hobi on the other hand required a lot of convincing and though he wasn’t exactly helping with the distribution of candy, watching him dressed as Batman while lazily sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand was a gift in its own.

Jungkook, who desperately wanted to be a male version of Harley Quinn, had made you help him with cinching his crop top, exposing his toned lower abdomen every time he even stretched the slightest bit. It was…. quite a site … even causing several moms with their kids to “accidentally” stumble on your apartment floor again after only being there 10 minutes prior, your own little green monster finally making its appearance ….

But besides that, your favorite part of his whole costume was definitely the face/eye makeup he had done. The smoky blue and red along with the fake tatted heart under his left eye truly acting as the selling point of his costume. It just made him look very hot, more than usual. Hobi had even caught you staring at the boy on several occasions, teasingly nudging you whenever he did.

With Hobi dressed as Batman and Jungkook dressed as Harley Quinn, that of course only left you, who was currently dressed as none other than a female version of the Joker from Suicide Squad because despite how shitty the movie was, the style in which they made the Joker was still indeed very cool. Jungkook had even lent you his own natural artistic abilities to draw the tattoos where your dominant hand couldn’t firmly paint, laughing at the “twinsies” jokes you made in reference to his own tattoos. It had even given you the opportunity to ask him what each one of his own real tattoos meant to him.

Most of his tattoos, he explained, were done out of impulse. A majority of them being done in the states on a complete whim, but a couple of them held significant meaning to him. For example, his tattoo of a bandaged hand clearly represented his history with boxing. He explained that rather than get the overused boxing gloves as a tattoo, he’d get a simple bandaged hand done, deciding that it looked cooler and that you agreed with. Another example was the tattoo that translated to “Life Goes On” which was pretty self-explanatory, but meaningful nonetheless. Jungkook explained that it was one his favorite mottos growing up, and well recently it seemed to weave perfectly into his life.

But your favorite tattoo? The small One Piece manga strip he had across his left forearm. The story behind it almost caused you to shed a tear, had it not been for your white powdered makeup, you probably would've cried. You see, when Jungkook was a young boy he’d always watch One Piece as a distraction from boxing, falling in love with the story and its characters.

His dad, who’d always scold him whenever he caught him late at night watching the anime, never understood why Jungkook liked the show so much. It wasn’t until one night he somehow managed to convince his dad to watch the episode he was on, and despite not knowing anything about what was going on nor the characters’ names, his dad ended up loving the show just as much as him. The show had acted as a new bond between the two, from buying the latest manga volumes to staying up late at night to watch the newest episode. And well the strip on Jungkook’s arm was from the exact episode he had managed to convince his dad to watch with him that night. The tattoo serves as a representation of a memory he holds dearest to him, a memory of his dad.

“Ah I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook looks into the last bag of candy he had bought, absolutely nothing left inside, “Wasn’t this fu—”

“Let’s go get a tattoo,” you interrupt, the idea coming to you out of nowhere. Jungkook tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. A tattoo? You? Ms. I do not even have a dot of ink on my skin?

“A tattoo!?” Hobi turns from the TV, now having got his attention.

Both men stare at you in silence, thinking this was all some big joke until you begin to nod, reaffirming your choice, “Yes! All three of us! Matching roommate tattoos,” you smile, not exactly sure what had gotten into you, but surprisingly... completely okay with it.

Jungkook, noticing just how serious you were about this, begins to feel a smile form on his face. It wasn’t like he minded, he just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to regret it the next morning, “Y/N, you sure you one? I mean … you’re not someone I picture getting a tattoo, I mean think of your job,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, think of your job!” Hobi butts in, clearly not in favor of getting a tattoo.

Vigorously, you nod your head, “I’m one hundred percent sure,” you laugh, “I promise you, I won’t regret it,” you stick out your pinky finger, and Jungkook is quick to hug it with his own.

“W-What the?” Hobi stutters, unsure if it was the alcohol or shock in his system causing it. Probably both.

You turn to Hobi, “If you really don’t want it, then you don’t have to get it,” you shrug, “But at least come with us,” you smile, hoping that once you were there at the parlor shop you’d be able to convince him.

Sitting on the leather stool with your forearm displayed, the tattooist begins to prep your skin placing rubbing alcohol on the area in which you had chosen to get your tattoo. Now that you are here, you couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. But mostly because you were skeptical of the pain the needle would give you.

Jungkook had described it as “a cat repeatedly scratching a sunburn”... as if you were supposed to know what that means. He also said that depending on your pain tolerance you’d either like the feeling, get used to it, or absolutely hate it. It just varied from person to person as well as the placement where you were choosing to get it.

Supposedly the inner wrist didn’t hurt, but with the sudden stinging sensation you were feeling, you were a bit unsure of that now.

“So is that your boyfriend out there?” the woman tattooing you suddenly asks, catching you completely by surprise. If she didn’t have a pricking needle against your skin , you probably would’ve jumped at the accusation.

Trying your best to keep your cool, you respond, “Oh um—” you shake your head, “No,” you awkwardly laugh, “I wish”, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” she hums, the same smirk Jimin once gave you appearing on her face, “Sorta seemed like it out there, I mean I’m sure if he had the option he would’ve chosen to sit here right next to you and hold your hand,” she teases, and a blush appears on your cheeks.

“Oh that’s just how he is with everyone,” you reason, not wanting to feed into the delusions that Jungkook could possibly return any feelings for you, “He’s a very protective person, sometimes a little too much, but it has its benefits,” you joke around.

She shrugs, continuing to work on the small tattoo, “”Mm I don’t know, I mean the way with the way he looks at youuuu,” she sings, “because you clearly like him,” she laughs.

“No I don’t!” you pout, “We’re just close friends, that’s all….”

“Close friends don’t look at each other like that, and they’re certainly not as touchy as you two are,” she says, only causing you to scoff.

“You don’t know what you’re ta—”

“All done!” she smiles, wiping over the fresh new ink on your skin one last time, “Look how easy it was for me to get you to stop wincing so much,” she winks at you, and suddenly everything begins to make sense. She was trying to get you to relax. Was the topic she chose really the best one? No. But it worked didn’t it?

She places the plastic wrap over it, “So what do you think?” you stare at the new permanent piece of work on your skin, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Ah I—”

“Love it so much!” you flash Jungkook the two-month old ink on your skin, the digital numbers “00:00” acting as a permanent reminder of the day all three of you officially became roommates. It was small, yes, but to you it meant so much.

Jungkook pulls his own sleeve, showing you his own matching ink, “Zero o’ clock,” he hums, recalling a song he heard not too long ago on the radio.

“Ah too bad we couldn’t convince Hobi to get one,” you sigh, remembering how firm he was that night, “but we’ll get him next time,” you laugh.

Jungkook quirks his brow, “Next time?”

You nod your head, “I can see why people get addicted to these things,” you joke, “they’re like their own pieces of art,” you smile.

“Design mine next time,” he suddenly says, his statement coming off more as a command than a question. Turning to face him, you look for any small sign that he was joking.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I think a watercolor style painting would look amazing rightttt,” he points to the side of his ribcage, “here.”

Eyes widening in shock, you’re in complete disbelief, “You—you’re crazy!” you laugh, refusing to take him seriously.

“Ah I’m being serious Y/N,” he pouts, “Come on you know you want toooo,” he sings, softly nudging you.

You stare at him for a moment, “Are you sure?” you ask, skeptical about his seriousness.

He nods, “As sure as you were about getting that tattoo that night,” he teases, and you only roll your eyes in return.

“Mmm,” you hum, “I’ll think about it.”

“Think?! I’m your roommate!” he dramatically complains, throwing his head against your shoulder, suddenly in a clingy mood. Maybe the tattooist was right… maybe you two were a little too touchy….

You mean, just last month during friendsgiving, Hobi just had to complain in front of everyone claiming, “If you two don’t get your own room—”

“Then I think at some point this turkey is going to come back alive just to tell you two himself,” he slurs his words, wine glass in hand.

Drunk Yoongi tags in, “How do you know it’s a he?” he squints his eyes, gearing up for a debate.

Hobi rolls his eyes and makes a dismissive motion with his hand, “Not now Yoongi,” he says, causing everyone sitting at the table to laugh, and he turns his attention back to you and Jungkook, currently sitting next to each other, “Are you two going to continue playing footsies or are you finally going to—”

Seokjin interrupts by awkwardly coughing and tapping his champagne glass with his fork, getting up from his seat in the process, “I think it’s the perfect time to do our annual “What am I thankful for” toast, so I’ll begin,” he laughs, all eyes on him, “So um this year I am thankful for all of my friends who continuously stick by side throughout the years, and for the wonderful woman I’ve grown to love more and more every day,” he warmly smiles at his girlfriend, the two already seeming like a married couple despite having only met this year. Seokjin turns his attention to Yoongi, signalling that it was his turn.

He groans before getting up, peeved as to why Seokjin always insisted on doing these things, “Okay okay—”

“This is gonna take a while,” you whisper to Jungkook, Yoongi’s speech now fading into the background.

Jungkook quietly chuckles in response, “You think? How long do you think it’ll take before he starts with his “back in my day” speech?” he jokes around.

Suddenly Yoongi’s voice becomes more audible, “Back in my day we didn’t use—”

You and Jungkook snortle a laugh, “Not long,” you respond, the two of you trying your best to keep your snickering at a low.

“So … got anything prepared?” he asks, this being his first year and all doing this kind of thing, he was a bit nervous as to what to say.

You shake your head, “Mm no, you just sorta say what’s on your mind? I guess?” you awkwardly laugh, “Trust me, as long as they have their bottles of soju next to them, whatever you say will go in one ear and out the other,” you reassure, remembering the first year you did this and gave a heartwarming speech, just for it to be ignored because Namjoon could’ve sworn he’d seen the “turkey move”. From there it led to an hour debate on whether a dead freaking turkey could still possibly be alive after having it in the oven for several hours.

He nods his head, noting what you’ve said.

After going around it was now the last toast of the night,“Ah and lastly onto our newest member in this friend group,” Namjoon, who had just finished his own speech, turns to Jungkook and pats his shoulder, “take it away,” he gives him a dimpled smile before sitting back in his seat.

Jungkook awkwardly blinks at him for a moment, not getting up until you nudge him to do so. “Oh yeah…” he forces a laugh, “Um so where do I begin,” you almost feel second hand embarrassment, if you thought you weren’t any good under pressure, Jungkook might take the crown.

“So… The first thing I want to say I’m thankful for are the new friends I’ve made since coming to Seoul,” he spares a glance to the boys, “um..” he bites his lip, “The second thing or person may I say, that I want to thank is Hobi…” he smiles at the drunk man, “well for giving me a second chance per say,” he chuckles, “I know I don’t say it often, but I’m truly grateful for you picking up my call that night,” Hobi gives a small warm smile, “And well the last person I want really want to mention that I’m thankful for is … you,” Jungkook suddenly turns his attention down to you, catching you by surprise.

Raising your eyebrows, you wonder where this is coming from, “I um—” he feighs a small laugh, “I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest person when I first moved in, but—” he exhales a breath, “But you gave continuously gave me a chance to prove otherwise every single time until I finally got it right,” he smiles, “and well last year I had a pretty rough year,” he jokes around, “and honestly I thought coming in 2019 it’d be just bad, but you single handedly proved me wrong and made sure this was going to be a year for me to remember and well for that I’m forever grateful,” you silently blink away any tears, not wanting to get teased at for crying after this his speech was done. He breaks away the gaze he held on you in order to finish his speech off, “So with that I say … cheers everyone!”

Everyone raises their glasses of whatever it was they chose to drink, clinking it all in the middle and repeating “Cheers!” before gulping down whatever was left of their drinks. The rest of the night is filled with nothing but laughs and joy, as well as the remainder of the month, every single day creating a new memory for the three of you, until you were left with nothing but...

“The present day,” you whisper to yourself, unable to believe that the year had gone by so fast.

“What a year it’s been huh…” Jungkook softly smiles, glancing at the time on his phone which reads 11:50. 10 more minutes until the new year. 10 more minutes until zero’o clock.

“Yeah…” a comfortable silence fills the air around you, how had the hour gone by in the blink of an eye? You wonder if it’s the effect Jungkook just naturally has on people because never did you find time going by so fast unless you were with him.

“I—”

“So—”

Your cheeks become a tinge of pink , “Oh you go first—” he shakes his head.

“No, no, go ahead,” he laughs, insisting that you go instead.

This was the perfect chance, the chance to tell him about the feelings you’d grown to have for him in the past year. You just needed to grow the courage to say those three letter words that were itching to be said. It was either now or never.

“I um, I just wanted to say thank you,” you chicken out once again, “I didn’t get the chance to say it on friendsgiving, but,” you gulp, “your speech it um meant a lot to me, and well I’m just as grateful for you,” you chuckle, “I think maybe even more.”

Had you noticed, you would’ve seen the slightly disappointed look on Jungkook’s face, “Oh..” he says, a small pout appearing on his face.

“What were you going to say?” you ask, faking the pep in your voice, ready to eternally scold yourself for being a chicken once you got back to the cabin.

He sighs, “It’s nothing really,” he shrugs, but you nudge his shoulder before he could divert the conversation elsewhere.

“Come on, just say it,” you tease, “because you either speak now or forever hold your piece,” you look at the time, “5 minutes till midnight.”

He stays silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should say what had been on his mind for quite some time, “I um—” fuck it, it was either now or never, “You know how I told you that I couldn’t sleep right? That it’s why I came out here…” you innocently nod your head as he continues, “well it’s cause I had already sorta been thinking about everything that’s happened this year…” he lets out a small chuckle.

“I mean isn’t it crazy?” he pushes his hair back with his hand, “Someone who was nothing more than a stranger before the clock hit twelve that night is now someone I can’t picture not being in my life,” you feel your heart flutter at his words, “And I mean to think we didn’t get along at first,” he lets out a breath of disbelief, “All because I was a person who was—” he pauses, unsure of how to describe himself from that time, “angry,” he decides to say, “I was an angry person who mad at the world,” he bites his lip in retribution for his attitude back then.

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head, “you were just someone who was… hurt. That’s all it was,” you say.

“You think?” you nod your head yes, “I never really thought about it like that,” he mumbles, “Would you do it all over again?” he suddenly asks, and you find yourself quirking your brow at his question, “Like if you had the chance would you do it all over again…” he further explains.

Without a second thought you say, “Yeah I would,” you giggle, “And you?”

He remains silent for a moment, pondering on his own question before nodding his head as well, “I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again because then I’d get to relive the process of falling in love with you all over again,” he finally says, “I’d get to pinpoint the exact moment this year that I fell in love with you.”

“In ten, nine, eight…” the families around you begin to shout the countdown, and all you can do is stare at Jungkook in disbelief of what you just heard come out of his mouth.

“Y-You love me?” you manage to stutter out, a smile now forming on your lips.

“Seven, six, five…..”

Silently, he nods his head, a loving smile on his face as he leans towards you, the flutter in your stomach only intensifying.

“Four, three, two, one….”

And as if time had stopped, his lips finally meet yours and the only thing you could feel were the placement of warm lips against yours, giving you a New Year’s kiss that would be remembered for years to come.

“Happy New Year!” the sound of fireworks popping are echoed in the background because the only thing you could focus on were the soft lips that were moving with yours. His fingers curl around yours, creating such an intimacy that you were sure you had to be dreaming. It wasn’t until you found yourself kissing him back that the reality of everything finally set in. Jungkook loved you.

Slowly he pulls away, savoring the kiss till its very last moment, “Happy New Years Y/N,” he whispers, a grin plastered on his face.

Laughing in return, you smile, “Happy New Years Jungkook.”

Once you and Jungkook returned to the cabin, you were met with several complaints from Hobi, “Finally! We’ve been freezing all night!” Hobi exclaimed the moment you two walked in, harshly grabbing the firewood from Jungkook’s hands. It wasn’t until he peeped your linked arms that everything began to make sense, “Ahhh,” he gives you two a toothy grin, “You guys, look who’ve finally confessed to one another,” he yells, catching the attention of everyone in the living room.

Suddenly the room is filled with several “finally’s” causing both of your mouths to slightly agape open. “What do you mean “finally” ?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking at Hobi for an explanation.

He scoffs, “Don’t act dense you two!” he laughs, “It was so obvious you two liked one another, you two were just too blind to see it yourselves,” he scolds both you and Jungkook by flicking your foreheads, “You just didn’t have to go confessing while all of us were freezing in here!”

Both you and Jungkook awkwardly laugh, a guilty look on one another’s face. “Well choo you two before I make you two clean everything up and babysit our friends!” Hobi makes a motion with his hands, and the two of you are quick to make your way upstairs into Jungkook’s room. Thankful that he didn’t punish the two of you.

Jungkook is quick to take off his puffy jacket, plopping himself onto the bed like a little kid, a loud breathy sigh following after. You stare at him for a moment, unsure of what to do, that is until you see him open his arms wide with a pout appearing on his face, “Come onnn,” he sings, “Let’s cuddle,” he shoots you a smile.

Playfully you roll your eyes before taking off your own jacket, plopping onto the spot next to him. Small feverish giggles escape your lips once he begins to give you tiny kisses all over, enveloping you in a hug so tight, it would’ve been impossible to ever doubt his feelings for you.

“Jungkook stop,” you laugh, the tickles he was now giving you making the sides of your stomach hurt, “Jung—” you attempt to push his hand away, face becoming red at just how much you were laughing, his own high-pitched laugh echoing across the walls of the room with you. From there he does a mixture of both tickling and kissing you, the two of you truly in your own world.

Soon though, your little game of tickles becomes a full on makeout session, not that you were complaining. Currently you lay under him with Jungkook leaning against you, using his arm that rested on the bed as support.

Slowly he slips his tongue into your mouth, gentle but demanding, nothing less than pure love behind the kiss. “Jungkooook,” you quietly whine once he begins to move onto your neck, every suckle lasting a little longer than the last. His hand interlocks with yours as he continues, you’re hand subconsciously playing with his hair from behind, making small twirls with the brown wavy locks of hair.

“I love youuu,” he cooes, a certain gleam to his eyes. Soon enough, his fingers were teasingly playing with the waistband of your leggings. And God, were you dripping. “Can I?” he innocently looks at you, licking his lips in the process. You’d be crazy to say no.

Nodding your head yes, he nudges your legs apart and begins to pull off the cotton fabric from your legs. You help him along the way, desperate to receive your own pleasure.

Teasingly, he swipes his index finger over the fabric of your underwear, continuing to pepper you with warm kisses on the underside of your jaw. The grip you had on his hair became tighter with every swipe, “Aren’t you wet?” he slyly chuckles, rubbing small circles with his placed finger.

“Stop teasing,” you whine, only causing him to muffle a laugh against your shoulder.

“I just wanna take my timeeeee,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cheek, “Can I take my time?” he pouts, only causing you to roll your eyes, agreeing nonetheless, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pecking you on the lips before continuing, cupping your cheek with his … unoccupied … hand.

“God you’re beautiful,” he says staring at your pleasured expression, a result of the friction between his finger and your underwear becoming more intense.

“Jungkook,” your voice shakes, wanting needing him to do something before the muscles in your leg spasm any more.

“Shh shh not too loud,” he softly mumbles, because considering how drunk the boys’ were, any loud noise and you’d have someone idiotically stumbling into the room in order to find out whatever the noise was. Not wanting you to complain any more, he slips his finger under your underwear, pressing both his middle and index finger to the centerfold of your sex, “Look how wet you are,” he smirks, coaxing another moan from your lips.

Jungkook couldn’t lie, he’d envisioned this moment a couple of times before, but to have it becoming a reality was completely different than what he imagined. It was indeed better.

“I bet you’d love for me to take these off,” he teasingly pretends to pull down your panties, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Please Jungkook,” you cry, how was it possible to already be on the verge of releasing when he hadn’t even done anything explicit yet? He begins to move his fingers up and down your clit, coating his fingers with your wetness, preparing to insert his fingers in your aching hole, “Please—” you attempt to whimper his name again, but his lips passionately kiss you before you get the chance to. It’s once he does that, that the energy in the room shifts, becoming one of playful teasingness to one of passion and love. It’s while he kisses you that he finally sinks his single finger into your pussy, your wetness helping him in gradually picking up the pace until soon enough he’s able to slip in another. Your moan being suppressed by the pressing of his lips against yours, softly nibbling on your lower lip.

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, the squelching sounds coming from your pussy bringing him a sense of pleasure, “Can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispers watching as your eyes lazily roll back, the sight being one he’d remember for a very long time.

“J—Just like that Jungkook,” you manage to stutter out, your arousal dripping in and out of your pussy as he continues with his motions. By now you feel his hardened member kneading against panties, his self-restraint holding on by a string. God, did he wanna fuck your brains out already. Had you been some kind of one night stand and he probably would already be doing so, but you, well you were different. You were his. And he was going to make sure you knew it to.

With his other hand he begins to slide his way under your shirt, caressing your breasts while fingering you, “Take off the shirt,” he mumbles while planting kisses on your neck, and you’re quick to obey, pulling the shirt over your head and uncaringly throwing it onto the floor.

By now you were dressed in only your underwear and bra, which to you seemed a bit unfair and so purposely you begin to play with the hem of his shirt, in hopes that he’d get the message. When he doesn’t, you momentarily stop him from kissing you any further, mumbling a tiny, “Mm take off your shirt,” causing him to let out a breathy laugh. He does as told, exposing the toned torso you’d find yourself frequently gawking over for in the past year. Because truly, his body proportions were insane.

Gently pulling him from his hair, you deepen the kiss by running your other hand across his bare back, the warm skin to skin touch providing another level of intimacy. “Let me eat you out,” he murmurs against your lips, waiting for a simple three letter word so that he can finally pull off your panties.

Instead you give him a small “MmHm,” with a small nod which in this case would suffice as he was sure you were too lost in your own world of pleasure to properly respond. Delicately he removes your underwear, parting your legs in between before lowering his head.

Without saying a word, he runs his finger against your slit, licking and sucking on the fluid that dripped from his finger. What. A. Fucking. Tease. “Jungkooook,” you whine like a brat, the heat you felt below almost unbearable at this point.

“What a pretty pussy,” he rasps, gives your clit a gentle kiss before suckling against it, his saliva mixing with your fluids. Immediately you feel a wave of pure bliss, your fingers slightly trembling at just how good the sudden sensation felt.

“Oh God Jungkook,” you needily whisper once he slips his finger back inside, pushing it deep into your core all while eating you out. Your breathy moans along with the sound of your wet pussy being toyed around with, fill the room. With your eyes half-open, you manage to look down at the sight of Jungkook licking through your folds, his messy hair covering most of his face until you use your hand to push it back, wanting to savor the view in front of you.

“Just look at you,” he groans, admiring the view of your back arched along with your thighs which slightly quivered at the flicks of his tongue, “All fucking mine, you got that?” he asks.

When you don’t respond, he inserts a second finger, catching your attention.

“Yes!” you cry at the sudden jolt of pleasure, his fingers scissoring inside of you, “I’m all yours,” you answer and to that he smirks, curling his fingers inside you. His ego at a level unthinkable. From there he continues to suck and slurp any remnants of your wetness, ignoring your warnings that you were about to orgasm.

It isn’t until he feels a quick rougher than usual tug to the hair followed with a gentle release that he knows you’ve came. Only then does he stop, quickly making his way to sweetly kiss you as you ride through your orgasm. You barely manage to kiss him back, too overwhelmed by orgasm he just brought down on you.

He cups your face once again, making out with you once again even if you were lazily kissing him back, “Jungkook,” you croak out, “Make love to me,” you dazedly whisper, recalling his words from earlier, and without a single word he begins to kiss you again, this time even more passionately (if that was possible) your words triggering a certain fire within him. And despite being in a post-orgasm state, you kiss him with just as much passion as he is doing to you.

By now the two of your hands’ were entangled with each others’ hair, Jungkook roughly pressing his clothed erection against the barity of your pussy. Releasing one of his hands from his hair, he smoothly travels down your back, removing the clasp of your bra with his hand. Deciding not to question his skills, you help further remove it until you’re only left completely nude. Your tits now on full display for him.

He soon begins to tenderly suck on your hardened nipples, one hand caressing the opposing tit whenever he was sucking on one, providing equal attention to both. You begin to play with the button of his black pants, desperately ready to have Jungkook completely inside you. Jungkook notices your lack of patience, deciding that just this time he’d give you what you want.

Pushing himself off you, he begins to unbutton his pants, your heart now beating out of excitement once you see the band of his black boxers. This was really happening. And though you’d seen Jungkook’s cock before, specifically with a woman having it wrapped inside her mouth, to see it this time around was definitely much more shocking than the first…. Was he always this big? The veins that run along his fair-colored cock only add to it’s intimidating appearance.

Pushing himself back on you, he sloppily kisses you all over, from your mouth to the side of your neck, slowly making his way downard. His cock teases the slit of your entrance, coaxing along the delicate folds of your pussy. Intertwining his hand with yours, he looks at you one last time, “You ready?” he breathes out.

Biting your lip, you slowly nod your head yes, his head then slowly pushing into your tight entrance, a groan coming from both of your lips, “God I fucking love you,” he breathily moans beside your ear.

“I love you too,” you whisper in return, his gaze never leaving yours as his cock tortuously enters you inch by inch, the grip you have on his hand tightening with every passing second, “Oh my god,” you whimper, his pre-cum along with your prior wetness making the push inside more bearable.

It isn’t until you’re completely filled up by his cock that he slowly begins to move. Each and every deep thrust garnerning both whines and mewls from you, “Fuck,” he moans, his voice raspy from pleasurable sensation he was feeling. Somehow he manages to continue to plaster kisses all over you, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist as he continues to grind his hips against yours, making nothing but love to you.

Your hot walls now take him with ease, the small pressure you had originally felt having slowly faded away. He keeps his thrusts at a moderate pace, wanting to savor the moment.

“J—Jungkook,” you cry out, feeling your second orgasm coming as you wrap your legs around his waist. He begins to pick up his pace, “Faster,” you moan, remembering that he was definitely okay with having rough sex, considering how many times you’d have to hear other woman moan just how harder they wanted back in the beginning of last year. Who said he couldn’t do the same for you?

“Faster?” he questions, a certain spark now in his eye, “You sure?” eagerly you nod your head yes, too lost in the idea of your possible orgasm to think of the repercussions of your answer. Because soon you find yourself getting completely fucked out, the pace of his thrust becoming almost uncomparable to the pace he was going before, this time not caring at all for rhythm. By now you're sure that your different number of cries and moans could be heard from downstairs, but honestly you could give less of a fuck.

The sound of your skin slapping with his echo against the wooden walls, your eyes screwing shut as you felt your high come. His rapid thrust continuing as he fucks you into oblivion, “Just look at you, creaming on my fucking cock,” he groans, by now sweat was forming on the creases of his forehead, “and to think I get to have you like this all to myself, every single day,” he chuckles, the tight feeling in his abdomen signalling to him that his own release was coming.

“Cum in me Jungkook,” you whine, and with that he does, his white milky cum coating your walls from the inside and out. He admires the view in front of him, the sight of you completely fucked out with his cum dripping from the entrance of your pussy, wondering how he got so lucky.

Out of breath, the two of you cuddle with one another, your eyes half closed, ready to knock out at any moment. But before you do, Jungkook peppers one last kiss onto your cheek, mumbling a final “I love you,” ready for the new memories this year would bring for the two of you.

a/n : ahhhhhh! finally finished with my finals so i was able to finally get this done! for some reason i sorta got attached to this couple, i think it’s because we got to see literally every month of their forming relationship so i just ended up really loving the dynamic between the two lmao. butttt all stories must come to an end :( and i’m very happy with how this story came out, but who knows maybe we’ll this couple again in the future. anywayssss like, reblog, comment, message me an anon or even directly! anything is appreciated (I swear im not a mean person) and ill see yall next time! 💞

mini taglist: @ggukkieland @unicornbabylover

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namistrella · 3 years ago

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how can i resist? 🛒 👀 🤗

Thanks for the ask! Sorry, this is so long!! I got a bit carried away. What can I say? They’re good questions :)

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Oooh I love this question. One of my favorite things to include, particularly in longer fics, are scenes doused in liminality. I'm a little bit obsessed with the idea of it. I keep coming back to liminal spaces, scenes at the threshold of the past and the future, at points in the story where characters have to make a critical choice. For example, in Love Laid Bare (which I swear I haven’t abandoned!) that scene happens in chapter 2 in the empty parking lot outside the diner, at dusk. Simon paces back and forth, having a grand moment of introspection, and he’s waiting for Baz to show up, but isn’t sure if he’s going to go with him or not. (Tiny unimportant spoiler here) He ultimately makes the choice to get in the car with Baz, which kickstarts his arc and the rest of the story. It's a scene that takes place in a classic liminal space (empty parking lot), at the threshold between day and night, and marks a turning point in Simon's life.

Another favorite theme of mine is the idea of second chances. Second chances at love with the right person, second chances at life, second chances at learning and growing and becoming a better person and doing things right the next time around. People, in reality, make a lot of mistakes. So do my characters—and I love to let them make good on the opportunities to fix them!

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Oh god I have so many wips, but none of them (with the exception of LLB that is published, but incomplete) are snowbaz. The two biggest projects I’m working on right now are:

1. An angsty Yuri on Ice fic:

Yuuri quit skating at 18 after he was partially responsible for an on-ice accident that brutally injured Victor’s knee, which never healed enough and eventually forced Victor to quit, too. They find each other ten years later in Michigan, where Yuuri is now a medical resident and Victor manages an ice rink. Victor convinces Yuuri to get back into skating, and they compete against each other in the Adult Figure Skating Championships. They’re well matched against each other, even though Yuuri’s out of practice and Victor’s got his bad knee and hardly anyone even watches the adult competitions and they’re both getting a little old to be jumping around like they used to :) Throughout the fic, Yuuri struggles to let himself fall in love again, both with the sport and with Victor, but he figures it out in the end.

2. A series of three long (20k+ each), interconnected one-shots for Haikyuu:

They’re all in a similar style as All The Things We Don’t Mean, with a nonlinear narrative and short, punchy scenes. Lots and lots of angst across the board, of all different kinds. One is published already here. The second installment, which I’m working on now, follows a different pairing from the first. They were high school sweethearts, but after about ten years, when neither of them is happy, they realize that maybe the reason things are so hard is because neither of them had time to grow on their own. They got together so young and have hardly spent any time apart. So they break up, and the fic starts there, and works through the way they grow apart and change and find themselves and then find their way back together, all of it interspersed with flashback glimpses into the way they fell in love in the first place.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I would say, just go for it! Start writing! Post that first fic, even though it's not perfect. Write what you like and want to see more of, even if it's not everyone's cup of tea.

When I first started, I spent way too much time reading and re-reading my own fics, trying to see them the way everyone else might see them, and trying to make them palatable to everyone. I was SO scared of getting my first negative comment, and worrying about that took a lot of the fun out of writing. Spoiler alert: it's not possible to please everyone, and everyone gets negative comments sometimes, and the level of engagement with your fics (comments, kudos, shares, etc) will go up and down no matter what you do, so you might as well just do what brings you joy!

On a more practical note, I would also recommend finding people you can swap writing with—either as a formal “you both beta each other’s fics” kind of a thing, or as an informal “hey let’s sprint together and share some snippets as we go” or “hey look at this scene I wrote that I think was really good/that I think needs some work”. External feedback is extremely valuable for improving as a writer, but I’ve found it to be way more fun (and less scary, and often more helpfully targeted to what you want and need) when that feedback comes from people you already trust and who know your writing style and likes and dislikes and strengths and weaknesses.

Asks here

#asks

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medea10 · 4 years ago

Text

My Review of Flowers of Evil

How did I get into this anime? Because Flowers of Evil is something no one says, “Oh I want to see that, this looks like a masterpiece”! Oh, I was well familiar with the rotoscope nightmare stories from this and hoped to God my randomizer wouldn’t curse me with watching Flowers of Evil. I was however intrigued to learn that there was a yandere in this anime that’s on Yuno Gasai AND Shion Sonozaki levels. But intrigue can only get me so far when you spend 13 episodes watching…

THIS!

No this is not an exaggeration. Everyone has this kind of cringe face throughout the entire anime series. Be afraid children.

So the story is about this guy named Takao Kasuga. He loves to read and he loves the class smarty-pants Nanako Saeki. He doesn’t just love her, he sees her as his muse and his Venus and all that bullshit. But this is an admiration from afar. Pretty sure Saeki doesn’t even know he exists! One day, Kasuga forgets his book in his classroom. And on the ground, he notices a gym bag that belongs to Saeki. Oh come on, he’s not gonna go down the perverted route and steal a girl’s gym…

So he steals Saeki’s gym uniform. And surprise, one person knew what happened. The class loner, Nakamura! She forces Kasuga to form a contract with her. It wasn’t written or anything, just verbal. However, that doesn’t stop Nakamura from forcing Kasuga to do whatever she wants. But does Nakamura really like Kasuga or is she just into torturing this shit-faced pervert?

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: You know, I’m too thrown off by the animation here that it has temporarily paralyzed me from catching voices or even giving a damn. I’m familiar with only two of the cast mates and the rest is literally my first time hearing it. Okay, I have one comment here. I often forget Mariya Ise could do some damn-ass scary characters like Nakamura. And when she does those murderous screams, forget about it! Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Kasuga is played by Shinichirou Ueda

*Saeki is played by Yoko Hikasa (known for Bea on Pokemon Journeys, Rias on High School DxD, Mio on K-ON!, Hina on Domestic Girlfriend, Kirigiri on Danganronpa, Frieda on Attack on Titan, and Diana on Little Witch Academia)

*Nakamura is played by Mariya Ise (known for Bonnie on Pokemon XY, Levy on Fairy Tail, Ray on The Promised Neverland, Stocking on Panty & Stocking, Mika on Durarara, Dorothy on Black Clover, and Yuuko on Yuri on Ice)

SHIPPING: Oh please, anime Gods, do not turn this into another School Days fiasco. I find myself praying for this a lot these days. But in this anime’s case, please do not go down that route!

So, it was clear from episode one that Kasuga had a crush on Saeki. But this got very perverted very fast when he stole her gym clothes and that lead to the contract with Nakamura. Now is Nakamura romantically invested in Kasuga or is she just a crazy bitch. Let’s chalk this up to a 50-50 split here.

It wasn’t until the fourth episode where Kasuga and Saeki actually spoke to each other. And one episode later, they go on a date and end up in a relationship. One has to wonder if Kasuga would have one day acted on his own and ask Saeki out. All of this happened because he was being forced by that psychopath Nakamura. She tortured this kid and forced him to do so many unethical things. Stripping him naked and putting Saeki’s uniform on him for one! Who does that? So would Kasuga have done these sporadic actions if Nakamura wasn’t in the picture? After he stole that uniform, anything is possible. Now here’s the crazy shit here, Saeki loves Kasuga and she doesn’t care that he stole her gym uniform and did fuck-knows-what with it. She’s mad that Kasuga hid it, but still loves him.

Girl, the fuck is wrong with you?! You must be some special kind of crazy!

By the end of this series, you do see a shift in Kasuga and who he wants to chase after. Saeki or Nakamura?! Let’s just say that during a running away scene, Kasuga was going to go home with Saeki until he saw Nakamura and he chases after her. That’s a pretty good sign that Kasuga has switched gears on who he likes. I won’t delve any further than that as the anime only gives us so much and the rest of this love turmoil between these three characters is covered only in the manga. Probably a sign I should read the manga!

LOOOOOONG NO DIALOGUE MOMENTS: Dude, I know you’re trying to set the mood for certain moments, but I think you can dial it back a bit. This complaint isn’t just what happened at the beginning of episode 9; it took forever to get the main gist of this story in the very first episode. I had no idea what the main premise of the story was until the last five minutes of the first episode when Kasuga stole Saeki’s gym uniform.

Now I’m not knocking serious moments where there is no dialogue between characters for a long period of time and we just watch the animation of them walking or doing something. Hell, Neon Genesis Evangelion had famous scenes like that. But the elevator scene didn’t last six fucking minutes. Neither did the scene where Shinji kills Kaowru. In episode 9, we watch Nakamura and Kasuga walking from the school to home and watch the whole walk after destroying the classroom. I guarantee you, you could leave this episode running, fix yourself a bowl of cereal and toast, eat it up, go to the bathroom to have a good yank, then finish it off with watching a Che Guevara documentary…and Nakamura and Kasuga would still be walking home! I’m exaggerating and I don’t care. I feel like being an asshole here.

OH DEAR GOD, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!: Very rarely will I ever look at an opening or ending theme song in literal fear. In fact, the last one to be so morbid was with Attack on Titan’s second season ending. I mean, the imagery alone should tell you that this is full of spoilers and possessed by the devil itself. Now that I think about it, that’s still undefeated. But Flowers of Evil’s ending theme is a close fucking second. Have you heard this thing? It sounds like Bjork singing in Japanese, synthesized, while a cat walks on a keyboard and having a seizure at the same time. Thank God there are no actual visuals for this other than the flower featured on Kasuga’s book. I don’t think we can handle anymore animation from this nightmare fuel.

ENDING: The writing is on the wall!

And the floor, the ceiling…that classroom is just a fucking mess!

Kasuga’s one bad deed led to another and another in a domino effect. And instead of a little devil on his shoulder, he has a classmate that’s a sociopath. Kasuga has guilt about hiding so much from Saeki in this relationship and he wants to tell her everything he did. Nakamura says, “Nah, you’re going to write it all over the classroom and let the whole world know what a piece of shit you are”. Let’s just say Nakamura and Kasuga went overboard and completely destroyed their classroom. Kasuga gets a bit of a lucky break as the other vandalism covered up his name on the chalkboard confession. But two people have caught onto Kasuga’s crime, Saeki and Kasuga’s mother.

Saeki put two and two together when she noticed the ink smearing on the ground resembled the flower art work on Kasuga’s book “Flowers of Evil” and her stolen gym uniform was placed right there. As for Kasuga’s mother, she put two and two together when she heard what happened to his classroom and noticed Kasuga’s behavior and dirty clothes from the night of the crime. Won’t be long before everyone knows what Kasuga did.

What now, shit-face?

Run away with Nakamura to the next town. Yeah, why the fuck not?! Saeki ends up tracking them down and tried to convince them to come back and for Kasuga to be truthful. Saeki wants Kasuga and I almost want to say the same, except hanging around this psycho-bitch for a while has caused him to try to stop Nakamura from leaving. Having Saeki see Kasuga go after Nakamura isn’t really a good look! At this point, it really feels like his love for Saeki was nothing more than lust.

Dude, isn’t there a rule about not messing with crazy…like, don’t stick your dick in crazy?! This dude has got one crazy bitch on psycho-yandere levels and the other that’s about to turn into Kotonoha from School Days in about five seconds. Well, no one left town today as the police were called to look for Saeki because her parents are overprotective types and they take the other kids in.

We get a small time-leap of one month after the night in the police station. Nakamura’s been ignoring Kasuga and Kasuga ends his relationship with Saeki. Dude, stop trying to stick your dick in crazy! Kasuga tries to speak to Nakamura again and it fails. So he visits her at home and meets Nakamura’s father and grandmother. Then, he sneaks into her room and reads her private journal that talks about Kasuga a lot. Dude, you are stepping in uncharted territory! Drop the journal and get the fuck out before Nakamura comes home. So Nakamura comes in her room and finds shit-face reading her journal.

*sighs*

First, I would like to acknowledge that Mariya Ise has one hell of a throat to scream as much as this crazy bitch does. Second, the fuck did I just say, ya dumbass?! Here we get another chase scene between Kasuga and Nakamura. What follows is…I can’t place my thoughts on this. Weird imagery, out of place dialogue, and possible scenes of future stuff to happen! A rape scene involving Saeki, a festival, a hideout, a knife, and fire! Thanks for the cryptic message guys, really appreciate it! Either the anime ran out of money or they’re fucking with the audience. Kasuga says he wants to form a contract with Nakamura and that’s the end!

Hmm, this anime came out in 2013 and it is now 2021. All the buildup and no word on a sequel! We all know that sequel ain’t ever coming. You have a better chance of a continuation to Haruhi Suzumiya than you do with this hunk of shit.

Okay, maybe ‘hunk of shit’ is too mean. This wasn’t a terrible anime. It was weird as fuck, the animation leaves a bad impression, but overall it wasn’t that bad. Now the manga to Flowers of Evil is a favorite to many. Probably because the characters don’t look like a cringey meme and there aren’t so many awkward pauses with no dialogue. Unless there’s a whole volume of Flowers of Evil out there where we just look at pictures of Nakamura and Kasuga walking home where they don’t say a fucking thing! I am not letting that go! Charlie Brown movies didn’t go to that level you guys did!

I was interested with each passing episode to see what Nakamura was going to do next and what she was capable of. I couldn’t make out if she was going to be homicidal or suicidal or just impact psychological warfare on her prey. It was the latter for this series, but I heard of some attempted seppuku going down in the manga. I’d like to think maybe one day a different studio would pick up this series, but I seriously doubt it with the rotten reception this adaptation received. It was said that the director to the anime saw this more as a live-action series than an anime and that’s why we have the rotoscope animation. It wasn’t until 2019 that we got a live-action adaptation to Flowers of Evil. Not sure how people felt about that adaptation, but even I have a feeling that it was much better than the anime. Hell, a Netflix adaptation probably would have turned out a better product. It would be nice for this to get a reboot, different studio, different director, and smash everything that has the word ‘rotoscope’ on it

Yeah, if you can get over watching the animation, give it a watch. Episode one drags, but it picks up the second Nakamura confronts Kasuga.

If you would like to watch Flowers of Evil, Crunchyroll and Hidive have all 13 episodes available for streaming.

Okay, now that I’m finished with that sociopathic nightmare let’s pick another Sentai Filmworks anime.

HELL NO! I am not reviewing, “My Teacher Accidentally Made Me Horny”. That’s what I’m calling it and you should all do the same. NEXT!

Okay…I have no idea what the hell this anime is, but it looks harmless enough.

#anime review #flowers of evil #aku no hana #takao kasuga #nanako saeki #sawa nakamura

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rebloged-content · 4 years ago

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Recommended Sanders Sides creators

Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

And to the creators in question, I really love your content. If you’ve made it onto this list, you’ve definitely cause one or two sleepless nights of reading for me, because who needs sleep if I can have this, right? XD Whatever you’ll find written next to your name is the impression you’ve left on me and… Well, just know that you’ve made some days of my life at least a little happier, all of you. And I hope to repay the favor by telling you how much I appreciate you releasing your content into this world… Well, repay the favor at least a little, I suppose.

Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404 a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh.

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them.

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time.

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

#I hope it's okay to you I just went ahead and did this #if you don't feel comfortable with this or anything written in here feel free to let me know #also no I didn't check the spelling #I'm too tired to do that anyways #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #recommendations #list

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twstdreams · 4 years ago

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Halloween Haunting: Magicam Mess

Warning: Spoilers for Halloween event; canon divergent CYOA, length: 1K

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Your personal rule is that if everything is going to fall apart it should be after you’ve had a good meal, but the lightning raining down from the sky indicates lunch is going to have to be put on pause for now.

“Hey! They never told us about any thunder! I hate when my fur gets all staticky,” Grim complains. Wheels churn in your mind as you try to formulate a plan that gets you and the tourists out alive. While you’re sure an electrocution or two would teach them a lesson, it’s a little too early to be an accessory to murder.

“I need your help. Just agree with what I say and help me spread a rumour,” you instruct your familiar.

“What? Can’t we just leave?” Grim rebuttals.

“This stamp rally is at our dorm. If things go wrong, the headmaster will punish us too and I know you hate cleaning.” Grim grumbles about this and that but by now you’re a pro at tuning him out. You looked at the top trending hashtags and decided which one to hijack. #perfectflower it is! You upload a photo of a petal, artsy and vague enough to support your lie.

“GREAT SEVEN! I’M GONNA MISS THE SUPER RARE FLOWER!” you scream. Your best acting? No, but it gets everyone’s attention so you blunder on.

“The night-blooming cereus would definitely trend! It only blooms once a year at night. Night Raven College even has a special one that looks like a galaxy,” you add in a voice that most definitely would not be appropriate indoors.

“What’re you talking about?” a tourist beside you inquires, magicam app open on their phone. You refrain from letting the smile on your face turn into a smirk.

“Don’t you know? Near the entrance, beside the big tree, there are several of them planted there. The Pomefiore students take care of them all year and then they bloom around Halloween. It’s why #perfectflower is trending!” you explain, giddy that someone took the bait.

“Let’s go there next after the Draconia challenge!” someone chimes. You grit your teeth to stop yourself from blurting out an insult. If they tried the Draconia challenge, they wouldn’t have a living body for much longer.

“Tonight the holographic one blooms but only for 30 minutes! They don’t exist in the wild, it’s only because of the students. You have to leave right now or you won’t make it in time!” You notice the hesitation as people look in the direction of the entrance and back to Malleus’ casting a storm of spells. While you could stand in awe about their lack of survival skills, truly is it that hard to choose between a pretty rare flower and being murdered by a dragon fae, you decide they need a little push.

“I’m going now. If I take a picture before everyone else, mine will be most popular.” You turn around and start walking with so much faux confidence maybe even Vil would compliment you unlikely but Rook would. You’re rewarded with the sound of fast footsteps, a couple of people even breaking it out into a run. There aren’t any flowers there, but you hope that the people regulating the front gate will be able to kick them out.

By the time you loop around, out of sight of the Magicam Monsters you just tricked, you notice Lilia and Malleus talking. Luckily the sky has cleared up and you don’t see any charred corpses on the ground, yet the bitter expression on Malleus’ face remains. You approach his side but the magic words to turn his frown into a smile escape your mind. Even after Lilia greets you, you’re unsure of what sentence is the right answer, so you hope sincerity is enough to carry you through.

“How are you doing?” you ask. It’s not anger or annoyance you’re met with, but the forlorn look in his eyes pierces your heart.

“I apologize. I chose Ramshackle as a stamp rally location. I just wanted you to enjoy Halloween too. However, I never imagined that it would bring so much trouble,” Malleus admits.

“It’s not your fault. It’s theirs for not following the rules.” Your words are true but they don’t seem to placate the dorm leader given the tight line his lips form. “Let’s go for a walk. I think we’ve both had enough of crowds for now.”

You tug on his hand and Malleus unexpectedly follows without resistance, though you’re unsure if the pink dusting his cheeks is from exhaustive use of magic or something else. You let out a complaint and Malleus reciprocates with one in turn. By the time you’ve wandered far away from the bustle of the stamp rally, neither of your problems are solved, but you both feel better after confiding in each other. Your hands are still linked together, your fingers aren’t intertwined but your grip isn’t loose either.

Eventually, the topic turns to lighter topics that bring a smile to your visage. Comparing Halloweens, stories of lighting things on fire, pumpkin carving, favourite treats, promises to try pumpkin pie ice cream together. But all good things come to an end and the serenity comes to an end saying that you HAVE to go to the Main Street.

And it turns out, your horrid day hasn’t ended because the Great Seven statues are toppled over and missing. Accusations are thrown and both student and staff alike are in shock. It’s one thing to litter waffles, it’s another to destroy statues of renowned magicians who represented the proud dorms.

“Tomorrow, the Halloween party might have to be cancelled,” Crowley adds. Troubled expressions morph into ones of shock and outrage. Disagreement is abound but the staff don’t budge due to concerns of students being harmed.

“The party will be held if the Magicam Monster problem is solved, right?” you ask. When Crowley gives you the confirmation, you plaster on a disappointed look as the wheels in your brain turn. The staff leave to gather the others and host a meeting but from the look in Jade’s eye, you can tell the other students are on the same page as you though Jade seems to always have that calculating gleam in his eyes.

“You have a point,” Azul acknowledges.

“We just have to chase away the Magicam Monsters from our campus,” Jade agrees and you can see several people around you having a lightbulb moment.

“We can confirm if they’re Magicam Monsters by seeing if they violate rules,” Vil states, dispelling worries about how to accomplish such a task.

“I’ll punch them away!” Deuce exclaims. You’re sure he’d follow through and that’s the problem.

“That’ll just make this a problem with the police,” Ace counteracts.

“We can’t just use magic attacks on them either, they’re going to figure out it’s not a security system,” Idia rebuttals when a couple of students suggest just flinging Magicam Monsters across campus. You know Idia’s right but you think it’d be very satisfying to toss yeet them away like garbage.

“Haaahaahaha!~” Floyd laughs, “You’re thinking so hard about this. The answer is easy to figure out.”

“Now, don’t laugh at them,” Jade chides while chuckling and baring his teeth. You’ve never seen someone act less sincere but you know better than to antagonize the leech twins.

“It is eating a delicious meal with everyone!” Kalim declares. You’re certain that’s not what the Octavinelle trio is thinking, free food is never their first bet, but you appreciate his sunshine disposition.

“Haaah... Rich kids really are impossible. We should make them feel uncomfortable and scare them away,” Ruggie explains.

“A night hunt under the moonlight! Magnifique! I can’t wait,” Rook exclaims. He has the same dreamy look in his eyes as when he envisions capturing his prey.

Which team do you want to help scare away the Magicam Monsters?

Heartslabyul’s Graveyard: Time to bury some secrets and maybe even a Magicam Monster or two

Savanaclaw’s Pirate ship: Who says the swords are fake even if the curse is?

Octavinelle’s Lab: Few are as good at deception at this dorm, and you’ve been itching to throw some Magicam Monsters into a personal sci-fi horror story

Scarabia’s Wereworlf curse: You hate bugs with a vengeance and scaring away rude tourists is better than lighting school property on fire. But will Kalim be able to scare everyone?

Ignihyde’s Spooky Night: Otakus wronged and the tech to bring horrors to life makes for an interesting combo that’s sure to leave a couple of people scarred.

Diasomnia’s Haunted Scare: Will revenge be as sweet as ice cream? You’re about to find out. The Magicam Monsters wanted so badly to get into your dorm, might as well let them in and have some fun with it!

Main Street’s Ghostly Hunt: If they’re bold enough to topple statues and take pictures on their pedestals, surely they can face a grim reaper after their life?

#twst x reader #twst CYOA #twst halloween event #twstdreams #haunted dreams #long fic

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twdmusicboxmystery · 4 years ago

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Beth/Eugene Entanglement Part 5 — Miscellaneous

Okay, so I should have posted this like a month ago. I found it buried in my drafts. For now, it’s kind of be a catch-all for things @wdway has found but I haven’t posted yet. I doubt this will be the last Eugene/Beth post, but it’s the last of what I have right now. Prior to S11. Just know that this isn’t one cohesive theory, but rather random bits and pieces. Maybe it will spark something for someone who reads it. Here we go.

Symbol Shift from FG to Eugene:

@wdway:

Father Gabriel has been a Sirius radio communication symbol, which is a symbol of two of our three monkeys, hearing and speaking (hear no evil, speak no evil) and has been since s8e11 Dead or Alive Or. This thought occurred to me after seeing so much of Eugene on the radio, especially with Stephanie. It's basically been his theme for this season. At some point, I realized that the more we have seen Eugene in this situation, the less we have seen FG with the radio.

Let's take a look at the first time we see the symbols around FG from Dead or Alive Or. His infected, bloodshot eyes, the radio (hearing, speaking). There’s a phoenix in this scene as well.

In s9e, Who Are You Now? We see that they must have gone back to the Radio Shack and brought the equipment to AZ. The room is filled with symbols the radio, the pink clay pig that has held keys to a vehicle is mysteriously back together on the table, so they have moved the symbols to AZ and FG is the prime radio operator. This episode also is where we really see Eugene start to become a Beth symbol with a braided hair and his mission to help Rosita put up the radio antenna on the white water tower, which results in him getting a leg injury so very reminiscent of Beth in Alone.

This season in e1, Lines We Cross, is the beginning of the major shift of connecting the radio to Eugene rather than FG. There are two short scenes of FG transmitting on the radio and that's the last time we actually see him. We hear him occasionally, but we no longer see him with the radio.

This is the episode that made me realize the shift because after we see the satellite falling, Eugene runs to radio Oceanside. We have the shift.

We have a great shot of Eugene and the Phoenix. The camera circles around and there is a prominent shot of the bright light along with the radio and Eugene. (Bright light focusing on someone is the equivalent to tree and trunks for @frangipanilove) The light is a huge symbol of Beth to me because of all the focus lights that were around her at Grady.

The rest of the season mostly when we see Eugene, he is at his radio station at Hilltop, speaking primarily to Stephanie. He is the new radio communicator. He represents hearing and speaking symbols which leaves FG as our Sirius seeing symbol.

Pearl/Pearl Harbor stuff

*Quick note: the three of us have discussed Pearl Harbor as a military symbol and also a water/aquatic symbol in deep detail long before this post. But I couldn’t find our previous discussions without scrolling back through months and months of messages. So if it sounds like we’re referring to earlier conversations, we are. ;D*

Eugene in the attic at Hilltop, working on the radio equipment. He's talking to Rosita when there is a spark and he says "Mother of Pearl." We talked about this just the other day when we were discussing pearls in song lyrics and I noted that Pearl Harbor is one of the most famous military bases in the world, which could make this a military reference. And of course, @Frangi, you have a ton of things from you've searched about pearls. Bottom line: this is a water reference.

Biblical References:

Yesterday, I had an epiphany that is also a biblical reference. At least the word pearl. And I cannot believe that we haven't thought about this before. This is from the King James version.

Matthew 7:6, “Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your peals before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.”

Some very key words here. It mentions dogs, pearls, swine, which is another word for pigs, trample them under their feet. The word “them” has been used to refer to walkers many times, under their feet, pigs feet.

Another take on it I want to share with you is when Eugene says, "Mother of pearl," he is upset because the radio sparked, it felt somewhat like a curse which made me think of his mentor Abraham always using the term "Son of a Dick." So that gives a female reference, the other a male reference.

Later in the episode, Eugene is trying to contact Rosita, and she doesn't answer because she's sick and at the clinic, so he puts out a general call. Anyone out there? Greetings, this is Tater bug calling live over open channels. Anyone out there? Give us a copy.

I think most people like myself feel that it was a call back to Aaron in the episode Them. I feel strongly that's how it's intended to be interpreted, especially with what happened in the dialogue that is used towards the end of the conversation, which I'll get to later.

Here is what Aaron said when first approaching Maggie and Sasha. "Hey, I didn't mean to interrupt. Good morning. My name is Aaron. Oh, I know, stranger danger, but I am a friend. I would like to talk to the person in charge. Rick, right? I have good news."

Now for the bible, again from King James, Luke 2:10, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” I won't spend any more time on the parallels between the two I think they're pretty obvious.

Eugene later, "This is Tater bug over open-air, surfing on proverbial radio waves. Any interested ear holes? Come back." He changes channels. "Anyone, anywhere, this is Tater bug." This time he gets a reply from Stephanie. "Hello Tater bug, I'm receiving you loud and clear, are you really out there?"

Very interesting and, for us, at least, obvious. Ear holes is a reference to ears, calling out for anyone, anywhere. He uses a bible reference by using the word, proverbial. Words like radio waves, radio = Sirius, waves = water. Waves could also mean to make waves, upsetting the establishment and then we have Stephanie coming back with her response of surprise and the question, are you really out there? A shock at finding someone out there.

@twdmusicboxmystery: Just breaking in to also point out that the song at the end of Still, Up the Wolves, talked about air waves as well. Just saying. ;D

Suspicious Dialogue:

@wdway: I'm going to go through a bit more of the strange dialogue. I don't think this is any huge sign pointing to Eugene's storyline as much as they're using him to throw out phrases and words, sometimes that have multiple meanings or give pause to what they might want to point at. A reminder that this dialogue is from the episode Bond. I will not rehash the entire saying, just pick out something phrases.

Eugene talking on the radio to Stephanie, talking about growing up and visiting Pennsylvania. "Locomotives were my jam." Here, the word jam has multiple meanings. The first and what I believe is intended here is that trains, locomotives were his special, happy hobby, something he loved that he could really get into.

The word jam can also refer to being in trouble, a situation that you want to get out of. It is exactly how episode 16 ended with Eugene and company in a jam.

@twdmusicboxmystery: Also, in Alone, Daryl ate *jam*! ;D

@wdway: This next one for some reason just nagged at me and I kept going back to the sentence until it hit me why it seems odd. "My parents purchased a pair of tickets to the 1995 train Fair Expo."

Well, the thing that kept nagging at me is that unless definitions have changed, the word pair refers to 2 and if his parents (both since there is an "s" on the end) purchased a pair of tickets then they're one ticket short. It's a little thing, but I felt like what they were going for was the word pair or two. Which sent me down the rabbit hole.

In the series, there are lots of 2's. Some are more obvious than others. There are several pairs of couples in the series, for example: Rick and Michonne, Maggie and Glenn, Sasha and Abraham. These are the easy ones, but we see tons of instances of the numbers 2 and 22.

Moving on to the next weird dialogue phrase. Eugene talks about the black raspberry ice cream I discussed that last week. It's the name of the ice cream parlor that I want to talk about it's called The Inside Scoop. That’s a reference to a large spoon/ladle. The Big Dipper, with the North Star at its end.

It occurred to me that that's a really odd name for an ice cream parlor. Then I realized the writers might be having a little fun here. The inside scoop can refer to newspaper or some form of media getting the jump on a story, getting the inside goods. I thought of all the times that the spoiler site had the inside scoop on what was going on in a TWD episode. When this episode was written, they were still up and running. I also like to think it could be a nod to TD.

Now we come to the second Aaron dialogue reminder. Eugene wants to continue his and Stephanie's radio conversation. She says, "you could be a threat." Eugene volunteers to share information. Stephanie replies that she could be the threat to him. After thinking this over, Eugene says, "I have a twinge in my belly that says that you lean toward the good column of the alignment. I do know you." He then gives her his real name and asked if they can continue to talk.

Forget, s5e13. Aaron to Daryl: "The main reason why I want you to help me recruit is because you do know the difference between a good person and a bad person." Eugene wants to believe that Stephanie is a good person because of their conversations. And since he survived by reading the people around him, he probably is a decent judge of people.

I was pretty much done with this. Then I thought I should check out Morningstar. I had felt that I had pretty well covered that in previous messages, but lo-and-behold, I found a couple things that I feel are worth mentioning.

Near the beginning of the episode, when Eugene and Stephanie realize they are not that far apart, and talk of a possibility of meeting, Eugene said, "I can't help but believe that this is a celestially ordained meet and greet."

My first thought was Aaron and his meet and greet with Maggie and Sasha. And then I thought "celestially ordained," is very biblical sounding. It points to Beth being a Christ figure and we're waiting for her Resurrection.

This next one I really loved. Later on, right after Eugene stops singing, Stephanie finishes the song. Eugene tells her she "has great chops, singing chops that is." A singing reference. Stephanie says to Eugene, "I'm sorry for disappearing."

Oh, my Bethyl heart! My mind went straight to Alone when Beth called out the last words she ever spoke to Daryl, "I won't leave you!" Then she disappeared. She was just gone. I have this head canon that this is absolutely something Beth will someday say to Daryl.

It also seemed odd for Stephanie to use the word "disappearing," which to me is a physical act of leaving, taking your person, your body away. Stephanie stopped talking to Eugene. She went silent. She obviously did not disappear because she heard him singing. She was still present.

The last dialogue is from A Certain Doom. After the bike accident, the group is trying to get Eugene to continue. He is sad and frustrated that they have lost too much time and it will be pointless. Eugene says, "unless it involves slowing the passage of time." How could we not possibly think of....

Here's one that occurred to me not too long after I had talked about Daryl's I Never game. His statement of "I never got anything from Santa Claus." The one that always breaks all our hearts and the hope that getting Beth back will be the ultimate Christmas gift. In reviewing the episodes with Eugene, and especially spending quite a bit of time on the episode Morning Star, the light bulb came on and I finally saw the obvious.

Santa Claus is a figure with a pure heart that gives gifts to children. Daryl is no longer a child, at least not a physical child, although at times he can pretty much be a big kid, haha. So, it's only fitting that his Santa Claus gift actually comes from a child with a brave but innocent heart. (Judith)

I think this truly fits. It's not a new piece of clothing, but it's a renewed one. It has been resurrected. His angel wings repaired with Christmas Stars on blue. I love this idea and hope you guys do too.

TwdMusicBoxMystery:

Okay, special thanks to @wdway for digging up all these clues and putting them together for us! I wouldn’t have had the time to go through all the episodes she did, so I’m very grateful that she’s willing to share her findings.

As I said at the beginning, this is far from the last thing you’ll hear about Eugene. I reserve the right to do more posts in the future. :D Thoughts?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #BETH IS COMING #beth is alive #td theory #td theories #i love team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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silverhandy · 4 years ago

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I saw the devil (in me) - chapter 2

contains some heavy spoilers for the devil ending

chapter 1 I ao3

If he was expecting a profound sign that V is gone, he found none. Night City was just as Takemura remembered it - crowded, flashy, and devoid of taste, both figuratively and literally. Vendors were outshouting one another, each determined to lure a potential client into an inevitable culinary disappointment. Takemura found himself navigating through the busy market that an unfortunate shortcut led him through. In hindsight, he should have ordered a cab and arrive at the address Viktor provided unscathed and in a much shorter time, but he felt the need to stretch his legs, or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself. He still had plenty of time before the memorial service started and he didn’t want to arrive either too early or too late - the first one would no doubt result in a lot of uncomfortable silence and the latter would make it seem like he didn’t care. Takemura wasn’t too keen on either of these options and that meant a long stroll through the city.

He could never grasp why V seemed to like this place so much. She spoke about it often, cursing corporations, gangs, and ever present exploitation to kingdom come, but she also seemed to fit in like a perfect piece of the puzzle, a small, but necessary cog in a living, breathing machine. She moved through it freely, her loud confidence and necessary caution interchanging in a wild dance that made the entire city spin. Where V shined, Takemura found himself losing rhythm, coming from the strict, organized world of the Arasaka military, and eventually realizing that he’d never learn the dance that made one feel at home in a place like this.

As he approached Vista del Ray, a strong smell of old frying oil and fish gave way to more subtle scents, identical all around the world in places like this, Heywood or Shinjuku, it didn’t matter. Cigarette smoke floating up and chasing the wind, too much cologne on a young, elegantly dressed men that almost bumped into him, too focused on going through his emails to look ahead, a dinner burnt, tenants desperately attempting to air the apartment by opening a window as wide as it would go, which unfortunately for them wasn’t very far. All of that mixing, shifting, evolving into what could only be called a smell of desperation and longing for an opportunity.

Takemura left the main street and turned left into an alley, feeling the intense stares of a group of young men leaning heavily on a graffiti-covered, brick wall. He knew the type, so he just gave them a warning glare, aiding them in measuring the odds. As expected, none of them approached him, having done the math and realizing that they stand no chance. He wasn’t a local, so maybe if they stumbled upon someone else like him they’d go for it, but Takemura had Arasaka written all over his features, suit and tech.

El Coyote Cojo seemed like a bar identical to many others, but the second Takemura walked through the door, he was sure he was in the right place. There was no music playing, the room filled with a murmur of hushed conversations between all the people who came to say their final goodbyes. And there were quite a lot of them. Takemura felt the corners of his lips go up in a sad smile. Of course, V had a lot of people who’d want to be here, the open suite full of them, standing in their small, respective groups, some around the tall tables, others hunched over their drinks at the bar. From where Takemura was standing, he hardly saw any familiar face, but then again, in those short few weeks he got to know V, there wasn’t much opportunity to get to know all the people she was close with. There was no time for that and more importantly, he didn’t feel like it was his place to intrude into her personal life. After all, they were just coworkers, of sorts, helping each other towards a common goal.

That is, until that stakeout on the roof. If Takemura was to pinpoint a moment where he could in full confidence call V a friend, it was those few hours they spent going over the entry points to Arasaka Industrial Park, analyzing the routes of transports going in and out, coming up with yet another idea how to get in without getting shot on the spot.

Then they got pizza and the conversation naturally shifted into something more casual, them reminiscing on their pasts and their futures. How different things were back then. V in what might’ve been her best, determined to get her life back and him doing the same.

It seemed none of them got what they wanted.

Someone passed next to him, whispering something about him getting a move on under their breath, and only then did Takemura realize that he was still standing in the doorway, staring somewhere above the heads of the mourners. Glad that he hadn't caught the attention of everyone in the room, he took a few steps forward and then, finally, he noticed Viktor, waving at him from his seat at the edge of the bar.

When Takemura approached him and took a seat next to the ripperdoc, the first thing he noticed was that Viktor looked noticeably older, dark circles under his eyes only adding to the feeling. Dressed in a classy, black suit that sure has seen better days, Viktor looked out of place, almost like...

"I was already thinkin’ you wouldn't make it." he started, mindlessly rolling the nearly empty glass in his hand. "How was your flight?"

Small talk, then.

"Good enough, thank you." then, after a moment of deliberation, Takemura added. "I usually do not fly commercial."

"Oh? What on earth stopped Arasaka’s golden boy from taking an AV?" Viktor asked, calling a bartender with a wave of his hand.

Takemura hesitated for a moment, but before the looming pressure of every passing second making the situation more awkward had a chance to set in, the bartender, a tall, heavily tattooed Latino man approached them to take his order.

"Just water, please." the bartender’s brow shot up, as if asking Takemura if he was sure, especially considering the occasion, but seeing that his client wouldn’t backtrack, he simply pulled up a glass. When it was full, two cubes of ice clinking inside, Takemura looked back at Viktor, still patiently waiting for his answer.

"My higher ups don’t exactly know that I am here." he finally said, taking a sip from his glass to wash down the ping of anxiety he felt swelling up the moment he mentioned his unauthorized trip across the ocean. Not that it mattered anymore. The sword laid at the bottom of his suitcase, carefully wrapped in silk, just waiting for him to get some closure he apparently longed for so desperately.

This time, Viktor’s brow shot up.

"No leave to mourn a friend?"

"I’m afraid they would not consider it a reason important enough to neglect my duties."

"You clearly did."

"Yes, fully aware of the consequences that await. But I could not miss it, I suppose I needed some…"

"Closure? And they wouldn’t let you have that? No wonder they call it a soul sucking job. Sorry to pry, but why don’t you just quit? Put in a two months notice or somethin'?"

"It does not work like that. Not when you have been there for as long as I have."

Viktor clearly wanted to say something, but just as he opened his mouth, everyone present started walking up to the area on the left from the bar, gathering around a small table covered in freshly lit candles, V’s photo in the middle. She was smiling, little reflections of the candle flames dancing in her eyes. V’s hair was shorter than Takemura remembered, it must’ve been taken well before they met. In a better time.

It was Viktor who stood in front of the crowd to address them. His voice sounded strained at first, unusually high, but he cleared his throat, once, twice and didn’t let his voice break even once. He spoke with confidence, yet calmly, the same reassuring voice Takemura remembered from when he ended up in his clinic alongside V, with multiple gunshot wounds and some more or less minor lacerations.

After Viktor was done, a young woman with colorful hair took his place. Clearly battling with her shaking voice, she told about the time she and V went diving in the ruins of her childhood hometown. How she still had the camera that V fished out for her and how she’s still trying to fix it, but even if she won’t be able to bring such an antique back to life, a braindance they recorded together will keep a piece of V alive forever. After that, people started taking turns, each with their little story of what V meant for them. Takemura couldn’t quite focus, each new face blending with another, a never-ending litany composed of the good deeds of a woman that no longer was among them. When it was his turn to speak, Takemura hesitated.

"I did not know V for as long as most of you, but I am honored to have been able to call her a friend."

And that was it.

***

"A lot of people came."

"I’d say a third of them were fixers from every single part of this fuckin’ city. Never took them for a sentimental type."

"Me neither."

"You know...you know what she told me in those last few weeks? “Viktor, if you dare to shed a single tear at my funeral, I swear I’ll rise up from the dead again and kick yer sorry ass”. It was one of the last things she told me, anyway. Couldn't really speak much later on." Viktor took another swing from the bottle, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of an already ruffled suit jacket.

Takemura didn’t ask how V was doing in those last moments. Didn’t need to, when he arrived at the clinic professor Kusama didn’t spare him any of the details. Quite the opposite, she was elaborate, listing all the end-stage symptoms in a cold, clinical tone. Upon hearing them, a thought crossed his mind that if it was about him, he’d beg to be copied and stored into Mikoshi. But not her. V wasn’t a coward like him and faced her death the way he’d never be able to.

"Viktor, I am..so deeply sorry." he just muttered, unable to form anything more concise. What was he supposed to say, anyway? How did his remorse and guilt compare to Viktor’s pain, who got a front row seat seeing all the ways V was withering away, day by day? Who must’ve spent hundreds of hours at her bedside, making sure that she’s comfortable in those last moments while Takemura spent those months bundled away in an office reviewing mountains of meaningless documents, too scared to even call her?

"Nah." Viktor waved his hand, almost knocking over Takemura’s glass. "She wouldn’t want us to mope like this. Imma be okay soon enough. After all, grieving is a process and all that. What about you? Been holdin’ up okay?"

"Yeah." Takemura said, but his voice came out coarse. He cleared his throat. "As much as circumstances allow."

Viktor hummed, clearly not convinced. For a second Takemura was sure the other man would push the matter, but he dropped it. Two shots of tequila seemingly materialized on the counter before them when Takemura wasn’t looking, too focused on Viktor and his own thoughts.

"How ‘bout just this one and we call it a day?" Viktor asked, taking the glass into his hand.

"I suppose it can’t do any harm." Takemura replied, raising his own glass. "To V?"

"To V."

***

Paradoxically, only when cigarette smoke filled his lungs he could finally take a deep breath. He excused himself a few minutes after their fourth round of shots. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy Viktor’s company, but the doctor was too perceptive for his own good and with each sip of alcohol chipping away his composure, Takemura felt that steel grip on his throat grow tighter and tighter.

He was alone in an alley right next to the entrance, cold winter air slowly sobering him up. Most guests have already left, only a few hindered behind, talking in the same, lowered voices he heard before. Not like he could hear any of that through the music, an old rock song he couldn't recall. Takemura slowly exhaled, a cloud of smoke dulling the air in front of him. It was time.

"Do you mind?" a woman's voice, right next to him. Takemura cursed under his breath. He was getting careless, much too distracted for his own safety. He turned his head and to his relief, he recognized her. A friend of Viktor’s, this tiny blonde woman, she ran some kind of an esoteric shop in the front. Misty was her name. They chatted a few times during the weeks Takemura would drop by the clinic to check on V.

"Not at all." he replied and moved a little to the side, making room for her to lean on the brightly painted wall. She didn’t take the invitation and remained standing, her big, brown eyes staring at him in a mix of emotions he could only describe as pity. Or maybe it was concern? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"You know," Misty started, her voice even softer than Viktor’s during his speech. "your pain is not lesser than his."

Takemura’s hand froze halfway from taking another drag of the cigarette. "Excuse me?"

"I’m just saying you shouldn’t cut yourself off. Viktor does that too, but not like this. The pain will not disappear if you keep running from it. It’ll just chase you up, no matter what you do. It’s better to make peace with it."

He didn’t know what to say. If he was in his right mind, he’d probably make up an excuse and walk away, but her words struck a chord in him that made him freeze, not daring to move even a little.

"I have made peace with it" he finally said, putting out the cigarette on the stone wall. He’ll find a trash can to throw it in later.

"I’m not the one you need to convince, Goro."

"I..I am sorry, but I have to go. My return flight leaves in a few hours."

Misty gave him a sad smile.

"I hope you’ll soon see that you’re exactly in a place you’re supposed to be in."

#goro takemura #goro takemura/viktor vector #viktor vector #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 spoilers #takemura/viktor #the devil ending #serving only big sad today #writing

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jayankles · 5 years ago

Text

Your Turn

Pairing: No pairing; general Dean fic

Word Count: 2016

Summary: Dean and his wife are woken up by their baby, his wife encourages him that it’s his turn to take care of her.

Written for: @spngenrebingo / @goodthingshappenbingo / @spndeanbingo / @spnaubingo

Squares Filled: playing pretend / pillow forts / Bobby Singer / single parent au

Also for @sdavid09 ’s bingo challenge. The square filled is below to avoid spoilers.

A crying baby is what woke them. She snuck her hand around Dean’s waist and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “It’s your turn, baby.”

“I know. I got her. Go back to sleep.” He rubbed her hand before bringing it up for a kiss. “Alright, baby girl, daddy’s coming.”

Dean sat up, the palms of his hand digging into his eyeballs, rubbing the sleep from them. He got up, his feet stepping into his comfortable slippers. Grabbing his robe, he tied the belt loosely around his waist, he was ready for action to get his daughter to sleep.

“Come on, Lilah.” Dean leaned over with a small smile on his face, even though Delilah was sobbing her heart out, it didn’t matter. All he saw was a healthy happy baby that just wanted cuddles from her daddy. “You wanna cuddle with Daddy? Before you wake Scarlett because the two of you in the morning is a nightmare. You don’t know how outnumbered I am with you girls.”

Lilah continued to cry but as soon as Dean picked her up from the crib she calmed a little, her cries settling a little after she nestled into his chest. She loved her father so much but Dean loved Delilah a little more, she had him completely wrapped around her tiny little fingers. All she had to do was smile and he was gone.He was all hers. Any of his girls could have him at the blink of an eye, a snap of their fingers, or something as simple as a smile.

When she started to fuss again, Dean started with a hum, he couldn’t figure out which song to sing, about three of them roaming around in his mind. After a few minutes of humming ‘Hey Jude,’ he finally decided on ‘Baby Mine’ from the Disney movie Dumbo. It was the only song that worked with Scarlett when she was younger and it was his wife’s favourite song to sing her too; as he sung the words Dean rocked too and fro. Delilah’s little hands balled into Dean’s shirt but he soon noticed that they had loosened and her breathing had evened out.

After he was sure that Delilah had conked out for a few more hours, he laid her back in her crib, draping the light blanket back over her, softly rubbing her stomach. “Goodnight, Lilah. See you in a few hours, Sweetheart.”

Walking down the hallway, Dean checked on Scarlett. She was adorable, of course, snuggling her stuffed octopus. She was rocking the bedhead vibe as always, something that he would have to fix in the morning. He wouldn’t tell her but he loved brushing Scarlett’s hair and secretly watching the hair tutorials to see which style he could help Scarlett pull off for school.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He whispered, closing the door behind him and heading back to bed. He would need all the sleep he could get.

Sneaking under the covers, he whispered once more. “I love you, mama, goodnight.”

“Yay! Grandpa Bobby is here!” Dean said, his eyes finding Scarlett’s before her face lit up like a Christmas tree. It had been a while since the girls had seen their Grandpa. Their favourite one at that.... Or their only Grandpa, but it was nice to be loved.

“Grandpa!” Scarlett dropped her toys and quickly made her way over into Bobby’s arms. “Can we goto the park today? Get some secret ice cream?”

She was a terrible whisperer, he would have to teach her a few tricks of the trade so her father wouldn;t be able to hear her the next time she spoke of any innocent secret.

“You know I can hear you, right? And if you go for secret ice cream without me , there will be no My Little Pony.” Dean got up from his extra small seat, taking Delilah with him. “I don’t say this enough but thank you for being retired, Bobby Singer.”

“Are you just using me for a free babysitting service, boy?” There was a stern look on his face as usual but it melted away as soon as Scarlett spoke.

“I can pay you with hugs and kisses.”

“Did you put her up to that?”

“Absolutely not. I would never put your own granddaughter against you.” Dean smiled, a devious one like this was a plan that he had concocted but in all honesty, he had nothing to do with it. “I will see you later.”

He waits for Scarlett to jump down before giving Delilah over to Bobby. He plans a soft kiss to the baby’s head. He moves on to his first born, crouching down to the floor and adjusting the toggle on her hoodie that she wears so often.

“I’ll make you a deal. You be good for Grandpa, he can get you some ice cream as long as you get me some and stick it in the freezer. If you do that, we’ll have a movie night at the weekend.”

“I wanna do that, yes. Lots of sweets and chocolate and popcorn.” She almost dies at the fact that she’s going to have a movie night. Dean has something else planned first and it was something that he had hoped that they would love even more than just a movie.

As much as Dean hates it, he has to go, has to leave them and go to work. He had already taken a long break but he knew he had to go back. It was time. Dean couldn’t bear to part with his girls, not even for a minute but he had to.

His coworkers welcome him back with open arms. It had been a rough few months but he was hanging in there. His best friend, Benny, held him so tight that he was afraid he would lose him; Benny may have also broken a few of Dean’s ribs but he loved it more than he would care to admit.

“Good to see you, brother.” Benny gave him one more squeeze before releasing him.

Dean just nodded, his words caught, he couldn’t say anything with his heart in his throat. He gave Benny a slap on the back before he took a step back and coughed, masking his pain.

By the time lunch rolled around, Dean was a lot more tired than he thought he would be, the long nights that he had with the girl had really taken its toll on him. Maybe he shouldn’t have rushed back to his job.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his lunch box and his small bottle of pills. Dean had got accustomed to taking the meds ever since Lilah was born, it was one of the many things that he remembered to do each and every day. Dean knocked down the two daily pills, swallowing them with a drink of water.

Dean had taken a bite of the second slice of his sandwich before he put it back down in the box, his fingers running through his slightly longer hair. Inhaling, he tried to keep calm and keep himself from crying, he had done well so far, and had only thought about the situation twice today. But it still didn’t stop the pain that he was feeling, he just wanted to get back to his family back home. The pills would kick in and bring him back down to the dark reality that he was living.

Benny came in not too long after Dean did, neither man said anything, not for a long time and it was beginning to get awkward. The pair hadn’t seen each other since just before Lilah was born a few months ago, there had been texts and calls, keeping up with each other seeing how Dean was holding up and asking whether or not he needed any help around the house. Dean kindly refused Benny’s help, thanking him for his offer and telling him that he was welcome to come over to the house and see Lilah and Scarlett whenever he wanted, when he returned to work. He just needed that time with the kids before he shared them with anyone else. Benny completely understood, any other time, he would have chewed his ass about spending all his time with his babies but Benny knew that he needed to spend this time with them.

“Sorry, I dipped.” Dean muttered, popping an orange slice into his mouth, Scarlett had helped him make his lunch before he put her to bed last night. The thought alone made him smile a little bit. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, you deserved better.”

Benny gave a lopsided smile, “it’s all good, I know your struggles.”

“It’s still no excuse, man.” “Listen, if you’re still beating yourself up about it... how ‘bout you and your girls come over to my place and we’ll have a barbecue. Andrea can take a load off and help with the kids and you can cook your famous burgers that you know we love and I’ll do my steaks. We got you, brother.”

Dean was left speechless, he truly couldn’t believe the kindness of his best friend, even though Dean felt as if he had treated Benny like shit, Benny still had his back.

Turning the key in the door, Dean stepped into his house, and the house that he had made a home. The house was somewhat quiet and he wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign or a bad sign. He threw his bag and coat into the closet, strolling through the house and going in search of his girls. Dean then got to the living room, his heart soaring as he watched Bobby and Scarlett interact. The two of them sing to Delilah, trying to stop her from crying, so far it was working and they got little smiles out of her.

“How are my favourite people in the whole wide world?”

“Daddy!” “Dada!” Scarlett and Delilah screamed when they saw Dean leaning on the door frame with a soft smile on his face.

“Now, how about a pillow fort and a movie, yeah?”

Dean quickly got changed into his nightwear, whilst Bobby helped Scarlett into hers. Dean had taken the time to start creating the best pillow fort that he had in awhile. It was difficult at first, Lilah crying when she didn’t get enough of Dean’s attention but he finally strapped her into his chest in one of the carrier contraptions that he so hated to put together, his wife was always better at that stuff, especially the car seat straps.

The couches cushions were first to join the comforter on the floor. Broomsticks and chairs and furniture were moved around so Dean could create a canopy over the television. It would be the perfect, comfortable, little getaway for them. Dean was ready for Scarlett to put in the finishing touches and pick the movie. He couldn’t wait to spend the night with his babies watching Scarlett’s favourite Disney movie for the thousandth time since it came out. It was a surprise when Bobby decided to stay and bring in all the snacks; the popcorn, the gummy bears and the juice boxes even for Dean and himself.

Not even halfway through the movie the four of them had conked out for the night, they all had a busy day and they needed their sleep so that they could do it all over again the next day.

Dean’s wife smiled as she stepped into the living room, watching as her husband and their two baby girls slept. She tucked them all in, even the man she considered a father figure, she wished she could do more but there was only so much that a ghost could do, but she would return to Dean in the morning like she always did. She would do so until Dean got over her but in the end she would be waiting for them. It was always going to be Dean’s turn to be at Delilah’s beck and call.

This fills the ‘character death’ square for Shanna’s bingo.

Forevers: @super100012 @lupine-princess @plaid-lover-bay25 @atc74 @growningupgeek @sophiebobzz @docharleythegeekqueen @poukothenerd @grace-for-sale @mrswhozeewhatsis @jesspfly @supernaturallymarvellous @sammysgirl1997 @roxyspearing @mogaruke @be-amaziing @deanandsamsbitch @frankiea1998 @hennessy0274-blog @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @iwantthedean @capsheadquaters @emoryhemsworth @notmoose45 @essie1876 @cassieraider @brewsthespirit-blog @its-my-perky-nipples @riversong-sam @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @jadalecki-jackles @spnbaby-67 @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @alyssa6marie @esoltis280 @bumber-car-s @alexwinchester23 @x-waywardaf-x @thisismysecrethappyplace @randomparanoid @kellianz

Dean: @kenmen02 @ain-t-bovvered @deans-baby-momma @ericaprice2008 @shamelesslydean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wingedcatninja @mayasmedberg @kurosaki224-new-blog @valerieshubin @milo-winchester-4ever @sandlee44 @ruprecht0420 @akshi8278 @smoothdogsgirl @dslocum89 @plaidstiel-wormstache @ria132love @welldonebeca @iamabeautifulperson18 @starry-chaos @deans-treasure @larajadeschmidt13 @nyxveracity @dean-winchesters-bacon @adoptdontshoppets

#tale teller's 2020 bingo challenge #spngenrebingo #goodthingshappenbingo #spndeanbingo #spnaubingo #dean fic #dean winchester fic #dean one shot #dean oneshot #dean imagine #dean winchester one shot #jayankles #jayankles writes #bailey writes

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kerra-and-company · 4 years ago

Note

"how can you stay by my side, knowing what i just told you?" for the secrets prompts ✨

When I first saw this, I had no idea what I was going to write. And then this somehow turned into 920 words, which is the longest piece I’ve written for an ask so far. So thank you extra for this @i-mybrunettelady, and have some Ari (plus a few others)! :) (Side note, I managed to fit in that one hand-kissing prompt that you sent me before into an actual fic by complete accident, so, bonus!)

Warnings: none that I can think of except for incredibly vague Icebrood and HoT spoilers--a whole lot of emotions, though

Ari wasn’t sure what made her say it.

They’d been having what passed for a decent day in Drizzlewood. Not too many attacks, a fair amount of banter, and (to Ari’s delight) very little rain. The last thing she wanted to do was spoil it.

But she was sitting next to Brook by the fire and listening to Cio and Casca quietly discuss rifle modifications, and the stars above them lit up the sky. Her mouth opened, and the words fell out.

“I stopped looking for you.”

Brook glanced at Ari sideways. “What?”

“After I joined the Pact,” she said, staring into the flames. “I stopped trying. Most people weren’t remotely interested in rescuing two charr from the Flame Legion, and the few who were…they were needed. We were going to fight Zhaitan.

“And after that, we were ordered into Orr and Maguuma and the Crystal Desert, and somewhere in there, I heard that you and Casca were alive. I heard that you escaped. And I didn’t come find you. I was under orders, yes, and the Pact needed all the pilots they could get after Verdant Brink, but…” she trailed off, feeling unwelcome tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “The Commander would have let me go. I should have asked. I should have left.”

All three of them were looking at her now.

“I wasn’t fit to be your legionnaire, and I’m still not.” Ari took a deep breath. When she exhaled, the fire danced. “I’m sorry, and I don’t hold you to your oath. You’re free to leave.”

A pause. Brook coughed and brought a paw to their forehead.

“With all due respect, Legionnaire,” they said, “You’re an idiot.”

Of all the possible responses she could have gotten, she hadn’t considered that one. “Huh?”

“You realize that we didn’t look for you either, right?” They met her gaze. “Casca was trying to put her life and herself back together in Hero’s Canton, and I went so far that I managed to run into the Olmakhan before the Pact did. Neither of us were exactly focused on warband unity.”

Ari snarled and stood. They weren’t understanding. “Neither of you were legionnaire! Bringing the Storm warband back together was my job!”

“You seem to have done that,” Casca interjected in her soft voice. She gestured between the three of them, making several lopsided triangles. “We’re what’s left, and we’re together.”

“But—you—” They should be mad. Why weren’t they mad? “This was a complete accident!”

Brook shrugged. “Well, I’m happy with it.” Their eyes bored into hers. “And no matter what you say, Ari, I’m not leaving.”

“Me neither,” Casca added.

Ari wanted to run. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hide in a pile of furs and never come out. “How?! How can you stay with me after what I just told you?”

Next to her, Brook rose and abruptly pulled her into an awkward but tight hug.

“‘Warband above self’ definitely has some issues,” they said, letting her go after a few moments. “But what it means to me is that you and Casca are family, Ar, don’t you get that?”

“In other words,” Casca said, standing as well, “We love you, idiot. We’re not going anywhere.”

Another hug. Ari had never been more confused in her life.

“Except maybe to bed,” Brook added. “It’s late. Get some rest, okay?” They reached up and ruffled her hair. “We’ll be here in the morning.”

With that, Brook and Casca headed for their tent, the latter throwing a smile in Ari’s direction before vanishing inside.

“I don’t understand,” Ari whispered, suddenly feeling very small. She turned to Cio, who now stood at her side. “Help me understand.”

“Is it really so hard to believe that they love you?” Cio asked. “They’re your family. Pliarr is my family, and I see him maybe three times a year now, if I’m lucky. But he’s my brother, and I love him, and that is never going to change.”

“Love doesn’t always mean forgiveness, though,” Ari said. She knew she’d never forgive Weylon or Lifa, and she’d loved them both. Part of her still did.

“It sounds like they don’t think there’s anything to forgive,” Cio replied.

And that made no sense whatsoever.

“Ari,” Cio said carefully, as if Ari was an ice sculpture that she was trying not to break. “You need to forgive yourself.”

Ari stared at the ground. She retracted her claws—in, out, in, out, in.

Cio took one paw in both of her hands. “Hey. Furball. Come out of your head.”

“I’m out.”

Cio frowned.

“Okay, no, I’m not,” Ari admitted. “I…I think I need to sleep.”

“All right. If that’s what you need.” Cio took a step back, still holding on. “Good night.”

Ari lifted her head just enough to meet Cio’s eyes. “‘Night, Sparks.”

Cio froze. Before Ari had time to ponder what she’d said wrong, the engineer brought Ari’s paw to her mouth and kissed it, somehow gentle and desperate all at once. Ari could feel the touch of her lips through her fur—warm, warm, Cio is always so warm—

“You are loved,” Cio said, her voice breaking on the last word. “And we are going to talk in the morning.”

With that, the engineer squeezed her paw once and let go, nearly diving into her tent. Ari was alone by the fire, which had somehow dissolved into embers during the conversation.

The night was cold now. Ari was anything but.

#gw2 #i-mybrunettelady #ari stormshield #cioffi #brook splitstorm #casca shadowstorm #'furball' and 'sparks' are nicknames that the two of them used when they first met #for a bit of context there #:)#my fics #forgot to add that tag whoops

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missnight0wl · 5 years ago

Text

Why Rakepick didn’t appear before Y4? HPHM explained

I’m getting tired of the fact that the game delivers no answers and just creates more questions, so... I gathered the possible answers scattered around. Spoilers ahead for the whole story (Y6Ch22).

Let’s explain/fix Hogwarts Mystery, y’all!

But first, let’s establish some things

One of the subplots that really bugs me (and definitely should’ve been addressed after the Portrait Vault) is the fact that Dumbledore was searching for Rakepick since Y1. I know I sound like a broken record with that, but the thing is that it wasn’t some single mention - it’s reoccurring information. First, we had an optional conversation in Y1Ch9:

Then, there was Y2, and in the very first chapter of it, Dumbledore was already gone:

Y2Ch3 when McGonagall and Snape found Ben:

Y2Ch9:

... and the next scene:

Finally, we had the end of Y3:

And already in Dumbledore’s office:

Moreover, this information was reminded once more in “Rita Returns” SQ which originally was placed in Y4:

The writers wanted us to know that it took time for Dumbledore to find Rakepick. And I have to ask: HOW? How does it even make sense? First of all, it’s freaking Albus Dumbledore we’re talking about, one of the greatest wizards of his times - he shouldn’t have much trouble finding anyone. And secondly, how Rakepick from all people was hard to find? I mean, she’s kind of a celebrity - the world’s greatest Curse-Breaker, the Head Curse-Breaker at Gringott’s, drawing a lot of attention with her accomplishments.

She couldn’t have just... disappeared. In fact, because we didn’t get at any point information that she was absent from public life right before coming back to Hogwarts, I assume that she WASN’T simply absent. So, again, how it’s possible that Dumbledore was looking for her for so long? Well, I see two options:

Rakepick was protected by the Fidelius Charm. The cases we’ve seen in the original series were about hiding a location, but perhaps, it’s also possible to hide a person on their own. In that case, Dumbledore could’ve been standing in front of Rakepick and he wouldn’t find her unless the Secret was revealed to him.

Dumbledore wasn’t exactly searching for her, but he was going away to convince her to come back to Hogwarts.

In both cases, we still have the same problem: why she couldn’t/didn’t want to return earlier? According to her story from the Portrait Vault, she wanted to come back - and it should’ve been super easy for her. The news about the Cursed Vaults was well-known after Y2 (Y3Ch1):

Why Rakepick didn’t just come to Hogwarts, saying: “Hey, Albus. You have the Cursed Vaults, I’m a Curse-Breaker, let’s help each other” - especially that HE WANTED HER TO COME. It makes no sense whatsoever, and I don’t understand why we don’t talk about it.

Now, let’s skip to Y4. Two important things happened then: Rakepick arrived and R made the first direct contact with MC. I don’t buy that she was behind Ben’s attack because it’d be plain stupid on R’s part to draw attention to their own member like that. No, I’m fairly certain that Rakepick wasn’t working with R at the time.

I also assume that Jacob and Rakepick were working together at least since the Forest Vault (in his times). When MC was spying on Rakepick for Snape in Y4Ch12, we witnessed that scene:

She KNOWS the curse was broken. She knows it from Jacob, and she probably helped him with that, whether with the knowledge or perhaps she even was there with him. From Jacob’s notebook, we also know that he was going with her to the Portrait Curse. But there was one more thing in-between: Duncan died. And after that, Jacob got a letter from R:

I assume that “she” in the first sentence is about Patricia, and by “there are no friends”, R not only was drawing Jacob’s attention away from Duncan’s death. They were also saying that he shouldn’t work with Rakepick. I imagine that they were not happy about that, no matter if she was genuinely helping Jacob or she had her own interest in that - she was keeping him from R. It'd go along with the threat R sent to Rakepick (the letter MC found in Y4Ch5):

It was never confirmed when it was written - it could’ve been in Jacob’s time (I wrote more about that letter in this post.)

So, what did Jacob decide in that situation? The boy who was worried that Hogwarts was doomed if he wouldn’t find the Vault of Fear fast enough? The boy who told Alistair Fidgen that he’s upset because people are getting hurt due to the curses? Who was letting R manipulate him to protect his loved ones? He joined his enemy, to protect them once more.

Now, to the proper explanation

Here’s what I’m thinking. Jacob made a deal with R to continue his job for them IF they wouldn’t hurt MC. We know he was blackmailed like that even before Duncan’s death, but I imagine that after his expulsion, Jacob actually joined their group (as in: he was exclusively focusing on doing tasks for them). R accepted his conditions, but MC couldn’t get any help when it comes to the Cursed Vaults: neither from Jacob OR Rakepick. For some reason, R needed to start over from the Vault of Ice, but they knew that when the curses appear at Hogwarts again, Dumbledore would try to reach to the greatest Curse-Breaker. That’s why Rakepick couldn’t arrive in the first years, and why R wasn’t attacking MC - they were using Ben instead.

Now, why R wouldn’t want to actually use MC at the time? The kid was at school, after all, right where the Cursed Vaults are. I suppose it’s a good moment to point out that I strongly believe that the siblings are connected to the Cursed Vaults “by blood” and that one of them is needed to open the final vault. I also imagine that there might be some additional requirements like you have to go through all of the vaults personally. It is the final vault, so it only makes sense that it’d be extra hard to get to whatever it holds. They could’ve used MC, but it was easier to go quickly through the whole process and use Jacob at the end who was already prepared for that - at least, that was the original plan. At the same time, they didn’t bother much about MC’s search as they thought the kid has no sources and wouldn’t go far alone anyway. Notice that everything we got was from Jacob. We don’t know what he was using previously in his own research as we didn’t really find anything.

However, something happened during MC’s Y3 that broke the deal between Jacob and R. My guess is that it was about the clues left for MC in the Vaults and/or Jacob communicating with us via Legilimency. R found out that Jacob was helping his little sibling (and he wasn’t supposed to do that), they got pissed off, and they restricted his freedom even more. Interestingly, the first Rita Skeeter’s SQ was placed in Y3, and this is what she told us about our brother then:

Being trapped in a portrait IS NOT the same as “being held captive”, and I will die on this hill. Jacob wasn’t in the Portrait Vault at that time. In fact, we learnt from Nearly Headless Nick that there was another case of the Portrait Curse at Hogwarts, 5-10 years ago (from the present time), and the victim was freed - meaning that the curse was broken. Rakepick’s story that Jacob got trapped because the dragon wasn’t defeated and the curse wasn’t broken IS A LIE! Let’s move on for now though...

A little later, in Y3Ch6, MC received the Letter From No One:

I speculate that this letter was from Rakepick for a long time, and it actually fits the current theory pretty well. Patricia found out that Jacob screwed up and that R wouldn’t stop now from going after MC to stop the kid, so she had to step in. Why R didn’t attack in Y3 then? Perhaps it’s because MC already had the book needed to open the Vault of Fear. Maybe they decided that it’s easier to let MC break that one curse instead of getting the book from them and dealing with it on their own.

Let’s fast-forward a bit again. We have Y4 when Rakepick arrived. And what was the very first thing she did? She taught MC Protego:

Like, this was literally their first interaction one on one. Wouldn’t it be more important to question MC about their progress etc.? Why did she bother with this charm? Why it couldn’t wait? Well, because she knew that R might strike any moment now. And they did, in Y4Ch3:

I have two questions about that scene:

why R wanted to kill MC in Y4?

why they stressed to stay away from Rakepick?

... and I actually think it’s connected. In Y4, R had Jacob and - as I said before - they were planning to use him for the final vault. Therefore, they not only didn’t need MC but the kid was also some kind of a threat: they ARE able to reach the final vault and open it, especially if Rakepick helps them. And R knew that Rakepick would try to help them as that’s why she returned to Hogwarts.

All right, but then Y5 comes, and it seems that something has changed.

And here, I have two questions again:

why R doesn’t want to kill MC anymore?

why they want to kill one of their friends?

So, going in order. There’s no doubt that in Y4, R wanted to kill MC because they hadn’t listened to their warning, and they kept investigating the Cursed Vaults.

In Y5, they suddenly need MC. Why? Well, now we know that it was about the Legilimency door. But... didn’t they know about it back in Y4? It doesn’t make any sense, I don’t buy it. My guess is that something had happened to Jacob between Y4 and Y5 so R can’t use HIM anymore. Personally, I “like” to think that Jacob is dying. That the Vaults are somehow protecting themselves from a person who can open the final one, so they’re weakening him more and more the further he went. Maybe he’s being affected more by that effect because he’s a first-born (so his connection is stronger), or perhaps he somehow managed to take that on himself purposefully to spare his sibling. Either way, I imagine that R realised that Jacob might simply die before the final vault, so they decided that it’s safer to switch their focus to MC.

So, what’s the deal with killing a friend then? Why Rowan had to die? I mean, when you think about it, it makes absolutely no sense - and I’m not talking only about the fact that Rowan’s arc was butchered from Y5. It doesn’t make sense that R wanted to kill anyone. Because look what we learnt from Duncan:

Yes, it seems that death threats are typical for R, but Jacob knew why they threatened him - or rather: what he had to do to avoid consequences. He had to obey. But MC? They weren’t told if they’re still supposed to stay away from the Vaults (just like they were instructed months ago), they didn’t get any orders to follow. Like... it’s not how threats work. When someone robs you, you’ll hear: “Give me your money or I’ll kill your friend”. MC heard only: “I’ll kill your friend”. And why they insisted on killing someone after the Portrait Vault? Was it purely an ego thing? Do they keep balance in the universe and if one person was sentenced to die, they have to die? Seriously, what do you mean?

Honestly, the only explanation that comes to my mind is that it’s another requirement for the final vault: that you have to experience some great loss to enter it. I think about it as similar to seeing Thestrals. It does explain why R didn’t bother to give their reasons for killing our friend. They didn’t need to use it as “motivation” for MC to obey them because MC was already motivated with finding their brother. It even fits Jacob’s story, and why R was perfectly fine with Duncan dying: Jacob had to experience some loss anyway.

Back to the main plot though. Y5 is passing, and in Y5Ch19, Rowan is put under the Imperius Curse. I believe that it’s the point when Rakepick decided to join R. When Rowan was used instead of Ben, Rakepick might’ve realised that she’s not able to control the situation as the independent player, that knowing what’s happening inside of R would give her a big advantage. And there was definitely something happening with her between Y5Ch19 and Y5Ch20. She was missing since the moment MC got back from Knockturn Alley.

Then we learnt about her rat's problem and Kettleburn’s advice to get 142 cats, but Rakepick herself returned only after Pettigrew Obliviated us. She was also weirdly absent during our pranks mission for Peeves. She even allowed Fletcher to use MC for duelling a Dark Wizard! It seems like she might’ve been quite busy with something at that time. Could’ve it been about her plan for the Portrait Vault which she had to prepare almost on the spot?

In this place, I want to address the issue of Rakepick working with Merula. Now, if you want to say: “There’s no way they were working together. We saw Rakepick torture Merula, she said the incantation!” - I’m gonna stop you here.

Y5Ch27:

If MC answers that it’s because Rakepick trusts them, this is her reaction:

Notice that she talks about herself AND Bill – she sees all three of them as a group. She didn’t say anything like: “Rubbish! She should tell me, not you!”. In the very same chapter (Y5Ch27), Rakepick also taught us the Conjunctivitis Curse:

In other words: Merula did question Rakepick.

Y5Ch28:

Merula is absolutely certain that she’s favourite, even though just days ago she was clearly worried that MC might be liked more. Where her confidence suddenly comes from?

Y5Ch29:

But she does. She did it, Patty, just days ago...

Unless you have a better explanation for that sudden change, I’ll stick to the idea of them working together. And no, “the writers just changed their mind between two chapters” is not an explanation, definitely not a better one. Before Y5Ch28, Rakepick didn’t care much about Merula, and Merula DIDN’T see Rakepick as a mother figure. So, why they decided to convenience MC (and the players) that there’s a bond between them? To make the events in the Portrait Vault more meaningful.

You see, the thing with MC and Merula’s relationship is that it’s complicated - and the writers are aware of that. You might consider Merula your MC’s friend, but it’s not universally true for canon MC. In Y5Ch28, we had the option to tell Torvus that we’re not friends and that we’ll never be. Even after the Portrait Vault, MC said that the things WERE STARTING to go well between them. My point is that it’d be more painful for MC if Rakepick chose for a victim someone from their actual/older friends: Bill, Charlie/Penny, or Ben. But that’s why it was important to make MC believe that Merula is so charmed by Rakepick. Because then, the suffering wasn’t about seeing your classmate being tortured - it was about kid’s trust being betrayed by their mentor. MC is portrayed as a good-hearted person, so it would affect them no matter their personal feelings towards Merula. And since they never question anything, they also didn’t question why Merula’s admiration was so exaggerated all of a sudden.

All right, but why torture at all? Like... I’m sorry, but that’s another thing I totally don’t buy: Rakepick is very goal-oriented, she wouldn’t waste time on stupid Cruciatus Curse. Even if you want to believe that she’s a sadist, why the fuck she didn’t immobilize the kids first and then go to torture? Why she let them defend themselves? Well, here’s go another assumption for this theory. Remember the part about experiencing the loss as a requirement for the final vault? Since the Cursed Vaults are ancient creation, I imagine that the sources of knowledge about them are also ancient and/or incomplete. Therefore, my theory is that this particular information was very vague and open to interpretation (like, talking only about “the great loss/suffering”). Of course, R - who’s pure evil - assumed that it’s about someone’s death. However, Rakepick managed to convince them that perhaps seeing someone being tortured would be enough. And here, I can see three possibilities:

There are theories in HP fandom that one can perhaps “block” Crucio through Occlumency. Since the curse doesn’t cause the physical pain directly but it stimulates pain receptors, it’d make sense that one could “cut it off” (at least partially) by closing their mind. And Merula would definitely take the chance to learn Occlumency and become better at it than MC.

It’s canon that you can control the strength of the Cruciatus Curse while casting it, so it’s possible that Rakepick hit Merula with something comparable to Harry’s attempt on Bellatrix - enough to fall over, still bad, but not as bad as the game wants us to believe.

Finally, the last option which is currently my favourite: Rakepick didn’t use Crucio at all. The reason why I like it is because it also explains the situation where Rakepick wanted to teach us the curse in Knockturn Alley: it was supposed to show us (the players) that Rakepick CAN make it look like she’s using the spell without actually using it. Otherwise, the scene was basically pointless. Rakepick didn’t even have a reason to want to teach MC that. And you’re telling me she’s stupid enough to make absolutely clear for MC that using Crucio results in a lifetime in Azkaban right before using Crucio on someone? Please.

Now, I can hear you saying: “But we’ve seen Merula suffer!”, to which I have to ask: why it’s so hard for you to believe that she might be pretending? She KNOWS very well that MC might be manipulated if they feel sorry for someone. And she said more than once that she’ll do anything to get to the Cursed Vaults. Honestly, Merula working with Rakepick is not only a more interesting story but it’d be better for Merula’s character, too. For once, she wouldn’t be a poor victim. She’d finally show that she’s ambitious and cunning as she always claims to be. And her anger and need for revenge in Y6? Well, for one, it can be an act as well, at least to a degree. Because the thing is that even if they were working together, I doubt Rakepick would tell Merula everything. The more Merula realises that she wasn’t let in on the whole plan, the more upset she gets, and the more she doubts if Rakepick didn’t screw her over for real. It works pretty perfectly for everything because it makes Merula’s act more believable. Especially that I’m certain that Merula wasn’t expecting Rowan’s “death”. But before that issue, let’s go back to the Portrait Vault.

So, MC was left behind. Rakepick betrayed them and is on the run. Their brother went after her, possibly risking his life. And I ask again: why Rakepick failed so hard? Why Jacob didn’t answer any of our questions? Because the goal of them both is to lure MC to the final vault. Seriously, like... what Jacob was thinking? I’m not talking about the fact that he left, but that he did it without ANY EXPLANATION. I don’t care how many times he’ll repeat that he doesn’t want MC to get involved. He knows damn well that by not telling them anything, he’ll only make MC want to chase after him. And that’s also the reason why I think that it’s not real Jacob. I explained earlier why it’s a lie that Jacob was trapped in the portrait for years. But now, with my assumption that he got imprisoned for helping his sibling with the clues, I doubt R would trust him to place him as bait. Therefore, they put the imposter in the Vault instead, to give MC hope that their goal is so close, yet they still have to run after him.

In the meantime, Y6 is passing, but R decides that they don’t want to risk it that MC might be able to open the final vault - they want to kill someone, just in case, to be sure. That’s when Rowan’s “death” happens. And look... it HAS TO be fake. If you believe it’s real, that’s cool. But then, I have one question for you: please, try to put your emotions aside, and explain it to me. Because that’s how I see it:

We know that Rowan was following us from the castle, right? Hell, we saw them behind us in the Great Hall right before we left to the Forest. Rowan had to be very close to the group all that time. When we arrived at the Forest Grove, we spent some time there searching for the signs of R’s presence. Again, Rowan would have to catch up to us by the time Dementors showed up. Everyone was surprised by their appearance, so I imagine that they had to be staying in hiding. I assume it’s supposed to be covered by Penny/Charlie telling us that Rowan promised to not interfere unless a life would be on the line. But here’s a thing: it was a matter of life and death pretty much from a moment Rakepick appeared. She allegedly wanted to kill MC, and it was one of the first things she told us. Even if Rowan didn’t hear that, from their point of view, Rakepick is a wanted criminal who already tried to kill their friends. Rowan is also smart and protective, they would try to use their advantage where nobody knew about their presence and attack Patricia from behind, for example. If you tell me that they arrived just after Rakepick said incantation yet in time to jump in front of Ben... I simply don’t believe it. As I said, there was plenty of time for Rowan to catch up even before a duel began, so they would react earlier. If you accept bad writing as an explanation for that - you do you. But as I said at the beginning, it’s an attempt at explaining AND fixing the plot, so that’s what I’m doing: I’m fixing it without changing anything. Rowan’s entrance was set up, and I don’t know how they’ll explain it, but Rowan is alive. The whole point of it is that MC has to process that “death” to be able to open the final vault.

To sump up

Jacob and Rakepick were working together around the time of his expulsion, in defiance of R.

Eventually, Jacob agreed to join R to protect his family, and possibly Rakepick. I mean, his feelings aside, he wrote in his notebook that she saved his life, so he might’ve felt obligated - and we know that R threatened Rakepick at some point. Jacob made a deal with R that he’ll work for them if they won’t hurt his family. R agreed, but MC couldn’t get any help from him OR Rakepick.

Jacob broke the deal by leaving us the clues. He lost any remains of freedom he had had.

In Y4, R wanted to stop MC’s search by killing them. Rakepick finally could return to Hogwarts to protect and help MC without breaking Jacob’s deal (because it was already broken).

Before Y5, R realised that Jacob had become useless for them for some reason. They switched their interest to MC since one of the siblings is needed to open the final vault.

Rakepick joined R around Y5Ch20 to gain better insight into their actions.

She staged the torture scene with Merula to not have to kill any of the kids (as R believes it’s needed to open the final vault).

R wasn’t satisfied with that solution, so eventually, they ordered Rakepick to kill MC’s friend anyway. Rakepick staged the situation in the Forbidden Forest with Rowan.

So yeah. Bada bing bada boom, we can go home. Do I think that they actually will bother to explain all of that? Absolutely no. Do I think it can be explained more simply without leaving unanswered questions? Also no. The sad thing is that this analysis/theory doesn’t even cover all of the holes still existing in the story. But... Go ahead, Jam City. Prove me wrong. Give me something better - and by “better”, I also mean “making sense”.

And if you like my overthinking, you might consider buying me a Ko-fi - link on my blog! Because, you know, it’s not like Jam City is going to pay me, even if they’ll somehow find it and use it to remind themselves their own story (God knows they need it...). That being said, all other kinds of feedback are also very welcomed!

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ikemenayakashi · 5 years ago

Text

I'll find you - Chapter 1

Pair: Asta x Yuno, don't like, don't read.

Manga spoilers! Don't read if you don't know Yuno's past and if you don't want spoilers (if you don't care of spoilers, I feel you and you are welcome to read)

‘Do you have any idea of what I had to do?’

‘You probably had to help someone doing the chores’

‘Oh right! I promised TVWOSTEC CYAT to help with them instead of TVWL. Thanks! Love you’

Yuno smiled while starring at the tiny hearts his mate added at the end of the message. He gave up years ago on telling him that writing names was worthless, since they were transformed into random letter by magic. Yuno didn't understand why magic would let him talk, well write would be a better word, with his soulmate with no problem, but wouldn't let them write things that would have actually helped them find each other. They could only tell the other vague information, Yuno knew his soulmate was a blonde man with green eyes. But that was a description of more or less a quarter of the whole Spade Kingdom.

Always hoping he wasn't in another kingdom, finding him would have been even more difficult then.

He just... wanted to meet him.

He wanted to hear his voice, to touch him and teach him to write in a calligraphy that didn't give Yuno a headache. He loved him, of course, they "knew" each other since they were born, but it took Yuno quite a while to be able to read what his soulmate was writing.

He remember the first time they could communicate. It was after a dinner with the nobles of the kingdom to celebrate some victory in a fight. Yuno was tired of them so he told his parents he was that he would have retired into his chambers to read a book.

He read for a while until he was interrupted by a warm feeling on his left arm, he was now used to understand that the itchy and warm feeling was caused by his soulmate trying to write to him. He threw the book away and went to search for a feather and some ink, in the past few years he studied what his soulmate was writing, to reach the conclusion that it wasn't some arcane language but just a terrible handwriting. He couldn't understand what the other person wrote for a lot of time because he was used to the elegant writing style of the nobles and the books of their library. Added to that, there was also the fact that his soulmate didn't write much.

His mother told him that, considering both of the information, his soulmate was probably not a noble, and in that case Yuno should have waited for the other person to write.

“Not all people can have whatever they want like us, Yuno. Some people have to take care of the few things they have. Writing is not something all people have the luxury to learn, so most people buy ink only to reach their soulmate when they grow up and when they have a job to be able to both buy the ink and pay someone to write for them. I am sure your soulmate is doing whatever is in their power to reach you. Wait for them to write something first, so you won't cause them troubles, ok?” his mother's words stopped him from writing to his soulmate for the past months. But now that they finally wrote to him again, he wouldn't lose this change.

Yuno looked at the messy handwriting trying to understand what it said before the ink disappeared.

‘Will... I get... magic?’

His hand trembled a little after reading that.

Were they ok? Why were they worrying about their magic? Did they get in trouble? Did he have to go and help them? His little face was now showing a worried expression but now he didn't have time to overthink it.

‘You will’

He wrote it fast.

He didn't want them to think he was ignoring them.

More worries crossed the young child's mind. Those were the first words he wrote to his soulmate. Were they ok? He tried to write in a simple style, to make it easier to read, but did it worked? Was it still too hard to read? Would the other person answer? He didn't answered for a year, maybe now they were angry at him? What if they didn't want to talk to them now?

‘WAIT YOU REALLY EXISTS?’

A part of Yuno wanted to scream. They didn't seem angry but damn, their writing was even worst now.

‘Yes, I do exist. I apologize for not writing before’

‘It's ok! I thought you just weren't born yet! Where are you? When can we meet?’

Well, they were surely energetic.

‘I am prince Yuno. Tell me where are you and we can meet even tomorrow. ’

Yuno realized it looked like an order right after writing it, so he quickly added

‘If you can and if you want, of course’

He didn't get an answer for a while. The ink disappeared and Yuno wondered what did he do wrong. Maybe they hated the royal family?

‘PBEDV7N VWUH says that names aren't shown correctly because it's really late and we should sleep right now! Maybe if we talk during the day we can see them! Good night! ’

Yuno replied with the same words, while starring at the random letters he supposed were the name of someone.

He never heard of a condition like that. His parents found each other when they were still children too. His mother wrote her first message when she was six and his father answered immediately. Yuno's father was a noble and the meeting with the royal family was arranged in some days, with the result of his father being accepted into the royal family without any issues. Neither of them ever mentioned problem of any kind, like not being able to read what the other was saying. They were lucky enough to grow up together and Yuno always hoped he could have the same luck as them.

It seemed it wouldn't have been that easy for him.

Since that day they wrote to each other every time the other boy could. Sometimes Yuno wrote random information of what he was doing, his wishes or anything that crossed his mind. He wanted to let the other know he remembered him and that he wanted to find him as soon as possible. The other guy tried to do the same as often as he could, but Yuno had guessed that his mother was right and his soulmate didn't have much money to spare. Yuno tried to convince him that he was fine even if they couldn't talk much, but the other tried his best to write to him everything major that happened to him, often followed by cute tiny hearts, and that alone warmed Yuno's heart, making him giggle with a sweet smile.

Yuno was sitting at the table having lunch with his parent, when he felt his left arm cold. He stopped eating and run to find ink, feeling his muscles tensing every seconds that passed.

He wasn't supposed to feel cold.

When your soulmate wrote to you, you are only supposed to feel warm. Like when it was snowing and you come back home with the fire there to make you forget the chills. Like the sun that touched your skin after winter, announcing the beginning of spring.

Cold was just... wrong.

Yuno soon reached his room, still feeling like there was ice all over his arm.

‘what's wrong’

He was sure his handwriting wasn't this worst even when he was learning how to write. He was holding his left arm, strong enough to be painful, but at that moment he couldn't feel the pain. He was probably going to break his own arm, when his mother's gentle touch made him lose the grip. He didn't notice her coming after him, but he was glad she did.

She looked at him with the same gold eyes, holding him gently into her arms. She didn't speak and Yuno was thankful for it. He didn't want to talk about it, everything that crossed his mind was too scary to say it loud.

Did it get cold because his soulmate was injured? Was he in danger? And if that were the case, how was he supposed to find him? He didn't know anything about where he lived. Yuno clung to his mother, with tears falling down without his control, hoping that was all a nightmare and that he would have soon wake up from it.

The cold didn't disappear for several minutes, with the growing of Yuno's worry. And then, as suddenly as it came, it disappeared.

Yuno couldn't take a breath of relief, because the cold was replaced by hot. Too hot. Yuno felt like his arm was burning from inside and fell on the floor in pain holding his arm, deaf to his mother's words of worry.

Unlike the cold feeling, this one didn't last more than mere seconds, but it was ten times stronger.

Only after he calmed himself with some deep breaths, he dared to look at the origin of the pain.

Yuno observed the ink while it slowly created not words, but what he guessed was a picture. His eyes never leaving the figure the soulmate magic was making over his arm. The first thing he saw was a building. Next appeared the surroundings of it, with trees and some little figures. Then an enormous thing was drawn right next to it.

‘A skeleton?’ he heard his mother whisper.

Yuno didn't answer, too busy looking at the drawing that was now getting the stunning colours of sunset.

When the drawing finished Yuno was speechless. He never saw something like that and he couldn't help think it was beautiful. He slowly passed his fingers over the paint, amazed by the art it was in front of him.

Then, right under the drawing that covered half of his arm, Yuno felt warm and then he saw the messy handwriting he was hoping for.

‘I dunno if this worked, but if it did, well, I am here... ’

-------

So, erm, well, hi. I wrote again lol. I actually posted this on Ao3 too because I really love that site too for fanfic (and there are some yunoasu fics if you want to check it👀)

#yunoasu #yuno x asta #yuno grinbellior #black clover asta #black clover #black clover yuno

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infinites-chaser · 5 years ago

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under a golden sun | mlqc | gavin/mc | 2nd person POV | bittersweet fluff

spoilers for gavin’s campus date and his unreleased basketball date

You and Gavin spend the summer together alongside Minor and his new obsession with basketball.

(Somehow, the summer breeze feels cooler when Gavin's nearby.)

The sun is low and golden by the time you and Gavin leave Loveland High. He’s about to make his way to the parking lot when you put a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” you say. “There’s one more place I want to visit before we go.”

There’s a basketball court a little behind the school, across the campus from the track. Beside it, always shielding half from the sun, stands an old ginkgo tree.

The you from seven years ago, and Minor, and later, Gavin, pass it every afternoon on the walk home after school. Every afternoon, Minor lingers outside it until the ginkgo tree’s shadow covers nearly three-quarters of the court, gripping the chain-link fence and swearing he’ll join the NBA one day, if only for Steph Curry.

You, already used to this routine, patiently remind him of the homework you two should be starting on soon.

But then Gavin starts walking back with you, and your easy-going two becomes an awkward three. When Minor stops to stare at the court, Gavin asks you why. It’s probably one of the first times he’s ever addressed you directly, and you stiffen, just a little, under his hard amber gaze.

“He wants to join the NBA?” Your nervousness turns the answer into a question.

“I see.”

Gavin scoffs a little, and the conversation’s over.

You pout when his eyes leave yours-- you don’t want to make trouble, he’s well, famous, for a reason or maybe two (his fists) and you’d rather not be on the opposite end of those anytime soon, no matter how much Minor clearly idolizes him.

(Thinking back to when you first met him, you really had no idea he’d have such an impact on your life.)

The first time Minor invites you out to play basketball with him, when you get to the court behind Loveland High, you nearly turn and run. Gavin’s with him. Of course. You really should’ve guessed, seeing how close the two were at the end of the school year. It doesn’t really make you want to run away any less.

Before your fight-or-flight instinct’s flight kicks in, though, a gentle breeze sends ginkgo leaves floating past you, and you remember more than the rumors, you remember a rainy afternoon without an umbrella, a wet kitten, and a boy’s jacket flung over your head-- by the time you went to move it, all you could see of him was that his ears were a bright red. You remember Minor falling into his seat next to you during lunch, a bruise on his cheek though his eyes were bright, his hushed whisper of “Gavin saved me,” and the boy himself pulling up a chair at your table with an awkward cough. You remember how he’d started walking with you and Minor, and no one had bothered either of you on the way to and from the school for the rest of the school year.

You’re still a little apprehensive, but maybe he’s not so bad, after all, you tell yourself. Maybe. But at the end of the day, you don’t really know him, not even from the walks back home after school, for better or for worse.

“Gavin’s here to play, too!” Minor calls to you with a wide grin as he runs over, oblivious to your conflicted thoughts. “He’s really good!”

Then, over his shoulder: “Aren’t you, bro?”

Gavin shrugs from where he’s leaning against the fence, just on the edge of the shade, the picture of boredom. He’s decked out in a dark hoodie and jeans you don't quite understand how he can wear under the summer sun. And, not that you’re in any place to judge what people wear to play basketball, but--

“I’m not playing.”

He closes his eyes as Minor starts to complain, and for all intents and purposes, seems to go to sleep right there on the spot. In lieu of getting Gavin to play with him, Minor tries to teach you to shoot, and you indulge him, and try not to wince too hard every time he tosses the ball in your direction.

The thing is, you’re actually a little afraid of basketball. You’re sure it’s just slipped Minor’s mind-- it had been a big deal at the beginning of the year that you’d desperately tried to get everyone to forget throughout the course of PE, but a boy had hit you with a basketball ‘by mistake,’ and you’d heard him laughing about it with his friends at lunch that very same day.

Sure, that doesn't stop one of your classmates from dragging you out to one of the school's basketball games, and maybe you'd thought the last dunk by that one player had looked downright dreamy, but neither Minor or Gavin need to know that. And since Gavin doesn't give any indication he'll be playing, let alone moving for the rest of the afternoon, you don't really mind playing with Minor, even if every shot you attempt misses.

Minor's far from what you'd call a good teacher, but his enthusiasm and genuine love for basketball is infectious. You take it all in good stride, laughing when the ball arcs at least two feet below the hoop, cheering when Minor makes a three-pointer, then chasing after the rebound when his next shot bounces off the backboard. You're exhausted by the time the summer sun's directly overhead, and you're about to call out to Minor that you're going to take a break when it happens.

Maybe it's the glare, or the way your vision's gone a little fuzzy from the exertion, your reaction speed slowed by a few precious milliseconds, but--

A basketball barrels towards you, and you freeze, can't even think to put your hands in front of your face or even move, all you can do is flinch back, screwing your eyes shut, prepared for the coming painful impact. It never comes.

You open your eyes to Gavin's scowl, his angry gaze directed over your head at a fervently apologizing Minor. The basketball bounces across the court in the opposite direction, then clatters to a stop against the fence under the ginkgo tree's spreading branches.

It takes your brain a long second to catch up.

Gavin protected you?

The thought's absurd, even to your heat-addled brain. And yet--

He looks down at you, his amber gaze softening a little, and the sight warms your cheeks. And maybe your heart flutters, just a little.

"You all right?"

"I- I'm okay."

You manage a shaky smile up at Gavin, and he stiffens a little, then steps away from you quickly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He clears his throat.

"Watch out, yeah?"

You swallow and nod, missing the reddened tips of his ears, the way his gaze tracks to yours, then darts away.

After that afternoon, Minor doesn't ask you to play with him. He gives you no less than five separate apologies, offers to pay for dinner that day, and ice cream, too, but you laugh it off, and try not to think about how close Gavin had been when he'd blocked the basketball, how his soft amber gaze had made your heart pound just a little faster.

To occupy your time, you wheedle a DSLR out of your father, and take to carrying it around, thick strap around your neck, the camera itself cradled protectively to your chest save for the moments you work up the courage to lift the viewfinder to your eye and snap a photo. At first, you think they'll just tease you, and Minor does, and you blush and screw the lens cap back on, the camera sitting in the crook of your arms, unused, as you watch him play.

It gets easier, over the course of the summer, after you sit through many an afternoon in the hazy heat where it's clear Minor now only cares about perfecting his layup and trying reverses, and Gavin, well, doesn't care. He leans against the fence instead of playing and tries to get Minor to miss -- you laugh at some of his funnier jibes and maybe his eyes linger a little longer on your grin, on your smile when Minor's complaining and chasing a rebound, but, well, that's his secret to keep.

You try to capture Minor's hoops. The photos start out frustratingly blurry, and you try to remember what your father taught you about all of the buttons, the aperture, the shutter speed, the ISO. You fiddle. The camera clicks. Gavin takes to peering over your shoulder while Minor tries shots, and you try shooting him. He never says much, just expresses a casual interest, gives you the occasional encouragement, and normally, you would feel pressured, but your shots improve along with Minor's.

(And somehow, the summer breeze feels cooler when Gavin's nearby.)

"Look," Gavin says, once, from behind you, and your fingers stutter on the camera shutter. The picture comes out blurry.

"Gavin!"

You turn to him with a scowl, ready to scold him for ruining your shot, but. Words fail you. He's close. Closer than you'd thought.

Vaguely, your brain registers a single fact: his face is a few bare inches from yours. Also: his surprisingly shy smile. The soft, startled look in his eyes.

An orange butterfly floats up in the space between him and you, its wings beating in time with your accelerating heart.

Both of your faces redden moments later, and you pull back, nearly tripping over your own feet as you come out of your crouch.

"I, uh, wanted to show you," Gavin says belatedly, eyes fixed on the ground, cheeks still dark, a little gruff. "It landed on me."

He clears his throat and makes to stand up. His eyes dart back to you, and he says, softer, while they linger:

"Thought it was pretty."

Another day, Gavin brings a book and settles down next to your usual seat under the shade of the ginkgo tree.

"What're you reading?"

You peer over his shoulder, or at least, you try your best to, catching a glimpse of constellations traced out across the night sky.

"Nothing," he mutters, shoving the book behind him before you can read any more, his ears faintly red.

"You like astronomy?"

"I said it was nothing," he repeats, but his ears burn a little redder. You smile.

"What's your favorite constellation? Mine's actually not a constellation, but I really like the Milky Way. Because of Double Seventh. And Zhinu and Niulang, it's probably really typical of me to say so, but I think their story's really romantic. Even if it's really sad, too."

You pause. Gavin's silent. Heat rises to your cheeks-- you realize you've been rambling.

"Sorry!" You blurt. "I got carried away--"

"I like Jupiter," he says before you can continue, finally meeting your eyes, gaze warm and steady. "Jupiter and how it always protects the moon."

One afternoon hotter than all the days before, you arrive at the court to the sound of raised voices. Minor's there, his fists raised, glaring hard at three sneering boys. At the sight of their faces, your blood runs cold. They go to Loveland High school too. In fact, if you remember properly, Minor had told you one time that the tallest one used to bully him in middle school.

By the looks of it, they'd seen Minor playing alone and had thought to make fun of him-- and the leader had paid in kind, there's the beginnings of what looks like a bruise forming around his left eye.

"Minor!" You call, before the rising tension can get any worse. You know it's a mistake the minute their gazes turn to you. The tall bully's sneer widens, and the way his eyes rove you makes you want to turn and run away. You'd taken to wearing short skirts and tank tops, not to be cute for anyone in particular, though it had been gratifying to think that someone might've seen and admired you, but this just makes you feel gross in a way you can't quite explain.

"So you're tight with Loveland High's Princess," the bully says, and the feeling you have worsens, a pit in your stomach that won't stop growing.

"Little lady, why don't you hang out with some real men for a change, how 'bout it?"

He addresses you with a smirk.

"Leave Minor alone!"

"Yeah?" He reaches for your arm, and you yank it away, heart racing-- even though Minor looks ready and willing to fight, and maybe he could win, but there's three of them, and you don't want Minor to get hurt--

"Let's go on a date, alright? Just the one, and I'll leave Minor-boy alone."

He reaches for your arm again, and you pull out of his reach, cheeks burning with anger.

"Stop it!" You cry, and Minor's moved to your side, eyes flashing, giving you the courage to glare a little harder.

"You can't just throw your weight around and expect people to go along with it!"

The bully shrinks back. His two followers look ready to run. You blink, then try to glare even harder. They all whiten.

Then, from behind you, low and angry:

"Scram." Gavin.

Relief floods through you, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding as the bullies run, and you turn to Gavin with a smile.

“Gavin, you saved us!”

His hard amber gaze softens under yours, and he gives you the smallest of smiles back before his eyes move to Minor.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The other boy nods wordlessly. Gavin claps him on the back.

“You got a good punch in. Don’t worry about them. If they ever come back, we can rough them up again.”

“Yeah. It’s nothing, though. Don’t worry about it.”

Minor sounds surprisingly dispassionate, and you blink up at him, but he turns away before you can properly read his expression, crossing the court to get his basketball.

He spends the rest of the afternoon practicing cheerfully without a shred of anger. You try to cheer him on normally from the shade of a nearby ginkgo tree and Gavin does the same, alternating between feigning boredom, poking fun or offering unhelpful advice.

"Minor," he says seriously, as the other boy attempts a lay-up for the fifth time. "I could just beat them up for you."

Minor scowls. The ball misses, and you spring up to chase after it as it bounces to the other side of the court, though you still hear his response.

"You don't need to do that, bro, I already told you, it's seriously no big deal!"

It's too-loud, too-perky.

Gavin doesn't speak again that afternoon, but his strong gaze never quite leaves Minor's panting form, except to throw you a glance every so often, when you laugh, huff, or frown. When the sun’s about to sink below the tops of the trees, he bids you a quick goodbye, casting a last look at Minor, who continues to dribble in the fading light.

It’s only when Gavin’s gone that Minor sinks to his knees, letting the ball roll free. He sighs heavily and takes the water bottle you offer him.

"I hate him," Minor says suddenly with a viciousness that startles you, a steady quiet burning anger at the bully that keeps your gaze to the ground-- you know, if you look up, you'll see the tears in his eyes.

"So what if I take care of how I look-- he's probably never looked in a mirror in his life.”

Then, quieter still: "So what if I think Fan Bing Bing is cute and Steph Curry, too? Fuck him."

"Minor--" you start, voice trembling, and reach to pat him on the shoulder. You don't know what to say, don't know what you could say. You'd heard rumors before, awful, vicious things people'd said behind his back that surely he'd heard and kept smiling still, but this feels different, to hear it from him, to see him lose control like this.

He shrugs out of your weak grasp and leaves before you can say a word.

The next day, you get to the court earlier than usual. To your surprise, someone’s already there, practicing their free throws. You sigh. You suppose it makes sense that Minor’s been practicing on his own-- you’re sure he’s still upset, and well, he has every right to be, you just wish he’d talk to you instead of practicing until his arms are sure to fall off--!

You’re about to call out to him and say as much to him out loud, but the player whirls, you catch a glimpse of his face in profile and you realize, you’re not watching Minor play, you’re watching Gavin.

There's a passion in his eyes you've never seen before, some softly burning fire, and when his shots go in, you think you see him grin. He looks somehow relaxed, in a way he never seems when Minor’s practicing, and you think it suits him, he looks more natural, more settled when he's in motion. Even if it's just him shooting baskets and catching the rebounds, he makes it look effortless.

As you watch him shoot, mesmerized, you suddenly remember another time-- an evening during the school year, when you’d been tasked with cleaning the gym up once basketball practice was over.

Even though you'd never liked basketball, somehow you’d always ended up with cleaning duty the days basketball practice was in session.

You’d peeked through the gymnasium’s doors, thinking it would be empty and quiet, but barely visible from where you stood just outside the doorway had been Gavin, playing alone, several basketballs rolling around the otherwise deserted gym floor. You hadn’t known what to do-- whether to call out to him, to ask him to put away the balls when he was finished, or even to leave. You’d stood there for an absurdly long time, unable to decide, watching him dribble, feint around imaginary opponents, then shoot. Each time, the ball had arced perfectly through the hoop, and you’d resisted the impulse to cheer.

You’d still been scared of him. Back then, you’d only ever known of him from the rumors always buzzing around the school-- that he’d fought thirty gangsters, that he’d almost ended up in jail, that one wrong move around him, and you’d end up in the hospital like the old principal had.

But watching him play that evening, you’d thought he didn’t look very scary at all, only maybe a little lonely. In the end, you’d left him to play, hiding in the back of the bleachers to work on the math problems due the next day, hoping he wouldn’t notice you were there, hoping he wouldn’t mind. The echo of the ball’s dribbling and the squeak of his shoes on the floor had been soothing, somehow.

By the time you’d finished your homework, though, the gym had fallen silent, and when you’d looked up Gavin had vanished, and all the basketballs on the floor you’d thought you would have had to clean up were neatly returned to their basket.

The rattling of the basket rim brings you back to the present just in time for you to see Gavin dunk. He wheels around with a whoop, the excited grin on his face boyish. It's contagious-- you can't help but smile, too-- but then he catches sight of you and he stiffens, grin fading.

“You,” he starts, abrupt in the sudden silence. You’re not sure exactly what you would’ve said if you’d been thinking straight, but what ends up coming out of your mouth is:

“Gavin! Your dunk was really cool!”

“Yeah?”

He looks away, bouncing the ball idly a few times.

“You don’t like basketball that much, though?”

“It’s not that-- it’s more like I’m scared of it.”

“Why?”

He’s looking at you again, expression open, curious. You realize belatedly that this is maybe the most relaxed you’ve ever been around him, the thought bringing a touch of pink to your cheeks.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, just someone in PE hit me with a ball one time. So now, I find it a little scary.”

“Watching you and Minor play, though,” you continue, “and seeing how much you two enjoy it makes it a little less frightening.”

You smile at him again, and he’s silent for a long moment. You panic a little internally-- have you said too much? But then he responds, almost too low for you to hear.

“I could teach you to play. If you wanted.”

You nod.

“I’d like that,” you say, and it comes out quieter, a little hopeful, your cheeks still tinged with a blush. It feels like a moment, or the edge of a moment, a hair’s-breadth away from something, though you wouldn’t be able to name it even if someone were to ask.

Even when Minor finally shows up, you fancy you can still feel it stretching between you and Gavin, that thread of something, something more.

Days pass in that fashion, Minor practicing with a vengeance, without a word to you and Gavin as the two of you orbit each other, almost. There’s a day when Gavin brings his book again, and settles down beside you, only to fall asleep in the middle of reading it, his head dropping dangerously close to your shoulder.

Minor grins at the sight when he stops for a drink of water.

“I was able to concentrate today-- I was wondering why, but it’s because my number one fan’s asleep!”

An awkward moment passes as you both stare in silence at Gavin’s sleeping form. You like to think that he looks softer like this, all his hard stares and glares and furrowed brows smoothed out.

“I’m sorry about getting mad that time,” Minor says without looking at you. “None of what they said was your fault, Sis. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

"It's fine. You had every right to be upset. Just next time-- I want to be a friend who can listen and help, alright? If you'll let me."

Before you can say another word, Minor pulls you into a hug.

"Of course I will, Sis!"

Just like that, any remaining awkwardness between you dissolves, and you joke and talk like normal.

“Minor, the other day I saw Gavin playing, and I was just wondering…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll finish the thought before you have to say it aloud. Minor tips his head.

“Why isn’t he teaching me?”

You nod, looking away. He laughs, but it sounds a little sad.

“You know, Gavin, he taught me how to fight. I kept following him after he saved me that one time, and saw how he saved other people too with those fists, so I asked him to teach me. And he did.”

“But this, you know, I just feel like it’s something I have to do on my own, somehow. I asked him not to teach me, told him he didn’t have to come. ”

He smiles to himself.

“He came, anyway.”

Then, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes,

“I wonder if it was for me, though.”

You blush and don't reply.

When Gavin finally wakes up, Minor drops a bombshell. He's challenged the bullies to a basketball match. A basketball match that's starting in less than an hour.

“Two-versus-three? You’re on.”

Gavin’s voice is carefully bored, but when you look over at him, there’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes. For the first time since the start of the summer, he shrugs off his hoodie, tossing it aside as he moves to the middle of the court to join Minor.

“Good luck!” You call to them.

Minor flashes you a thumbs up and a grin. Gavin throws you a single nod over his shoulder. Then, the bullies arrive and the game begins.

You can't help the way your eyes follow the motion of Gavin's toned arms, the flex of his well-muscled shoulders-- for all you'd heard stories about him getting into fights, it had never occurred to you what exactly that meant in terms of, well, his physical fitness. Specifically, how built he is under the hoodie he always wears. If you were more shameless, you're sure you'd take the opportunity to raise your camera and capture a physique you can only describe as art. You consider yourself lucky that they're both so caught up in the game that they don't notice your pronounced blush and can't hear your extensive internal commentary.

You can't really say you're being biased-- you're sure anyone with eyes can see that he's made to be an athlete (there's a fluidity to his movements that you're sure even poets would be at a loss for words at). And, for all he teased Minor for the other boy's NBA obsession, even your unpracticed eye can tell: Gavin's good at basketball. There's something about the way he passes the ball to Minor, the way none of the other team's throws make it past him: it speaks of an ease that's only possible through months, years even, of experience.

It's no wonder Gavin and Minor win, easily. You think that Minor probably would've won, even without Gavin's help.

Nevertheless, the moment the game’s over, Minor runs over to crush you in a warm, sweaty hug. After a moment, he pulls back, grinning.

“I won!”

Gavin clears his throat. Minor’s grin widens and he turns to Gavin, beckoning him to join. After a moment, Gavin lets himself be pulled into the embrace.

“We won.”

(You notice in hindsight that Minor's the one who landed all of their team's shots.

Even more in hindsight, you remember the wind being particularly strong that day-- none of the shots of the bully's team had ever gotten close to the basket.

"Gavin, that day, the wind--" you start, as you gaze at the empty court, the two of you surely thinking of that same summer.

"He would've won either way," Gavin responds before you can finish. "But I wanted to make a point."

His eyes flash for a moment when they settle on yours, sharp and angry, and you remember the way the bully had taunted you, too. You swallow, and give Gavin a small smile, and maybe he sees a bit of his anger reflected in your gaze, because he reaches out and takes your hand without a word, holds it tight.)

After the game, the rest of the summer passes in a blur. Minor still practices his shots in the court just outside of Sunshine Alley, but Gavin stops teasing him about joining the NBA. One afternoon when you get there, camera in hand, Gavin has a split lip and bruised knuckles, Minor a black eye, and neither responds when you ask what happened and why.

You never see the bully or his friends again, but Minor'll swear up and down he and Gavin had nothing to do with it.

Some days, Minor doesn't bring his basketball, and you trail behind him as he makes the long walk to the track behind the school, Gavin, silent, at your side. The first time, you realize you've worn the wrong shoes when the backs of your sandals begin to dig red marks into your heels, and you have to take a moment to sit and pull them off, rubbing your feet. Gavin lingers beside you, and you try to shoo him after Minor's retreating back, but he waits until you're ready to walk again, and keeps pace with your pained steps. The next time Minor wants to run, Gavin's brought his motorcycle, and though you also wear more sensible shoes, you don't turn down the ride he offers.

"We'll meet you there," Gavin tosses over his shoulder as Minor salutes. You let your hands rest as lightly as possible on his back, and when he doesn't turn to look back at you the whole ride, you and your burning red cheeks are glad.

When you get to the empty lot by the track, your blush seems unwarranted-- Gavin offers Minor a spin around the lot, and a ride back, which the other boy eagerly accepts. While they ride, you crouch and capture pictures of the flowers blooming through cracks in the concrete, the blur of the motorcycle in the distance. After, they run, and you chase after them with a laugh to capture that too, their backs illuminated by the fading summer light.

Gavin lets you sit behind him on his bike again one late summer evening after Minor's gone home and you blush when he pulls your arms a little more firmly around his waist and tells you, with a grin, to not let go this time.

You protest. It had only been once that you'd almost fallen off and that was because there had been three of you, you and him and Minor behind, and really, Minor had pulled you off-- but your indignant words are lost as he guns the engine, his chest shaking with laughter.

The wind steals the sound of his chuckles as the motorcycle leaps forward, tugs the tie from your messy braid and spins your hair into a fan, opened in the bike's wake. Gavin accelerates and you shoot across the lot, chasing the fading rays of sun, to the end of the horizon and looping around to the start. He looks back just once, amber eyes shining with more than just the sunset gold, and you're sure the grin on your face is just as wide as his.

You drive in circles until you're both dizzy and you press your cheek to his warm back, both of you shaking with breathless laughter, and you think recklessly, you don't want this to ever end, even though you both know that the coming school year is Gavin's last, one more summer and then he'll be gone, because this is a moment almost profound, golden like the setting sun, and moments like these, like the already darkening sky, are never meant to last.

(It doesn't.)

That year, you see Gavin confront another boy in an alley. Cash passes in the space between them, from the boy's shaking hand to Gavin's open palm. You think you make a sound, maybe a quiet gasp, but Gavin's head turns, your eyes meet-- it's the same amber gaze as always, but you've never seen him so cold and angry-- and you bolt.

He never explains it to you. He never gets a chance to explain it to you. Time crawls by, and you see him less and less-- though you're never quite sure who's avoiding who-- until it's just Minor and you, and then just you and Minor's shaky smile, Minor pressing a bloody letter in your hand.

You don't need his "it's from Gavin." You don't open it, not the whole year.

By the time you finally decide to leave it at the bottom of your nightstand's drawers, the ginkgo buds are starting to bloom, and Gavin's graduated, somehow, gone.

You still pass by the basketball court every day on the way home. You still eat late night dinners with Minor in Lynn’s Kitchen when your father says he’ll be home late.

You leave a post-it note on the wall one time, when you go to eat alone.

I hate it when people leave without saying goodbye.

Minor leaves when you two go to different colleges. Your other high school friends scatter, too, petals caught in the wind, whether they go to Loveland University with you or not, you drift apart.

Two years into college, you get the phone call from the hospital. It’s your father , the nurse on the line says, and you don’t want to hear the rest.

When you’re old enough to inherit your father’s production company, you fight for it-- every new episode of Miracle Finder is yours, forged from tears and sleepless nights, team meetings with Willow and Kiki and ever-faithful Anna, gritted teeth and forced smiles as you strain and strain and strain, as you bow your head to the show’s patrons and bite back anger at their condescension, at their false condolences and greedy eyes.

Then the last episode of Miracle Finder airs, and it has better reviews than its predecessors have had in a while, thanks to Professor Lucien and his easy charm. You congratulate your crew, and make sure to thank them all profusely by treating them to a company dinner.

But when you watch the aired episode in the dark and quiet of your own apartment, and the credits roll with their nostalgic music, one last time, it feels a little like losing your father all over again. He’s gone again, without a goodbye.

You vent at Victor. He accepts your proposal, but gives you an absurd deadline to meet, and you’re floundering all over again. The company, yours to preserve, one last fading memory of your father’s legacy, put on the line. Again.

You strain. This is one thing, you vow to yourself, you’ll never let leave without a proper goodbye.

But Gavin comes back-- and it feels like a vicious cycle in your life’s been broken. You hold onto the company. And, finally, you remember what it feels like to not only survive, holding on by the barest inch, but to flourish. You come back together, in fits and starts. He saves you, in more ways than one.

"What are you thinking about?" Gavin asks you now as you stare at the empty basketball court of a summer long since gone. You're sure if you look close enough, there'll be flowers growing through the cracks now there in the concrete just like the ones you'd photographed once upon a time. And maybe you’ll never get that summer back, but Gavin came back, and he's here with you now, to see the gingko leaves fall and bloom again, to see this sunset, and this time, it doesn't feel like a moment. It feels like it could last forever.

You tip your head up to grin at him.

"Will you let me ride with you on Sparky home?"

He smiles back, soft and sweet and just for you, and you know, he remembers too.

"Don't let go this time," he says, and when he puts his spare helmet over your head, his hands linger, his eyes on yours. I remember everything, he seems to say.

Your heart skips more than a few beats, but you don't look away, and the wind picks up, too, sending gingko leaves swirling through the air around you both. As you look up at him, you fancy the glow of his eyes outshines the setting sun.

"I won't," you reply at last, and what you mean but don't say is I remember it all, too.

You rub your fingers over the bracelet around your wrist, and when he starts the motorcycle, and the two of you speed away in the fading gold light, you press your nose into his warm shoulder, listen to the sound of his steady heartbeats, and hold on tight.

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mlqc bai qi #val writes #tbh i wasn't too happy with the flow of the fic when i first posted it but rereading it im satisfied with how it turned out ^^#skldgjklsd i just realized. this is the second gavin fic about summer im posting in the fall-

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