#the next obsession was train time tables... not the trains but the schedules they lived under KSKSKKSD

[estapa-edwards]

"Team Sweetheart" and "Physical Therapist" are so gorgeous I've reread them both like 10 times! They leave me so full of butterflies I am positively buzzing! May I please make a request with Jack and a girl who has no knowledge/familiarity with hockey, or any sports for that matter? Maybe just them introducing eachother to their interests/worlds as their relationship develops and it's just nice to be with someone a bit removed from what Jack's life is centered around. Idk if that makes sense please ignore this if you don't like it.

CONNECTION - J . HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x reader

word count: 2k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Jack Hughes walked into the quiet café, eager for a break from the relentless pace of his hockey-centered life. The New Jersey Devils had been having a grueling season, and every moment off the ice felt like a precious escape. The café, tucked away in a corner of downtown Newark, had become his haven. Today, however, he was greeted by an unfamiliar face behind the counter.

“Hi, welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get you?” the girl asked with a warm smile. Her name tag read "Y/N."

Jack glanced at the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers flying over the buttons of the register. “Coming right up. Are you from around here?”

Jack hesitated. Despite his growing fame, he still enjoyed the anonymity of casual encounters. “Yeah, I live nearby. What about you?”

Y/N handed him his change and started preparing his coffee. “I just moved here for school. Trying to get the hang of the city and all.”

Jack smiled. “It’s a great place once you get to know it. What are you studying?”

“Art history. I know, it’s not exactly the most practical major, but it’s my passion,” she said with a slight laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”

Jack paused, unsure of how to respond. “I’m... in sports,” he said vaguely.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hesitation. “Any particular sport?”

“Hockey,” he admitted. “I play for the New Jersey Devils.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, I don’t really follow sports. But that sounds impressive!”

Jack chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of refreshing to meet someone who isn’t obsessed with hockey.”

Y/N handed him his coffee. “Well, I’m glad I could provide a break from the norm. Enjoy your coffee!”

As Jack took a seat by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had met in a long time. He found himself looking forward to his next visit to the café.

--- --- --- 

Over the next few weeks, Jack found himself returning to Brewed Awakening more often. Each time, he and Y/N would chat for a few minutes, their conversations growing more personal with each encounter. Jack learned that Y/N was passionate about art, spending her weekends exploring museums and galleries. She, in turn, learned about Jack’s rigorous training schedule and the pressures of professional sports.

One rainy afternoon, Jack entered the café, drenched from practice. Y/N greeted him with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”

“Just a long one,” he replied, shaking off his wet jacket. “Do you have a break coming up? I’d love to hear more about this art thing you’re always talking about.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I do. Give me five minutes to finish up here.”

A few minutes later, Y/N joined Jack at his table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. “So, where should I start?”

“Tell me about your favorite artist,” Jack suggested, genuinely curious.

Y/N’s face brightened. “That’s a tough one, but I’d have to say Vincent van Gogh. His work is so emotional and raw. There’s something incredibly moving about the way he saw the world.”

Jack listened intently as Y/N described van Gogh’s turbulent life and vibrant paintings. He found himself captivated by her passion and the way she brought the art to life with her words.

“You should come to the museum with me sometime,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I think you’d really enjoy it.”

Jack smiled. “I’d like that. And maybe I can take you to a hockey game in return?”

Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to explain everything to me. I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”

Jack chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”

--- --- --- 

Their first outing together was to the Newark Museum of Art. Jack was out of his element but excited to see the world through Y/N’s eyes. As they wandered through the galleries, Y/N explained the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.

“This is one of my favorites,” she said, stopping in front of a large, colorful painting. “It’s called ‘Starry Night Over the Rhône’ by van Gogh. Look at the way the stars and the reflections in the water create this almost dreamlike scene.”

Jack stared at the painting, trying to see it the way Y/N did. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally. “I can see why you like it so much.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Art has always been a way for me to escape, to see the world differently.”

Jack nodded, understanding more than he expected. “Hockey is like that for me. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades away.”

A few days later, it was Y/N’s turn to step into Jack’s world. She had agreed to attend one of his games, despite her lack of knowledge about hockey. Jack had arranged for her to have a prime seat, and as she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The arena was buzzing with energy, fans cheering and waving signs. Y/N watched in awe as the players took to the ice, their speed and skill mesmerizing. She spotted Jack, his focus intense as he prepared for the game.

Throughout the match, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering along with the crowd even though she didn’t fully understand the rules. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time Jack made a play, his talent and dedication evident in every move.

After the game, Jack met her outside the locker room, still in his gear and grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was amazing!” Y/N exclaimed. “I had no idea hockey could be so intense. You were incredible out there.”

Jack laughed, relieved that she had enjoyed herself. “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can make a fan out of you yet.”

Y/N smiled. “Maybe. But only if you keep coming to art galleries with me.”

“Deal,” Jack agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him. Despite their different worlds, he felt a connection with Y/N that he hadn’t felt with anyone else.

--- --- --- 

​​As the weeks turned into months, Jack and Y/N grew closer, finding comfort in their contrasting interests. They delighted in introducing each other to new experiences, each outing deepening their bond.

One sunny Saturday, Jack found himself at a local art supply store with Y/N. She was on a mission to find the perfect set of watercolors for a new project. Jack followed her through the aisles, amused by her enthusiasm.

"Do you paint?" Jack asked, curious.

"I dabble," Y/N replied with a grin. "Mostly for fun, though. It’s a great way to relax and let my mind wander."

Jack picked up a brush, twirling it between his fingers. "Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’ve never really done anything like this."

Y/N’s eyes lit up. "I’d love to! It’s really not about being perfect, just about expressing yourself."

A few days later, Y/N set up a makeshift studio in her apartment, covering the table with newspapers and setting out a variety of paints and brushes. Jack arrived, looking both excited and apprehensive.

"Ready to become the next Van Gogh?" Y/N teased, handing him a canvas.

Jack laughed. "I think that might be a stretch, but I’m ready to give it a shot."

As they painted side by side, Y/N offered gentle guidance, encouraging Jack to experiment with colors and shapes. Despite his initial uncertainty, Jack found himself enjoying the process. It was a welcome change from the structured, high-pressure world of hockey.

"You’re a natural," Y/N said, admiring Jack’s painting of a snowy landscape.

Jack shook his head with a chuckle. "I think you’re just being nice, but thanks. This is actually really fun."

Y/N smiled, pleased to see Jack so relaxed. "See? I knew you’d enjoy it."

Their relationship continued to flourish, each new experience bringing them closer together. Jack took Y/N to more games, patiently explaining the rules and strategies. Y/N, in turn, took Jack to more art exhibits and even a few art classes.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a quiet diner, sharing a plate of fries. Jack looked at Y/N, feeling a surge of gratitude.

"You know, I never thought I’d enjoy learning about art so much," Jack admitted. "But being with you has opened my eyes to so many new things."

Y/N reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "And I never thought I’d enjoy sports, but you’ve made it so much fun. It’s nice to have someone to share these experiences with."

Jack smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite their different backgrounds, they had found a way to connect on a profound level. It was a rare and precious thing, and Jack knew he wanted to hold onto it.

--- --- ---

As their relationship grew stronger, Jack and Y/N began to face the challenges that came with their differing worlds. Jack’s demanding schedule often kept them apart, and Y/N’s art exhibitions sometimes took her to different cities.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week of practice and games, Jack called Y/N, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I miss you," he admitted. "It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages."

Y/N sighed, feeling the distance keenly. "I miss you too. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it. How about we plan something special for next weekend? Just us."

Jack’s spirits lifted at the thought. "That sounds perfect. Let’s go somewhere quiet, away from everything."

The following weekend, they escaped to a cabin in the woods, a peaceful retreat where they could unwind and reconnect. They spent their days hiking through the forest, cooking meals together, and sitting by the fire, talking about everything and nothing.

One evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the sunset, Jack took Y/N’s hand. "I’m really glad we’re doing this," he said softly. "It’s exactly what I needed."

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s nice to just be us, without all the noise."

As they sat in comfortable silence, Jack realized how much Y/N meant to him. She had become his anchor, a source of joy and calm in his hectic life. He knew their relationship wasn’t always easy, but he was willing to face any challenge as long as they were together.

With the hockey season winding down, Jack finally had more time to spend with Y/N. They began to talk about their future, their conversations filled with excitement and hope.

One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a local park, lying on a blanket and watching the clouds drift by. Jack turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Have you ever thought about what comes next for us?" he asked.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "I think about it all the time. I want us to keep exploring new things together, to keep supporting each other’s passions."

Jack nodded, feeling a sense of certainty. "I want that too. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Your dreams are just as important as mine."

Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jack’s face. "And I’m here for you, always. We’ll figure it out together."

As they lay there, hand in hand, Jack knew they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives. It wouldn’t always be easy, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready for anything. They had built a strong foundation, one based on mutual respect and a genuine love for each other’s worlds. And as they looked towards the future, they knew that together, they could face whatever came their way.

[kennahjune]

HI OMG HELLO

Just a little obsessed with the whole “projecting my interests onto Steve” train I have going so here ya go—

Steve who has an interest in mythology of just about any kind but specifically Greek Mythology because “holy shit everyone’s gay.”

Steve’s hosting the usual Saturday hangout at his house because it’s the one time everyone’s schedules line up. He’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, Robin on the floor to his right and Dustin to his left. Everyone else is spread among the couches and armchair, squeezing together in a way that seems more uncomfortable and over heated than the Devil’s asscrack.

Dustin was going on a ramble about something science-y. Robin and Mike would cut in occasionally with their own arguments and begin a whole new debate. Steve wasn’t paying much attention though.

His focus was on Eddie, who was staring intently at the living room window. Specifically the one that held his mothers flower vases.

When there was a break in the argument where everyone caught their breaths and gathered their thoughts, Eddie struck.

“What kind of flowers are those?” He pointed at the light yellow vase with a complicated floral pattern.

Steve paused and debated answering. He knew it was a trap. The flowers in that vase held a long story— one that everyone in the room would be subjected to hearing if Steve couldn’t help himself.

But Eddie was looking at his expectantly, Dustin tilting his head in curiosity, and even Mike eyeing him with a genuine wonderment.

So, Steve naturally conceded. “They’re hyacinths.”

Argyle whistled lowly. “Pretty name.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah well— they get their name from one of the prettiest people in history. In my opinion anyway.”

That seemed to pique everyone’s interest. Bad move on Steve’s part. At this rate, he’s gonna crack and go on a rant. Nobody wants to listen to his rants.

“Who do they get their name from?” Will asked, pulling his feet up to sit crisscross on the armchair. Mike was sat right next to him on the seat, squished into the arm but making no complaints. Mike nodded at Will’s question, as if agreeing that he also wanted to know.

Steve shifted and pulled one leg to his chest, resting his arm on it and fiddling with his hands. He avoided eye contact with just about anyone, before cracking a little more and looking at Robin.

With the nod she gave him, Steve felt himself break.

“They get their name from the Roman Prince Hyacinthus.”

Nancy hummed and took a sip from her Coke. She waved her hand as if urging him on. Steve continued.

“Um— well Hyacinthus was a Roman Prince beloved by all, including the God Apollo—“

“But isn’t Apollo a guy?” Mike interrupted. Looking over, Steve saw the pure curiosity and something that looked like hesitation on his face. Next to Mike, Will looked equally if-not-more hesitant but also very happy (?).

Steve allowed himself a small grin and nodded. “He is indeed. Hyacinthus is actually the first openly gay Greek character that we know of.” Steve’s smile brightened at the grin that made itself present on Will’s face and look of pure endearment on Mike’s.

“Anyways— Apollo fell in love with Hyacinthus but so did Zephyros, the God of the West Winds. Hyacinthus chose Apollo over Zephyros, however. And one day while Apollo and Hyacinthus were being all couple-y or whatever in the fields and playing discus, Zephyros took advantage of the winds and sent a discus spiraling straight at Hyacinthus and it ended up killing him on impact.”

He paused to take a breath, the story taking hold of him. Steve could feel the rush of excitement at finally talking about it— this story was his favorite and the next part always got him.

Among his break, he looked up and started at Eddie’s eyes on him. Of course, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Eddie’s shone with such a fondness that Steve felt himself having to do a minor breathing exercise to calm his heart down.

He cleared his throat with a cough and picked up where he left off, tilting his eyes down and keeping them on his fidgeting hands.

“Well— um, it was typical ‘if I can’t have you no one can’ fashion but the death shook Apollo to his very core and after trying everything in his power to get Hyacinthus back he finally gave in and grew the hyacinth flowers from the grass wherever Hyacinthus’ blood touched ‘to keep him in the sun where he belonged’.”

And with that, Steve looked around at everyone in the room. El’s eyes were filled with wonderment. Sitting next to her, Max looked shocked— though, at the story or Steve, he was unsure.

Jonathan had a small smile playing at his lips as well as Nancy. Argyle gave him a thumbs up and a “cool”.

Mike and Will were both seemingly buzzing with excitement and joy, Steve could see it in their eyes and on the matching grins they wore.

Dustin and Lucas— the latter sitting behind Steve on the couch— we’re both grinning at Steve and talking over each other, trying to tell him several different things at once.

But over the chaos surrounding him, Steve’s eyes were drawn to Eddie’s. Doe eyes filled with fondness and endearment. Steve’s grin turned to a bashful smile and he was quick to turn away.

He instead focused on Dustin and Lucas, pretending to not notice when Will followed Mike to the kitchen. From the knowing glint in Jonathan’s eyes, he also knew what was happening. They shared a snort and cheersed their Coke cans.

When the night was over and Steve was fresh out of mythology tales to tell the Party, everyone began leaving.

Mike, Will, and El left with Jonathan and Argyle. Nancy drove Robin, Dustin, Lucas and Erica as well as Max— who was spending the night at the Sinclair’s.

It was when Steve went to clean the living room that he noticed he never saw Eddie leave.

Instead, the metal head was standing by the window in the living room. The same window with the hyacinths. Steve furrowed his brow in confusion and walked over.

The moment Steve was within reaching distance, Eddie pulled him into his side. Steve let out an ‘oof’ sound, and caught himself on Eddie’s chest. Rather than pulling away from the other, Steve made himself comfortable and settled into Eddie’s side with his head on his shoulder.

“I love hearing you ramble,” was the last thing Steve heard before Eddie kissed him soundly.

[alienaiver]

ok i'm gonna be ur procrastination enabler >:3 15, 16, 17 for your ask game!

YELL HEA BLESS U 🫶🏼🧡🧡 THANK U FOR THESEEEE

15. what's the weirdest thing that's happened to you?

uh! i dont know actually! i think this one time where i came to a birthday party in an old thrifted blue dress shirt (with a pattern) and pants i'd had for 10 years and someone came in the exact same pair of pants and shirt KSKSSK that was.. a strange coincidence to say the least !!

16. a netflix series that's your favorite?

HMMM heartstopper !!!! x 1000!! ive read the comic since it came out and it was such a wonderful experience to see the series, they did an amazing job!!

17. an earliest obsession you remember?

wires! i found them SO fascinating at the tender age of 5 - i kept trying to break open any wire i could get my hands on, because i wanted to see and understand the tiny wires inside KSNSNSNSN my parents bought me a book about electricity that they read aloud to me to make me leave the wires alone 🤓😂

weird asks game!

[lfc21]

Once a winner, always a winner

Such a good moment between Tsimikas and Trent after the Carabao Cup final

_

Kostas Tsimikas. A player with a million and one amazing things about him and his football abilities wasn't even the start of it. You had lived in Liverpool your whole life and knew it would be your forever home. From a young age you had started to plan your life out and knew exactly what things you wanted to accomplish, one of them was to meet your soul mate. You forever said you wanted to meet someone who supported liverpool aswell as the city the football club represented but everyday you started to think it wasn't going to happen, until one day. You met the Greek Scouser! A man you saw on the tv and fell in love with, then the man you saw stud at the corner flag at Anfield, then the man who you woke up to every single morning. Your plan wasn't to fall in love with a Premier league left back but you certainly wasn't complaining. Kostas was an incredible player before you had both met but you could of sworn his football became better and better when he started to date an obsessive Liverpool fan.

Liverpool had a match against Crystal Palace at 4 o'clock but due to your busy work schedule you would of never been able to make it to anfield in time so you had to settle with watching it at yours and kostas's house. You didn't mind too much when you had to watch it at home as you could enjoy the football with your dogs aswell as that you could scream and sing the songs and not become slightly embarrassed as you where hardly beyonce. The game had been a tense and tight game causing you to sit on the end of the couch with your dogs doing the exact same thing. Kostas had started the game and been amazing he had finished the game with 2 assists and won man of the match and you couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend.

After the match you started to clean up the living room which was mostly filled with dog toys and kostas's training clothes which he had started to look threw yesterday in a state of panic to see what he was going to travel down to London in. The sun had gone in creating huge amounts of glitter like stars to dance around the sky creating a cosy and inviting feeling through the large house. You started to light some candles on the coffee table until the front door burst open causing you to stop immediately.

"Wheres my favourite girl?!" Kostas shouted dropping his bags of at the door due to the excitement and happiness he had running threw his body due to one of his best performances at Liverpool.

"Hello you!" You said with a huge smile as he walked through the door way into the living room. You dropped the lighter onto the coffee table next to a pile of vogue magazines and ran to your boyfriend wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands around his neck.

"I'm so proud of you darling" you said with a smile kissing his lips softly with pure love.

"Me too" kostas laughed due to his limited amount of words being able to fall from his mouth because of your constant kissing. You giggled softly at his laughs and stopped kissing him so he could breathe.

"You did amazing" you cheered jumping off your boyfriend as he tugged off his hoodie revealing his extremely toned and fit body.

"Thats what I kept wishing for, so it's about time it came true" he joked throwing himself to the large couch next to your dogs letting a huge breathe fall from his mouth at the feeling of comfort which was definitely not what he received sitting next to James milner the whole way home as he snored his way through every motorway and street.

"Oh shut up! You always play amazing, it's just now you get to show case it more often" you smiled sitting on his knee looking at his soft brown eyes which where admiring the site infront of him. Your hand made its way into his blonde curly hair causing his eyes to fall shut at the feeling of comfort and love.

"Whatever you say Mrs, but your obviously going to say that! I'm your boyfriend" he replied speaking with an obvious tone as he always had a lack of confidence when it came to you truly being proud of his performance as he had alot to work towards. You looked at him with a gentle stare admiring his honesty and humble emotion that he showed towards you.

"I'm not going to sit here and lie to you darling, your amazing and deserve a huge amount of credit for your games. Trust me I will tell you if your slightly shit" you laughed making him chuckle at your clear honesty towards him. His hand fell into yours, intertwining his fingers through yours he couldn't help but feel proud at his actions from today which made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"Right what do you want for tea?" You questioned reaching out of kostas's grasp to head into the kitchen. Kostas's hands fell onto your waist and pulled you back down onto his lap.

"Stay here babe, I know what I want for tea" he laughed and smashed his lips into yours clearly feeling extremely cheeky. You giggled into the kiss as you definitely knew kostas would have a certain present in mind for his hard work.

I hope you liked this one! Please leave feedback in the comment section it would mean alot! Favourite accounts at the moment: @prettylittletrent @avenirdelight @mrs-henderson @weddingdisco

[y0itsbri]

Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

--

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

--

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

--

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.

[miracleonice87]

anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.

a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy! 

warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex

_____

Firsts

first night…

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.

You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.

“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.

As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.

“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.

“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”

Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.

“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.

You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.

“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.

As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.

“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.

“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.

“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”

Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.

“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”

“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.

_____

first fight…

It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.

As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.

Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.

It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.

One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.

“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.

“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”

Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.

You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.

“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.

Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.

“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.

You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”

Yep, he was pissed.

After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.

You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“

“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.

With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.

“Yes,” was all you could manage.

Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.

“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”

As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.

“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.

With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.

“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”

You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.

“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.

Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.

“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.

You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.

“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.

“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”

Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”

You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.

_____

first game…

As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.

“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.

“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.

“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.

Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”

You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.

“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”

“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly. 

Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life. 

[her-world-on-fire]

Public Eye {Jason Todd x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 2,933    

A/N: Sorry I meant to have this out weeks ago, but I ended up rewriting it entirely. <3

Request:  Hi!!!!! I just started reading all your fics and i love them so much. if  it’s not too much to ask can you write one where jason and like a  rockstar or actress meet and have a thing, but hes not sure whether it  will work out because of how much attention she gets from the media?  Thank you so much and i hope you are doing well and staying safe❤️✨

JASON ADJUSTED the buttons of his shirt once more. His hands trailed to his collar bone, he undid another button. He hated wearing dress shirts. He knew Bruce would throw a fit if he didn’t. He had to try to blend in. He always hated going to these benefits. There was always a chance he could be recognized. That was the last thing he needed. Every time someone made eye contact with him, he tensed up. His face was scarred, there was no hiding it. His hands were calloused and full of cuts and bruises. He kept his hands crossed over his chest or inside the pockets of his slacks.

Bruce had asked him to come to his office, there was nothing good about that. He knocked on the door before entering. Bruce, Tim, Dick an Damien were already there. Each of them dressed for the occasion. Tim had finally ran a comb through his hair. Dick had shaved. Even Damian looked presentable. Bruce gave Jason a short nod. “I have assignments for each of you. We have several high profile targets all in one room.” Bruce was hosting his annual gala. He was raising money for charities by auctioning off several intricate gadgets produced by Lucius Fox. Some of the richest people in Gotham were to be in attendance.

“I’m giving you each a sector. I assigned tables with consideration. Make sure your guests stay where they are supposed to. Keep an eye on any suspicious guests.” The boys all nodded and Bruce showed a map on the screen. He had the room divided into 5 quadrants. He assigned the quadrants, “Tim sent the file to your phones. Do not loose your guests. They start arriving in 5 minutes. I suggest you get down there.”

The boys exited the room. All of them looking at their phones to see their guests. All but Jason. The last thing he wanted to do was babysit rich brats for the night. He knew most of them didn’t care about the charity. They were there to show off their money. They wanted the tech. Most of them were corrupt species of shit. They were born into old money and never worked a day in their life. A silver spoon in their mouth. They made him just as sick as the criminals he fought every night.

“Holy shit, look at Jason’s table.”

“Y/N and--” Jason didn’t hear the second name. He stopped in his tracks. He pulled out his phone, he had to be sure. He looked over the table. Y/N L/N. Dick looked back at Jason. The two boys went ahead. “Do you need me to talk to Bruce-” Jason shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Well you don’t look fine.”

Y/N was a family friend. They grew up together and were very close. That was until Jason took on the role of Robin. He became obsessed. He spent all of his time training, and he neglected his friend. Y/N had moved away to pursue a career in music. He read about his childhood friend in the papers. 

Y/N donates 5 million for displaced youth.

The lists went on and on. Y/N wanted to help and make a difference. They spoke now and again when Y/N came back home. But they had been touring for the past 2 years.

He had never gotten a chance to formally apologize. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

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

I opened the door, and the flashes of cameras bombarded me. It was difficult to navigate. The flashes were extremely bright, trying to capture any imperfection. I kept my head forward and walked quickly inside the building. I tried to get out of the benefit. I left a generous donation and planned on staying in for the night.

Bruce insisted I attend. I caved. I still had jet lag from the trip back. I had just left Spain after wrapping up a tour. I didn’t anticipate I would be flying back home. The door man helped me in. Reporters were hollering over each other like vultures. I thanked the man and he handed me a card. Table B3. I walked down the corridor, my eyes still adjusting to the light.

The walls were covered in intricate art. Bruce always had an appreciation for the arts. I decided to admire it as I braced myself for a long night. Most just walked right by, not even giving a glance at the art before them. I took a closer look and admired the seamless blend. I noticed at the top of the stairs there was a group of men. I recognized all three. Dick Grayson, the eldest of Bruce’s adopted children. Tim Drake, the 19 year CEO and second youngest son. And Jason Todd. His eyes had been fixed somewhere else. Dick nudged him, and his eyes met mine. He stood up straight.

I looked back at the art work. We hadn’t had a formal conversation on years. We had just made passing conversations. Nothing intricate.

“Hey.” Jason called, and I looked at the bottom of the stairs where he was standing. I approached him. “Hey.” I replied.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here.” I shrugged laughing a little, “I didn’t either. I was going to stay in but Bruce insisted I come. I couldn’t say no.” He chuckled. It was definitely something he would do. Jason was sure he had his reasons. But more importantly, he knew that Jason needed to resolve a few things.

“You look great.” He pointed out. I smiled, as I felt the blood rush to my face. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Jason paused. He looked like he was in deep thought. Just as he was about to say something, Bruce’s voice came over the intercom. He requested that everyone be seated. Jason extended his elbow, and escorted me to my table.

“You’re not going to sit here?”

“I would love to, but Bruce has us working.”

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

We were 3 hours in and I was just on my last legs. My chin rested on my hand. The man at my side had been trying to talk to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but the jet lag was really effecting me. I didn’t have a chance to acclimate to the new time zone. The alcohol didn’t help much either.

I smiley politely, “Excuse me.” I got up from the table and walked back to the entrance. I had stayed 3 hours, that had to be enough for Bruce. I moved into the bathroom. I sighed as I leaned against the sink. The lack of sleep was starting to show. I had a hectic schedule back in Spain. Early morning shoots that lasted until late hours of the night. Publicity events and meetings with managers. I wanted nothing more than to just be in my bed for the rest of the night.

I decided I was leaving. I didn’t call my personal driver. I didn’t want to bother him. He deserved a night off. I exited the bathroom and pulled out my phone. I looked up, and saw Jason. The door opening turned his head in my direction.

“Everything alright?” He asked. I nodded, “I just needed a break from that table.” I joked, he nodded a small chuckle coming from his lips.

“These just aren’t really for me. I was just about to head out. It was nice to see you again.” I moved to the stairs. The few drinks I had were starting to take effect. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but the stairs looked wobbly. “Do you have a car coming for you?” He asked, and I turned back slowly. I looked at him and nodded slowly. Judging by the look in his eyes, not very convincingly. Somehow, he knew I was lying. “I could take you.”

I shook my head, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

He walked over and raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think you should go out by yourself tonight.”

“I’m completely fine.” I turned to walk back down the stairs, and I hovered over the next step. I could feel myself loose balance. I left a strong arm pull me back. “What was that?”

I lost track of time. When I came to I was inside a car. I inhaled deeply and looked to my left. Jason looked over. “Look who’s awake.” I ran my hands through my hair. I could feel the headache in the back of my head starting to form. “I guess this isn’t how you imagined spending your night.” I looked over and he shook his head. “Those aren’t my thing either. You gave me an out.”

It brought a smile to my lips. I looked outside of the window. I had missed it. “Every time I come back, I forget how beautiful it is.” Jason turned to me, curiosity glimmered in his eyes. “What brought you back?”

“I have a project I need to oversee.” I tried to stay away. I had lived in a few different places, but none of them ever felt like home. I always found myself longing for Gotham’s skyline. Something just kept bringing me back.

We arrived not long after. I moved to get out by myself but Jason rushed to my side of the door. He helped me out. I leaned against him and held me up. I stumbled inside. “Do you think you can make it okay?” I nodded, and once again he saw right through it. He helped me up the stairs. “I’m so tired of all these goddamn stairs.” Jason laughed, he was handling this very well. He didn’t struggle supporting me against him. His breath didn’t falter as he walked up all the steps to my bedroom.

He opened the door and helped me sit on the bed. “I swear I’m not always like this. Jet lag and alcohol, but never again.” His blue eyes glimmered with fascination. “Get some sleep.”

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

I woke up to my head pounding. I began to regret those drinks.  When I looked at my phone I saw I had a missed call from Jason. I called back and he informed me I had left a few things in his car.

I arrived at Jason’s apartment. I tried my best to be as inconspicuous as possible. I came alone, and wore dark sunglasses and a baseball cap. Jason greeted me at his doorstep. I walked in and he closed the door behind me. I hadn’t seen any press. It seemed we were in the clear.

He invited me to sit down. “How’s that headache?” I laughed, “I’m hanging in. I’m not sure if I thanked you in my drunken haze. But thank you for getting me home last night, I really appreciate it.”

“It was nothing, really.”

A silence washed over us. All the unresolved feelings that had been festering for years, rose to the surface. Jason sat up. “Listen, I want to apologize-”

“Jason, it was ages ago. You have nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head. “But I do. I just disappeared, without any explanation. I’m sorry.”

In truth it broke my heart. My best friend was gone. I didn’t know if he was okay, or even where he was. But he didn’t know any better. He had the chance to live a better life, and he took that opportunity. It would be selfish to expect him not to. “I understand, really I do.”

He was the reason why I did so much outreach work. I saw firsthand how much he struggled after loosing his parents. “Actually, would you want to help me with this project?” He knitted his eyebrows together. “Tell me about it.”

I explained my ideas to him, and he was in.

We spent the next few months trying to get through all the red tape. With Bruce’s influence, it went a lot faster. As expected, we spent a lot of time together. I thought I was being careful. Until I woke up to frantic calls from my manager.

"Jason. I am so sorry.” The voice cried out, he immediately sat up recognizing this wasn’t Bruce. He leaned his back against his bed frame and rubbed his face. “Woah, what are you talking about?” He asked, completely in the dark about whatever was going on. He heard a sigh on the other end of the line. His heart rate sped up as he waited for the news in anticipation. “The papers, they took photos of us and they’re spinning some kind of narrative.”

The blood in his face drained. His eyes opened wide and he held the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was quiet as he tried to think. He got up from his bed and took his computer. He opened up his browser and started typing.

Y/N spotted with unidentified man, sources suggest they may be together

He clicked on the article. He could see the pictures of them. One from the night they met. He held onto Y/N as they walked up inside together. He continued to scroll down. A source had claimed they were “all over each other” since the benefit. He scowled, did they have nothing better to do then micromanage every aspect of someones life?

“I can arrange an interview and clear it up-”

“You don’t have to do that, it’s not your fault.” He sighed and slammed the computer shut. “We can talk about it later.” He briefly said goodbye and then hung up.

He tried to calm the unease he felt deep down. His worst fears beginning to come true. He was always cautious. He never took photographs like the rest of the family. He tried his best not to give his name out. But he threw every bit of common sense out of the way the moment he met Y/N. He used his real name. He had gotten his picture taken. All of his own rules he had adhered to for 2 years were broken in one night. He never looked back.

He was thirteen when he died. He spent 5 years training and operating in Gotham before Bruce found him. He had changed a lot since then. His adoption wasn’t as publicized as Dick’s was. Jason’s name had hardly even been mentioned in the papers. It was going to take a lot of detective work to try and piece everything together.

Who was going to believe that he came back from the dead?

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

As soon as I opened my door I was met by Jason. I planned on sneaking away and meeting him. It would be easier to get away then to hide in my own home. The press frequented the streets, everyone hoping to make the next headline. “Please, come in. I’m so sorry-”

“Do you want this?” He asked quickly. I blinked in shock as I tried to get an answer out. I knew exactly what he was asking. He wanted to know if I had feelings for him.

Growing up I always thought we were going to be inseparable. I took it hard after he left. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. People will come and go, that’s just the way it is. I just never expected him to go because I loved him. And I thought he loved me too.

I tried hard to push away my feelings until they finally went away. But some nights, I laid awake thinking about what could’ve been. What if I told him how I felt, would he have stayed? My biggest regret was never telling him how I felt. Now he was standing in front of me asking if I had feelings for him.

But now, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He hated being in the spotlight. but that was my entire life. Every move I made was put on public display. I traveled a lot, and my schedule was spastic. I would be in different times zones for months at a time.

Jason looked at me pleading. His blue eyes never broke contact with mine. “You don’t want to come in?” I offered, as I looked past him to assure there were no reporters. He stayed in place. I realized he wanted to answer here and now. I sighed, and closed my eyes.

“Of course I do, Jason.” I whispered. My eyes were still closed. I was too afraid to open them. What if I had just ruined everything? Jason placed his hands on either side of my face. I slowly opened my eyes.

“I do too.” He continued, “And I’m going to stop letting other people dictate how I live my life.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

“We’re going to figure this out. I promise.” He whispered against my lips.

“Come on, we’re giving the neighbors a show.” I said, making Jason chuckle. I took his hand and we walked inside, ready to handle whatever came next.

[tedturneriscrazy]

And here we are with Yesterday's Lie, the season 2A finale!

Wow, this came up quick, huh?

Anyways...

What are you doing with all that, not-Luz?

(Also, cute photo of younger Luz. She had hair!)

That musical cue when not-Luz adjusted her hair was rather unnerving

Judging by Camila's reaction to that box being set out, she wasn't lying when she said she loved Luz's creativity

Freeing the rabbit from the trap did a lot to establish more of Camila's character. I'm glad we're finally getting more of her.

OH SHIT REAL LUZ IN THE MIRROR

"Are you sure this isn't gonna blow our faces off?" "Nope!"

That's a rather eclectic collection of ingredients for the door

I wonder if Amity also provided the abomination head

Group hug❤

There's the trailer shot

You only appear in reflections, huh? Interesting...

Jeez, Luz, priorities!

(Oh who am I kidding, the fact she's still thinking about her girlfriend is adorable)

I do love it when her accent comes through

Whoops, looks like wherever this is the magic of the Isles doesn't reach

Previously unmentioned dad whose face is obscured in the photo

GASP

Spider-Man moment

Oh, voice change in not-Luz!

Classic "I ain't goin' back, man!" moment

Also, it's beta Luz's bat!

"Monster Slayer Academia" I'm not entirely sure that doesn't actually exist...

"I will never understand anime..."😂😂😂

Oh, true form time!

Vee's gonna be a fan favorite, isn't she? (I ask, full well knowing the answer)

I mean, I've already seen plenty of Luca x Owl House fan art, so I imagine that may intensify

Luz seems to be quite understanding all things considered. I suppose all the people in the "Doppelganger isn't evil, actually" camp have been vindicated.

Oh, Eda

I don't think I like that camera...

So Gravesfield, Connecticut, huh?

Welp, there's a statue of a man that's probably Philip Wittebane

Oh, partially transformed Vee is gonna be irresistible to fanartists

Witch obsessed guy? Pamphlets? Hmm...

Wait, MARILYN?! As in Stan's ex?!

(I know she wasn't actually since the two shows don't take place in the same universe, but no way that nod wasn't deliberate)

"She tried to pay for a latte with a live raccoon" Eda I'm saying this in the nicest way possible: What the fuck

Those rats...buh

"BREAD OF WISDOM GRANTS US SPEECH! WE DESIRE MORE!"

Can't say I don't relate to Vee wrt confrontation

Luz has definitely had some...previous experiences with other kids. Creepy talking rats? Yes. Human high schoolers? No thank you.

Oh, fellow campers! Luz isn't the only one who had off-screen experiences.

That reading seemed...ominous

Right...contacts...

Side note: seems like that camp doesn't stomp out weirdness as thoroughly as previously speculated

Oh shit it's Sonic the Hedgehog! I mean Warden Wrath! I mean Roger Craig Smith!

I saw someone take issue with how Vee reacted to Luz running away to the Demon Realm, but considering her past experience and trauma, her reaction is understandable

Belos I don't care how much of a foxy grandpa you are, you fucking suck

"Skin's sure weird!"

She took the day off work to drive "Luz" to camp I just😭

Whether you think camp was a bad idea or not, Camila's a good mom

Oh dear, Sonic is a conspiracy bro

I guess we know who set up that camera. And the traps.

Oh, seems Eda didn't have elixir with her on one of her trips to the human realm...

"After watching a few Mew-tube videos I learned the truth!" Yup he's a conspiracy bro. Goddamnit, Sonic!

(I can rag on Sonic the Hedgehog all I want, I've been into the games since the Genesis days, well before most of y'all were even born)

Luz having a "BOI" moment

This guy definitely watches Alex Jones. Props to the TOH crew for teaching a new generation about these conspiracy creeps.

Vee is accustomed to a life on the run, but apparently not with Luz's determination and quick thinking.

Also, all this talk about being "outed?" Yeah I'm definitely seeing the trans allegory everyone's talking about.

Now Luz turns to the one person who can help

That "boop"❤ (Now we know where Luz gets it from)

Camila not believing all the Demon Realm stuff. Shocked. SHOCKED, I say.

Well shit, Camila's been a veterinarian all this time! Don't we all have egg on our faces!

It would explain how Luz is so good with animals

Sonic the Curator sure is something, huh

The scary thing is that there are people like him in real life. Worse, even.

Okay, I know this is a dire situation, but I am enamored with Camila's mom energy here. She's adorable.

Dude with a ponytail and cardinal on his shoulder to send the theorists in a tizzy. It'll be interesting to see how this all eventually comes together.

I just realized that that's a training wand on the table

And now Camila realizes this is no game

Further props to the TOH crew for making the antagonist of the episode a crackpot white dude. This is correct.

Yup, further trans allegory. Plus a nice example of a supportive-if-not-quite-understanding-everything parent.

And there's Camila going ham on a motherfucker. Turns out there was no lie in the "Two Truths and a Lie!" Rather, the lie was that there was a lie in the first place...My brain hurts.

Oh, she can appear in the rain. That's cool!

Now is time for Real Sad Hours

The way Camila is reacting...god...it hurts...

"Is this the only way I can touch you?" STOP😢

"Staying here was the best decision I ever made!" Uh oh...

That promise is totally not gonna come back up later in the most tragic, gutwrenching way possible. Nope. Nuh uh. No way that'll happen.

Dammit, Luz, not more lies! Oh, right. The episode title.

Her face really says it all.

Well, it wasn't quite the continuous pain train we convinced ourselves it was gonna be, but that ending? Ow. I'm glad Vee has the support she needs, but my heart hurts for the Nocedas. I really hope they can resolve the issues they clearly still have, because damn.

And now we get to chew on all that for the next however many months! Hooray! I knew I said I was ready for a hiatus, but it turns out I'm a big fat liar, because I'm not! Augh!

Well, I'll try to look on the bright side: At least my sleep schedule can normalize again? Also I can cancel my Sling subscription once 6-10 drop on D+. Neither DisneyNow nor Sling are optimal VOD experiences.

[ascarimo]

fighting with mick? Xx

“Hey, darling,” Mick pressed a quick kiss to your cheek while you were cleaning up the kitchen. He just came back from his second gym session with his PT from Haas. “Hi,” you replied, looking over your shoulder to see him throwing his bag on the table, still dressed in the clothes he wore to the gym. “I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll be in at the desk to read over some things, alright?” Mick called, already on his way to the bathroom. You sighed softly. It had been going like this for over a month already. Ever since he was assigned for Haas and they arranged everything for him, his contract, management, his suits, seat fitting, training schedule, diet schedule, it was all that he seemed to be focussed on. And you supported his career 100%, being with him for over three years already, you learned that his career was his priority, which you accepted.

However since he was training for his first season in Formula 1, he was focussed on it as if it was literally the only purpose in life. Gina, his sister, had asked why he didn’t text or call her back. His mother was concerned about his extreme focus so before the start of the season and meanwhile you, being his girlfriend and sharing an apartment with him, you got confronted with it everyday. You thought it would just be a week, that he had to get into his new rhythm and it would be fine, but he didn’t seem to see that he was neglecting his normal life around it. You couldn’t recall the last time you had a movie night together, or the last time you ordered some take out and had a lazy Sunday. “Mick...” you said, walking after him. He was just stripping from his shirt, rumbling in the closet for some clean clothes. “What are you doing?” you asked.

“I’m just taking some clothes?” Mick said, his eyebrows raising. “I mean you, your behaviour,” you continued. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You’re... obsessed with training, your eating schedule, your sleeping pattern, do you even notice?” you asked. “I’m dedicated to my career, love, is that so bad?” Mick answered, having a sweater in his hands and some joggers ready on the bed. “It’s just that you’re neglecting us, our relationship, your family, your friends...” you summed up. “I’m with you every day, what are you on about?” Mick was starting to get annoyed. “You’re with me every day, but you’re not at the same time! When was the last time we had quality time together? When have you told me properly about your day or asked about mine? Did you text your sister back? Hell, it’s not even that important, but when’s the last time we had sex?” you said, annoyed now too.

“Formula 2 is nothing like F1, Y/N, and you know that. You know it costs me more time to prepare for this. And I don’t want to disappoint my team and Ferrari. If you can’t accept that, then maybe we should-...” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you hissed. “I’m going for a walk and you can let me know if you had a moment to think about what I said, if you can push your career aside for five minutes,” you said, reaching for your coat and walking out of the door. Mick sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t want to admit it at first, but he realized you were right, especially when he took his phone and realized he had all kinds of messages from his friends, family left on read. He realized you were right about that you hadn’t been investing in each other for a long time already and he regretted it. Because he wanted nobody else but you on his side during this exciting, upcoming experience with his new team.

You returned from your walk, glad you took some air and Mick was already waiting for you when you came in. He didn’t say anything, but his arms wrapped around you straight away. You let your head rest on his chest and your fingers curled into the material of his sweater. “I’m sorry,” Mick started. “You were right, I don’t know what got into me, I must’ve been awful to live with the last couple weeks,” he complained, pulling back lightly to look down at you. “You kind of were,” you replied, making him chuckle. “I’m sorry, I really am. Please, let me make it right, we can have tonight together and I’ll make sure to plan my things better next week,” Mick suggested and you nodded, smiling at him. Mick was relieved you accepted his apology and he nuzzled his nose against yours before pecking your lips. You were cuddled up on the couch not much later and he had missed this, so he was glad you spoke about it in the end.

[wh6res]

Delusional, 1, 21, Chenle please. I’m not sure if I have to specify the reader’s gender but it’d be great if it was male or gender neutral, thanks! Also, if there was another delusional, 1, 21, Chenle that was me, I forgot to add in the details, sorry.

what friends are for | chenle

synopsis. chenle is done playing nice.

warning. yandere themes, swearing, character death, rip chensung

your family may not be in the same level of wealth from his—the zhongs are damn near considered royalty!—but money never hindered your friendship with the heir. never once paying heed to the nasty side glances thrown your way whenever you're invited to sit at their table during soireés or charity events.

“thank you, really, mr. zhong, but my family—”

“well, bring them over here too! the more the merrier!”

and if there was one thing chenle’s parents liked about you, it was how family-oriented you seem to be. wanting to stick by your older brothers and sisters side. it just so happens that the zhongs treasure that principle the most.

blood is thicker than water.

so it was within these reasons why chenle, for the fucking life of him, doesn’t understand why you let that other brat into your little duo—park jisung wasn’t even in the same social class as the two of you!

you met him during this dance class you attended in downtown seoul. you had begged your mother to attend, and after she obliged, begged chenle to come with you. but no, while you may possess a compassionate nature, not at all minding the status quo, your childhood best friend, however, does not.

“oh, come on, lele. it’ll be fun!”

“i mean—i just don’t see the point of having to drive downtown for dance classes when we can just attend here! the choreographers are more world-renowned than those no-names you’ll meet in downtown.”

oh, how badly he wished he had agreed to come instead. or else you wouldn’t’ve met that middle-class peasant, wouldn’t’ve forced chenle to play nice, to smile through his annoyance as he nodded and waved at the boy you introduced to him.

“hey, i’m park jisung! i’ve heard all about you and your family here in the upper east, by the way. never thought i’d be meeting you, but here we are! let’s be good friends!”

if it weren’t for your sparkling eyes, chenle would’ve spat at the hand the other kid was offering. but instead��

“thanks, i guess? i’m chenle! and sure, i’d love to be friends.”

the agreement was movies after class at chenle’s place—it was what you texted in your little group chat with him and jisung. but when you arrived at the zhong’s estate after finishing up your extracurriculars, their helpers had quickly stated that the young master has yet to come home.

you had turned around to observe the row of cars in the zhong’s front yard, quickly noticing his red tesla is nowhere to be seen.

after bidding a quick goodbye to the butler who had answered the door, you quickly spun in your heels. trekking your way back to your chauffeur pulled up on the circular driveway, annoyance radiating off you.

jisung isn’t even here yet! and it was already fifteen minutes past the scheduled time. he’s hardly ever late.

just as your driver opens his mouth to ask what happened, the obvious frown and distress on your features is enough explanation for him, so he remains quiet as he waits for your instructions.

you pull out your phone to check if you accidentally missed any messages from either of the two boys, quickly finding that no, there wasn’t. no text or calls about sudden changes of plans from either of them.

until your phone chimes. a new message.

jwi-sUng, 6:29PM — yo chenle said lets watch at my dorm instead — see yuh

stupid. it was so stupid of you not to realize the signs. jisung is never late in his entire life, that boy is as punctual as he can get. and he’ll never use words like “yo” or “yuh” because… because, those were chenle’s texting style. and when you came inside jisung’s house, it should’ve struck you why the house is so quiet, why the house didn’t smell like ms. park’s cooking, why it was chenle himself that answered the door.

“ji and i have been waiting for you!” he cheers, slinging an arm over your shoulder before practically dragging you into the house.

“i came to your place and you weren’t there! either of you could’ve sent me a text or some—”

you stop rambling when you see the state of their living room. the couch is torn, the tv’s screen is cracked, porcelain vases smashed into a million pieces, tables overturned. it looks like a storm surged through the whole place and you’re now witnessing the aftermath.

but a storm didn’t do this. not when your eyes have zeroed in on jisung and his mom tied up in the middle of the room, men in suits guarding every window and exit of the house. some of them you’ve seen trailing behind chenle and his parents. the zhong’s bodyguards. brutes with no heart whatsoever, doing whatever the powerful family asks them to do.

“chenle. what… what’s the meaning—”

“i’m done playing nice. all i want is you. all i’ve ever wanted was you.”

he spat like poison as you stand immobile before the scene in front of you. the heir never thought he’d get a kick from seeing your face contorted with fear and confusion. but it did. and he basked in it.

you waited patiently for the punchline. for one of them to say ‘gotcha!’ but when your eyes met jisung’s fearful ones, you knew this wasn’t any sick joke they came up with to prank you. nope. this is as real as the hand chenle uses to push your hair away from your face as he stands before you, breaking the eye contact you have with the dancer.

“oh, come on…” he pouts cutely, looking out of place in a trashed up apartment. “i’m the one that isn’t tied up and you still don’t pay attention to me?”

“chenle, what’s going on?”

he laughs boisterously and you can’t help but wonder how more witch-like it sounded rather than the usual, innocent dolphin’s.

“i have everything i want,” he boldly claims, pacing before you, the cheap fluorescent lights of jisung’s home accentuates the harsh angles of his face. “money’s a given. power, too. with just those two, i can have the whole world at the palm of my hand—”

“let them go.”

you flinch when two burly men in suits start closing in on you from both sides. hands darting forward to grab both of your arms, until chenle gave them a hard stare, to which both retreated immediately. you understood what that look meant. no, not yet.

“geez… at least humor me, why don’t you?”

you don’t answer him.

“right,” he starts again, freezing you in place when he makes a beeline towards the dancer. “i have everything i want. well, used to. until this peasant came and ruined what we already have.”

jisung squirms and when he feels a cold circular barrel nudging the top of his head and his mom looks like she is ready to pass out. cold sweat starts building up in your forehead. you don’t know how you can get the three of you out of the house alive but if playing dumb can prolong your thinking time, then so be it.

“i don’t get it—”

“of course, you don’t!” you flinch, eyes trained on your ex-best friend and the gun he’s holding. “you’ve always been so sheltered, so naive, always hiding behind your older brothers and sisters to even realize what’s happening.”

“lele, please. just drop the gun first, we can all just talk this out—”

“see what i mean? naive!”

your heart shatters at the tiny whimper jisung lets out when the gun digs a little too much against his head.

“ever since you met this brat, you keep dragging him to our hangouts, trying to make him a part of our little party,” the heir explains through gritted teeth as he glares at you. “and you know what makes it worse? park jisung can’t fucking offer you anything other than a mediocre life. is that what you want?”

“jisung’s my friend. he doesn’t have to fucking offer me anything.”

he giggles like a madman. “oh, baby, i don’t think jisung feels the same way you do, though. have you ever seen the way he looks at you?”

and when your eyes flicker down to meet the dancer’s, the truth has never been more obvious when he fails to meet your eyes.

chenle clicks his tongue patronizingly as he pats jisung’s shoulder to feign comfort, before tossing the gun to one of his bodyguards standing behind him. “well, getting friendzoned sucks.”

“this isn’t a fucking joke—”

you yelp in surprise when the heir delivers a swift punch to jisung’s stomach. the boy bending in pain through the makeshift gag tied over his mouth.

“you’re right. it isn’t.”

you force yourself not to cower as chenle menacingly starts to approach you. a stoic expression on his face and you wonder for a moment, when did all of this even started?

“it is no joke that i love you—the one thing that i can’t have, the one thing so close, just an arm’s length away but still feels so far. but not anymore.”

you don’t where you manage to get the confidence nor the courage to blurt out what you were about to say next, but you regretted it all the same.

“this isn’t love. obsession, possessiveness, or infatuation is fucking far from love.”

the two consecutive sounds of a gunshot was deafening to the ears, but the heir supposes nothing can beat your screams as you fought against the arms of his guards, trying to get to the two people lying immobile in their own home.

“doing everything for this one person, is that not one of the criteria to say you love someone?”

chenle ignores the nasty spit you threw that’s dribbling down his expensive shoes. you’ll pay for that, one way or another. but that day is not today.

“jisung was our friend, you psychopath! this is insanity! you’re fucking crazy!”

when you try biting the hand that comes up to caress your face, one of his guards knees you in the gut. chenle wishes you didn’t have to force his hand, didn’t have to do this the hard way, but you leave him with no choice.

“you’re wrong. i’m not crazy—i’m just… in love. i did this out of love, i’m doing this out of love.”

[kyotarou]

what we had

gn reader

characters: miya osamu

plot: after years of being together, you and osamu fell out of love. now, osamu feels there’s something missing in his life. he agrees to let atsumu set him up on a blind date, and to his shock, it’s you. as the date progresses, you both reminisce about the past and the unspoken regrets you hold.

word count: 2.7k+

warnings: TIMESKIP SPOILERS, angst with a happy ending, somewhat unrequited love, swearing, osamu being a bad boyfriend

(artwork does not belong to me, i only added the text)

You no longer slept in each other’s arms. You and Osamu gradually drifted apart on the mattress to the point where you now slept with your backs facing each other with a significant gap in between. Things were quiet. It wasn’t the peacefulness you thought you’d reach. It wasn’t that you despised him, or you felt uncomfortable. Simply put, you fell out of love, and so had he. Neither of you were brave enough to bring it up, so you held onto the hope that something would reignite the spark you had for years. But two painfully long months passed, and it was the same feeling, or lack thereof. It felt more like living with a roommate than your boyfriend.

One morning, after you had breakfast filled with the same, monotonous small-talk, Osamu set down his utensils and looked you straight in the eyes, the first time he’d done so in months.

“I think we should break up.”

You thought it’d be painful, that the realization your love had fizzled out would finally hit and you’d be flooded with regret. Instead, you felt relieved, and you nodded, knowing it was time to go.

Fast forward two years. With the help of his friends and family, Osamu built Onigiri Miya from the ground up. Business was booming and he had a wonderful team of employees to back him up. He was content with life, but it was still missing something. Osamu hadn’t been in a stable relationship since your break up. Dates after dates, no one stuck. When he thought he finally found a suitable partner, he found out they had an obsession over his twin, Atsumu, and Osamu was merely a gateway to get closer to him.

It was in times like this he thought about you the most, the stability and love you once had since high school up until your twenties. Although you ended on good terms and promised to stay friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in person since the day you moved out and bid him goodbye. He assumed he’d at least run into you on the street or at the store, but nothing. It was as if you disappeared. The first time he heard from you since the break up was when you sent him a text after the grand opening of Onigiri Miya.

[Congrats, Osamu. I knew you could do it :)]

[Thank you (Y/N). It means a lot.]

He wondered if he should’ve messaged you more, maybe ask how you’ve been or if you wanted to catch up. But he pondered for too long, and he realized it would be weird to text you so late at night. He turned off his phone, but the thought of how you were doing still lingered.

Osamu never would have agreed to go on a blind date if he weren’t this desperate. It was Atsumu’s idea, of course. Atsumu saw an ad for a new dating app on a billboard while on the way to one of his matches. The app was catered specifically for blind dates. When his twin offered to help set up a date, every fiber in Osamu’s body begged for him to say no, but he’d been single for too long, and Atsumu’s jabs at his poor love life weren’t helping. He agreed, on the condition that he could beat Atsumu if he purposefully set him up with a bad partner.

Osamu entered the cafe in a hurry, phone in hand. Atsumu scheduled the date for 4:00 PM, and it was now 4:30. Osamu had forgotten all about it, and on top of that, he had to cover the shift of one of his employees who was out sick. He rushed home, threw on his nicest shirt and pants, hoping his date hadn’t left.

His eyes darted around the crowded cafe for a person in a grey jacket, as stated in their text to his brother. He looked, but the hustle and bustle made it harder to focus. There were blue coats, red sweaters, black suits, but nothing grey. His gaze fell to the corner of the room, and his heart stopped.

No, it can’t be…

You sat at the very back of the cafe, away from the other patrons. You sipped on your vanilla latte, which was cold by now, and waited patiently for your date. His brother, who set it up, texted you that he’d be late because of work. Thirty minutes wasn’t too bad, but you hoped whoever showed up made it worth it. You only got the general details of your blind date; he worked in the food industry, had a twin brother, and he used to play volleyball. Reading those notes made you think of a certain set of twins, and you wondered how you would react if it was indeed Osamu. But the facts were so basic, it could’ve applied to anyone.

Maybe you shouldn’t have thought about it so much. None other than Osamu Miya slid into the seat in front of you, trying his best not to make it awkward. You choked on your coffee and quickly dabbed it away with a napkin.

“Hi. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” You glanced at his phone, which was on the table, and saw the app open to details of your date. Below that were the three facts you gave to who you now knew was Atsumu.

Over the past two years, Osamu compiled so many questions for you. Now that you were here, face to face, they all disappeared from his mind. He had no clue what to say, and judging from how you were avoiding eye contact, you didn’t, either. He didn’t think it would be that awkward—you did end on good terms, after all. But the tension between you two felt as if the cause of your break up was endless shouting when it was very much the opposite. 

Sometimes, Osamu wished it’d been like that so he’d have an excuse as to why he let go of the one person he valued most. When he told his family about it, they were more heartbroken than he was. His mother cried for days, and Atsumu was angry that Osamu didn’t work hard enough to reignite your love. 

“Couples’ counseling exists for a reason!” he screamed.

Osamu shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant, but in his heart, he knew Atsumu was right. You never brought it up, never tried to talk it out. He waited for a sign, for some outside force to magically tie you back together. He let it play out without putting in an ounce of effort. In the end, he took the path he convinced himself was best. When you agreed without a hint of sadness on your face, and he noticed how relaxed you seemed, all the guilt came crashing down at once. He told himself he didn’t love you anymore. He told himself it was for the better, that good things would come his way. So, why is it that when you were in front of him, he wanted to say, I love you?

You had no clue why you brought up the idea of visiting the places you used to go as a couple. And it shocked you, even more, when Osamu said yes. Now, you were at the train station, eating the custard buns you used to buy after school. The inside was just as sweet and gooey as you remembered. For a moment, you felt like high schoolers again. Osamu had a bottle of green tea, the same brand you bought for him years ago. Though you smiled at your youthful past, you couldn’t shake the memory of the day you last saw Osamu.

It was at this station where you said your final goodbyes. The sky was a mix of pink and orange, casting an ethereal light over you as you waited for the train. Osamu remembered wanting to ask you for a goodbye kiss as closure, to end your relationship on a good note. But what more did he need? He didn’t love you anymore. Kissing you would be like kissing a stranger, and the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable. And yet, he couldn’t stop admiring your lips, imagining the plushness of it against his, the feeling that had made his heart race for years.

The train came to a stop, and its doors hissed open. You grabbed your bags, bid Osamu goodbye, and boarded. Through the window, he watched you settle in your seat. He thought you’d turn around and watch until he faded into the distance like everyone did in the movies. It was he who watched until the train disappeared into the tunnel. The entire time, you were on your phone, and he knew he was already a distant memory.

The train took you to the neighborhood where your old high school stood strong. Even in the dark, Inarizaki looked no different than it did when you and Osamu attended. You passed by the boys’ gym, and your mind began to play the familiar sound of squeaky shoes and the excited cries of the team. While Osamu idled around campus, he realized you stopped near the club room building. He couldn’t tell if you were sad or pleased as you stared at the water fountains, wrapped in nostalgia.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue. “This is where-”

“-I confessed to you,” you finished. 

It was clear as day. You and Osamu were second-years in the same class. You harbored feelings for him since junior high but never dared to confess. But you only had a year left until you graduated, and your friends convinced you it was now or never. So, you asked Osamu to meet you before afternoon practice by the club room building. You shoved the love letter in his hands before running off, shouting, “Do your best!” over your shoulder.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Your heart couldn’t stop pounding at the thought of facing him the next day. You nearly screamed when your phone rang. It was Osamu. You didn’t want to pick up in fear of rejection, but the thought of what if? inspired you to answer.

“Hey,” he said. “I just read your letter. Is it true? Do you really feel that way about me?”

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see. “Yes, it’s true. I like you, Osamu. A lot.”

“I really like you, too, (Y/N). So, so much.”

Though the phone call was the start of your relationship, it wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t meet him by the club room. To be in that spot years later felt unreal, like you were confessing to him all over again. Together, you talked about college, marriage, children, and growing old. You planned your whole life with Osamu only for it to end the moment you found stability and peace. You wondered where you’d be now if the break up never happened, if you managed to reignite that spark. Would he be your husband? Would you have kids? 

Osamu wandered off to another part of the campus. Although the space felt empty without him, you were glad he couldn’t see the tears streaming down your face.

The bridge was filled with bittersweet memories. Before things became motionless, you and Osamu used to argue over the littlest things, from washing dishes to turning off the TV. Small sparks set off a bigger blast. A snide comment would turn into a fit of shouting until you were too exhausted to continue or one of you left. When Osamu stormed out of your shared apartment, you knew he’d be at the bridge. Something about the serenity of the water below made you forget all the anger, and you both apologized. 

“I’m sorry, Osamu,” you whispered after a particularly nasty fight. “Please, come home. I miss you.”

He’d give you a warm hug and kiss you on the lips, stroking your back and telling you he was sorry, too. 

Osamu never realized how you were always the first one to say sorry until now. Despite him being the one to start fights, he never once apologized until you did. He left you waiting, begging him to come home. How often did you fear he wouldn’t come back? How many times did he make you feel like you were in the wrong? The insecurities you told him about, the idea that you weren’t worthy of his love, did he make you feel like that?

Maybe you realized you were too good for him. Maybe that’s why you stopped snuggling him in your sleep. Maybe it was him all along, the one who set off the wrong sparks and snuffed the one that mattered most. Now, Osamu was looking for a sign once again. If you stayed silent, all that happened was water under the bridge, and there was no point in bringing it up. If you spoke, Osamu would hold onto the hope that the flame of your love would burn once more. He counted the seconds, growing antsy as the numbers increased. You could say anything, and it’d be enough for him to hope. Hell, you could comment on the weather, and he’d take it as his sign.

Please, please, he begged in his mind. Something, anything, just one word-

“It’s a lot more peaceful here than I remembered.”

Holy shit.

You stared into the starry sky. “Being here used to give me the worst anxiety. It’s almost like a tradition to apologize here. This place should’ve given me hope, but all those times when I’d find you here, I’d think to myself, ‘This is it, this is the end. It’s over.’”

You answered his unspoken questions. How could he have been so blind? He should’ve known that a simple 'sorry' wasn’t enough to lift the weight off your shoulders. What kind of boyfriend lets their partner bear all the burden? And to think your breakup was mutual—no, he convinced himself it was a relief when in reality, it only felt like that for you. He couldn’t blame anyone other than himself for the karma he rightfully deserved and received. The emptiness he felt, the hole in his heart-

“I still love you.” He looked you in the eyes for the second time that day. “I still love you, (Y/N). I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never realized how much I hurt you. I’m sorry that this is the only time I’ve apologized first on this damn bridge, and we’re not even together anymore. I am so, so fucking sorry.”

“Osamu…”

“God, I hate myself. I’m a piece of shit. I let you carry all that pain around and didn’t do anything to help. I didn’t even ask if you were okay. What was I thinking? But I still love you, (Y/N). I feel so fucking empty without you. All this time, I’ve been pretending I’m okay, but I’m a mess. I love you, I love you so much it hurts, and I know what you’re going to say, and it’s gonna be the worst pain I’ve ever felt, but I deserve it.”

Your bottom lip quivered. “Osamu, I’m sorry.”

Here it comes.

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way.”

Any time now… 

“But I can’t return your feelings.”

There it is.

Osamu nodded solemnly.

“However-” your voice trembled and your vision blurred. “I’ll admit, I miss what we had. It was the happiest I’d ever been in my life. I miss all the dumb shit we used to do in high school. I miss the stability after graduation, even if it was short. I miss everything, Osamu. Especially you.” You wiped your eyes. “It’s hard to forget someone you’ve loved since junior high. I don’t think I’m ready to let go, not yet.”

Osamu stood in stunned silence as you let out a weary laugh through your tears. You took his hands in yours. His fingers fit perfectly in your palm, and your thumbs rested in the familiar dents between his knuckles, like you were molded for each other.

“Osamu,” you whispered. “I can’t say ‘I love you’ right now, but I think I can soon.”

It took a moment for him to process your words. When he did, his eyes gleamed with excitement. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

You nodded. “Let’s give it another shot. Let’s fix what we had.”

Osamu smiled and nodded back. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 2

In which: Danny thinks, Talia is concerned, and we finally see Ra's al Ghul's pride an joy: the Lazarus pit

AO3 | Prologue | 1 | [ 2 ] | 3 |

---

DANNY COUNTS THE DAYS by the hours he is in the monitor room. One hour is all that he is allowed. One hour after a day of learning and fighting, of ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no sir’ and ‘stand up straighter, boy’ and ‘remember that you have feet.’ Of being handed a sword only to have it knocked out of his hand (pickitup-pickitup-pick-it-up). Of ‘here’s eight plants, only one of them is the antidote to the poison you just ingested, and you better hope you remember the difference because this is the life you live now, Danny.’ This is what you agreed to for some time in front of a few television screen.

One hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred measly fucking seconds was all he got to see his family before he’s ushered back to his room. Dark. Barren. Windowless.

God, when was the last time he saw the stars?

He spent his multitude of ‘one hours’ simply watching. That was all he could do, really. Watch and collect snatches of Amity—of Before. Like torn pieces of an antique photograph, unable to be restored but too precious to throw away.

Talia would call him too sentimental. Danny would love to remind Talia that if it wasn’t for her and her freaky older-than-dirt dad, Danny wouldn’t even need to be fucking sentimental.

Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Repeat.

Repeat again.

One more time.

There’s a voice in Danny’s head that sounded too much like Jazz telling him that this kind of behavior was unhealthy. The Jazz in Danny’s head didn’t exactly know why, though they’re both pretty sure that constantly watching your family and friends move on after your death probably isn’t good for one’s sanity. Especially since Danny isn’t really dead.

Well.

Dead-er.

He isn’t—

(family-love-mememe-why aren’t they looking harder-don’t they care-they care-for their own good-what about-happy-no-me-them-me-them).

Truth be told, Danny isn’t angry that everyone in Amity seemed to be getting on with their lives. God, he’s seen how his suppsed-death affected them. He can’t—he won’t be responsible for holding them back from living when he can’t even be sure if he’ll ever be able to return to Amity again.

(He’s seen what happens when someone refuses to move on. Hell, the Zone is full of it. It’s either you obsess with grief…or you try to rip it out of yourself entirely.)

Danny wanted them to live on. Be happy. (With him.)The FentonWorks portal remained under constant vigilance, and since Pariah Dark, most ghosts recognized Amity as his haunt and tended to stay away. With any major threats he could only hope that Clockwork would step in somehow and at least keep it contained. Tucker and Sam were more than capable enough to handle most of his regular rogues gallery, especially if Red Huntress was backing them up too.

Amity…didn’t really need Danny anymore to protect it.

(Family-happy-protectprotectprotect-what?-safe-not safe-not needed).

For all that they tried to find out, Danny, Sam, and Tucker never did manage to figure out what his ghostly obsession was. Sam went out on a limb and said Heroism which…wasn’t quite right but fit the bill well enough.

And what was the point of heroes?

To build a world where they aren’t needed.

------

There was a noticeable shift in her son’s demeanor after he learned of the true nature of his parentage. Though it should be noted that while Talia showed a photograph of her beloved to Daniel, she did not disclose his true identity as to Ra’s al Ghul’s orders. Her father reasoned that it was more advantageous for Daniel to develop a closer connection with the maternal side of his family as opposed to the Waynes—a name that would be more familiar and thus better viewed than the strange people who kidnapped him.

No; ‘Recovered’ would be the most appropriate term. Daniel was her child. Would always be her child, no matter who raised him.

Daniel was…quieter. Somber. His eyes glazed yet sharp—blue eyes bloodshot despite maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Like pit madness with neither the madness nor the pit; simply the look of rage that bubbles beneath the skin, close to boiling over yet never there.

He continued to watch his false family obsessively. Yet…he had taken to watching Talia as well. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Small glances at the corner of his eye. Contemplative looks with furrowed brows whenever he presumed she did not notice. He had even taken to meticulously check his reflection in the mirror; pinching cheeks and turning his face this way and that, cataloguing his features as if to find what parts of him was from her—or perhaps if there was any part of him that ever resembled the paranormal scientists he once called parents.

Even if the physical similarities were not there, the DNA testing—regardless of the anomalies found in Daniel’s genes—was proof enough that he was her son.

“You have been keeping with your diet regimen, yes?” Asked one of the League’s physicians. He pressed his gloved fingers against Daniel’s skin, brushing the ridges of his ribcage. Marring her son’s skin was a large, faint scars. Fractals branching across his torso like the branches of a gruesome tree. “You are still too thin.”

“Fast metabolism,” Daniel mumbled. He is sat on an examination table in their medical wing, black shirt neatly folded beside him. His figure, though not skeletal, per se, was gaunt. His ribs poking from his pallor skin, stomach still concave for a boy who ate double the portions than any other member of the League of Assassins. “I’ve had it since the accident, but it’s never gotten this bad.”

The physician hummed, jotting his notes down along side the results of Danny’s vitals. The exact numbers were unknown to Talia, standing as she was by the door, though she could infer the results from previous physical examinations. (Low blood pressure and core body temperature. Faint pulse, slight tachycardia,) “Do you have any ideas why?”

Daniel’s lips thinned, eyes darting to the side as he always did whenever Phantom was related in anyway. His face was too open; Talia needed to train him out of that. “My…” He took a deep breath. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to stay very long in the Material world. It lacks the ectoplasmic energies that helps them ‘stay alive,’ so to speak. Usually they can supplement some of this by filtering some of the ambient energy in the atmosphere to strengthen themselves—it’s why Amity was such a hotspot for ghosts because of the large concentration of ectoplasm in the atmosphere—but it still isn’t a good long term solution.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Since I’m still somewhat human, I’m able to spend way more time in the Material world and can substitute spending days in the Zone by instead filtering ambient energy and eating.”

The physician made another noise, the tip of his pen tapping against the side of the clipboard. “So I take it then that, as your other half doesn’t have access to this ‘ambient energy’ as you call it, it is forced to take what energy it needs from the calories you’ve consumed, yes?”

“Basically.”

“What will happen if you do not have enough calories to supplement this energy?”

Danny shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. “Dunno. Maybe this time, death will stick.”

Talia narrowed her eyes.

Such a thing will not happen. She had been forced to give up on Daniel once, and then later on she lost her youngest to her beloved. Never again.

This child was hers.

------

“Father, did you not say that the anomalies found in Daniel’s DNA were similar in composition to the Lazarus pit?”

Ra’s al Ghul did not pause in pause in his reading to look up at Talia. The bird shaped magnifying glass held steady above the ancient manuscripts spread across his desk, eyes focused on the words and figures carefully inked onto the page. “Yes.” He set aside the magnifying glass and gently flipped the page. “It is what strengthened my belief of the connection between the Lazarus pit and these spirits.”

Talia straightened. “With your permission I would like to place Daniel into the pit.”

Her fathered looked up, curious. “You forget what the pit does to those who are in good health.”

She placed the results of Daniel’s most recent physical exam on to of his desk. Ra’s sat back in his chair and idly flipped through the folder, reading the contents as if no different to reading the newspaper instead of how his grandson is slowly being starved by his own biology. “Well, well. This would be a problem.”

He closed the folder, a wry grin curling at his lips. “Have him ready for tomorrow. I am curious as to how the pit would affect one already half-dead.”

------

Danny is awoken by Talia sometime the next day. “Come,” she said. “You do not need to change, so come quickly.”

He got off the bed with a silent groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Where are we going?”

“Not far. Somewhere that will help you.”

He snorted. “Letting me go home would help me.”

Talia doesn’t answer, simply waiting for him at the door. Danny groaned, combing away as much of his bedhead with his fingers as he followed her.

For the first time since being dragged to Nanda Parbat, Danny is allowed to venture beyond his small section of the compound.

He didn’t really know what to expect.

Still didn’t stop everything from being so…anticlimactic.

Beyond the steel door, normally kept locked and guarded by two of his shadow guards, was a hallway. Endlessly long with a wide pathway, lit enough by the fluorescent lights overhead but not enough to banish the shadows that clung to the stone walls. The hallway looked empty. ‘Looked’ being the key word, here. Even if he couldn’t see them, Danny would bet on his half-life that the shadows were teeming with life.

Talia led the way through the maze of twists and turns (were they underground?), a couple of shadow guards quietly following behind them.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Talia looked at him from over her shoulder for a moment, then turned away. “Have you heard of the Lazarus pits?”

“Lazarus? Like the guy who came back to life?” Neither of his parents were really religious. His dad only really Baptist in name because he was born into a Baptist family that, too, wasn’t overly strict in their religion. The only reason why Danny knew of this Lazarus guy was because of Mr. Lancer’s unit on Greco-Roman and Christian allusions.

Talia nodded, turning a corner. “The Lazarus pits are natural pools with restorative properties, capable of rejuvenating the body, healing grievous injuries, and even bringing the dead back to life.”

Danny nearly tripped over his own feet. “What? That’s—” Impossible. He ran up to Talia, wildly gesticulating with his hands. “What’s dead is dead. Resurrecting the dead goes against the natural law of the universe!”

“Well, you seem to be doing fine.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “That’s different. I’m still dead, even if my entire existence seems like the but end of a Schrodinger’s joke.”

“Be that as it may, what I speak is truth.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it. Then, stepping aside to usher Danny in first. “See of yourself.”

Danny stepped inside, Talia following behind him, and—

Oh.

Before he even saw the pit, he could feel it. A low and steady hum reminiscent of the ghost portal. But…different. Not necessarily fainter but garbled, like hearing someone speak underwater.

The room was a large, open space, with stone walls framed by red wooden pillars. It was dim, lit only by the green glow of the pit that consumed the majority of the space. A square pool of too-clear waters and toxic-looking steam rising from the surface.

The waters felt of the Zone but…not.

“Ah, Daniel.” He nearly jumped out of his own skin. Ra’s al Ghul stepped out of the shadows behind him, hands folded behind his back. The green glow highlighted the sharp contours of his face; the shadows that clung to him only making his visage harsher. “It is good to see you.”

Danny greeted the Demon’s Head with a League salute. “Grandfather.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue despite being in English. To formal for a boy who never really had the chance to interact with his own grandparents. But Danny was told to refer to Ra’s like this, and so he did. (He was only grateful Talia didn’t insist on calling her ‘mother.’)

Ra’s al Ghul was an enigma. Centuries old yet he looked only about a decade older than his mom and dad. (Jack and Maddie Fenton will always be his mom and dad. They raised him. Loved him, in their own eccentric, science-y way. No blood test or adoption or ninja-assassins could change that). Like Danny’s still-unnamed biological father, Ra’s carried himself with theatrical purpose. Comically villainous in his attire and grand gestures, though unlike Vlad, Ra’s had this overwhelmingly intimidating presence that engulfed whatever room he stepped in.

Ra’s was a man that commanded attention as opposed to demanding it. And now, at the focus of the man’s calculating gaze, Danny could not help but stand stiff at attention.

“You’re mother was right,” Ra’s said. Danny barely restrained himself from perking up at that word. “You are wasting away, Daniel.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“Well, at least you still have that fire in you.”

Danny startled, slapping his hand over his mouth. Shit, he didn’t know he said that out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Talia suppressed a small smile.

“You have that in common with the Detective,” Ra’s continue, circling Danny like a carrion that spotted its next meal. “That and the rather foolish notion on not properly reporting the extent of your injuries.”

“With all due respect, grandfather, I wasn’t expecting on staying here for this long.”

Ra’s gave him a knowing look. “But something is keeping you here, isn’t it?”

“Keeping my family and friends hostage is a pretty good motivator, apparently.” An insidious thought bubbled in Danny’s mind. But that isn’t all, is it?”

“I have consulted your mother and your physician as to the nature of your condition, and I have decided that the Lazarus pit would be a sufficient way to restore your health.” He gestured to the pool. “It appears that your DNA shares several similarities to the composition to the Lazarus pit.”

Danny crouched at the edge of the pit, hovering his hand above the water’s surface. “It’s because it contains ectoplasm. An impure kind, I think.”

“Will the impurities be harmful to you?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t think so? My body can filter out the impurities just fine, it’s just that I’ve never encountered thistype of ectoplasm before. It’s so clear and—aqueous, I think is the word.”

There’s a strange glint in Ra’s eyes. Dare Danny say it, it even looked mischievous. It made him uneasy, and just as Danny made a move to step back, Ra’s al Ghul picked him up by the collar of his night shirt—

And threw Danny into the Lazarus Pit.

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Seducing Suga - Part 1

⮱ Summary: You were happy to find out that Yoongi likes your rap skills, and your original plan involved him, but then the unexpected happened.

Read 🌼 PART 2 🌼 ⇗

⮱ Words: 3.2k

⮱ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⮱ Genre: Smut, Angst

⮱ Warnings: Sexual Themes, Takes place in a no-corona world, Reader is an interviewer, it goes downhill after the first half

Happy Belated Yoongi day!

                                  ________________________

“So can you rap something for us real quick?” With Namjoon’s question taking you by surprise, you look at your producer to make sure it is okay to proceed. You get a thumbs up, smiling at the boys as they watch with eager eyes. You kept your eyes trained on Namjoon, though, as you started the infamous Cypher 4 verse from Yoongi.

“Back back to the basic Microphone check Call me baepsae hogeun ssenkae geurae rap gamee nan daeinbae doege haeihaejyeotdeon Rap mandeureul gaengsaenghaneun ge nae cheot beonjjaeui gyehoek hashtag Sucka betta run geurigo inseuta sok gang gang geugeon gyae insaengigo nae insaengeun mwo maeilmaeil Payday, paycheck sonmok wien rolex,” You decide to stop right there, waiting for the boys to something as they stare at you slack-jawed with their eyes wide open.

“That was…” Namjoon starts clapping, spurring the boys around him.

“Amazing!” Jimin exclaims as you bow, licking your lips as Yoongi blushes and evades your gaze. You’ve never seen him so wound up live before, the only Yoongi you know of is the one that keeps his face expressionless and blank during English interviews.

“I’m glad, thanks.” Your makeup crew rushes towards you afterwards, making sure your face is powdered up before sending you off with the members for pictures. It makes the studio look good, so you were naturally sent to stand in with the living legends.

“Hey, I enjoyed what you did there with Cypher.” He wanted to politely ask you back to his hotel room, but he wanted to do so without being suspicious. You were more than ready to die for Min Yoongi if it meant you would be able to get your name on a billboard somewhere in the world. Sucking his dick would be nothing compared to what you could do once you got into a position of high power.

“Thanks. You know, there’s this really fancy restaurant down the street, how about after this we head there together?” He tucks his hands into his pockets, biting his teeth as he checks his phone that just went off with a text.

“I’d love to, but we’re on a really tight schedule today. How about tomorrow, or the day after? We have a free day so maybe we can plan something then?” You agree and exchange phone numbers before parting ways. You couldn’t believe you were going out on a date with Suga from BTS in exactly two days!

You went a little crazy during your shopping spree and bought a couple of items for your date. You were expecting it to end well so you also bought some lingerie. Yet, you also felt like you were rushing things. You weren’t a sleazy person so you wanted to make him feel comfortable. Thinking about things now, you’ve never actually hooked up with someone on the first date.

Yoongi is no exception, no matter how famous he might be. You made your way to your reserved table, smirking as you see him out of the corner of your eye. He greets you as you lean forward, sipping some water out of a straw in the glass.

“Remember, I’m buying.” You’re willing to invest in him, to see what it is that the world is so obsessed about when it comes to Suga.

“I’ll keep that in mind. How’s the steak here?” You blink quickly, noticing that Yoongi’s english has improved drastically.

“Um, great.” He puts down the menu and you do the same, confused as to why he’s suddenly fluent. He seems to notice your look of bewilderment before speaking again,

“I am fluent in English, you know? Lived in New York for a short time as a kid.” You didn’t know that about him.

“Wow, that’s interesting.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff I keep from ARMY. For example, I am a busy man, so I forget to eat and sleep often. I know it looks like I sleep a lot on bangtan bombs but it’s not true. I’ve gone days without sleeping properly before, you know?” That was another thing you didn’t know about Yoongi. Again, you’re not one of those sketchy reporters that would find whatever dirt they can on someone and reveal it. You know that the boys have their right to privacy, and you just want to do what you can to secure it. Especially if you’re gonna start this fling with Yoongi, or whatever.

“It’s insane that they expect you to even share that. I mean, it’s personal, right?” He chuckles at your enthusiasm about keeping his privacy in check and he appreciates it.

“It is personal. My job is supposed to be sharing my life, hobbies, side-hobbies, and friends with ARMY. My best friends are BTS, obviously, but otherwise if I bought anyone from outside I’d have to ask them to give permission to use their face on camera.”

“That is so interesting. Thanks for telling me about it, Yoongi.”

“I want us to trust each other. You’ve got this spark in your eye that’s different from anything I’ve seen. The rap game is about that passion.” You felt an unbelievable connection to him, not because he took the words out of your mouth, but just because he could relate to you.

“Yoongi, would you like to do this again sometime?” You ask at the end of your meal, dabbing a tissue over your mouth.

“I’d love to.” You were falling, despite having a goal in mind already. You didn’t want to exploit him anymore.

Your second date commenced the next day, while Yoongi was out with BTS you got permission from the manager and staff to be around the boys, and they were excited to meet you officially as the person Yoongi was “dating.” Even though it was only the second date, the boys treated you like family. They even made fun of Yoongi before shutting the whole thing down for a Bangtan bomb. You quietly stood beside Yoongi, as you made your way into the famous art museum.

You and Yoongi break off from the group, branching out in a way that makes things less suspicious. He pulls you close to him, as a camera clicks away at the boys and the last thing he wanted was to be discovered. You look up at him, with those twinkling eyes that he adores, and he’s lost in your lips. You shared your first kiss on the second date, going at your own pace.

When it was time for Yoongi to leave, you exchanged phone numbers and said goodbye. He never invited you to his room in the end because he saw more in you, than just a one night stand. The sudden connection, how you get along so well, it correlates with how much you mean to him. His life suddenly had a new meaning; he wanted to pursue you as well.

As if by magic, you get a job offer in Korea, a studio close to Bighit HQ. You were so excited that you video chatted with Yoongi. When he picked up, you could see that he was in the Rkive, and Namjoon was sitting next to him, staring at a computer screen.

“Hey guys! Guess what? I’m coming to Seoul! I got a job offer and I took it and now I’ll be moving there!” Yoongi springs up on his feet as soon as you tell him, excitedly knocking Namjoon out of his chair making you cover your eyes as the impact looks like it hurts.

“Really?! Wow that’s great!”

“I know, right? Let everyone know that I’m coming and I’m gonna be closer to you.”

“Yep. I’ll let them know. When are you coming here?” You fumble with the phone in your hand as you pull up the schedule on your tablet.

“Two weeks.” You and Yoongi hung up the call after chatting for a bit in private. You were quite happy with how your relationship was going, you haven’t even taken him to bed and you were the least bit bothered about that. Your emotional connection with Yoongi was more important than anything that comes after this point.

That’s why when he asked you if you wanted to go on a date on his company rooftop, you agreed. It was your third date with Yoongi, and you were more than excited to be in the same room as him. You were still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, happy to be around the man you adore the most. With his gummy smile and chocolate brown eyes, you fell in love with ease.

“It’s cold today.” He takes a swig from the bottle of Coke, making you wonder why he looked particularly down today.

“I suppose it is.” You were wearing a long-sleeved top and a pair of blue jeans. You didn’t dress for the cold weather, in hopes of earning a hoodie for your collection.

“I have to tell you something,” He turns to you with wide eyes, again looking at you sorrowfully as he tells you what was weighing on his mind. “It’s about Jin.” 

After your date with Yoongi, Jin was rushed to the hospital. You caught up with the other members and two managers, who were making calls and pacing around the hall. The BTS members stayed seated in their chairs, waiting for news from a doctor. Hoseok looked worried, Jimin was in tears, Jungkook looked almost angry, Taehyung remained expressionless, and Namjoon was concentrating on his phone.

Yoongi was the most stoic out of everyone, even beating Taehyung for the best “blank” face. You didn’t know what to do, Yoongi just told you about Jin’s condition and now you were suddenly in the hospital, waiting for a proper report from the doctor about this thing.

“You know he’s gonna be okay, right? Jin always bounces back.” From Namjoons’ tone, you could tell this was a regular occurrence. The only problem is, it looks like this is the first time he’s been in a serious condition like this.

“For how long, Joon?” Yoongi snaps, making everyone in the hall turn around in surprise. “I mean, the doctors always say that he can go home and with a little rest he’ll be fine. He had about a month off counting all of the breaks the company granted him, and after he got back to work it just worsened. What should we say about that, huh?” He lowers his voice as he speaks to everyone, not just Namjoon.

“You’re right, Yoongz. We have to stop saying he’ll be okay. There are always gonna be trips to the hospital, especially now since we’re working harder than ever to make sure our next tour is better than anything our fans have ever seen.” Jimin wipes his tears on his sleeve, smiling at Yoongi as you clench your fist in your lap. You felt so helpless and it hurt even worse that you couldn’t do anything to make it better.

Jin’s condition is incurable, a disease that destroys him from the inside. He wasn’t dying yet, but it is a disease, so there is always a possibility of death. His immune system is weak so he gets sick easily. Even though he has the voice of an angel, he often loses his voice due to sore throats or other physical handicaps that prevent him from displaying his full potential.

He is only a few months older than him, but Yoongi looks up to him as if he was a grandfather or father figure, even. There’s no way to explain their closeness apart from the fact that he goes fishing with him because Jin likes to fish. Yoongi wants to spend as much time with him as possible not because he’s afraid of losing him, but more that he wants to remember the good times.

The members of BTS didn’t think it was possible that they would lose one of their own but they had to address it, especially since there was a photo leak of the boys sitting in the waiting room.

Jin only takes “long” to learn choreography because of his weak feet. He can dance well but he can’t move as nimbly as Jimin or Hoseok. Right off the bat, when it comes to learning new choreography he has to slowly break down the steps or else he’d get anxious and pass out. He wasn’t a weakling because of the disease, it was because of his mind.

The kind of criticism Jin got from the media online was harsh. It was enough to push anyone over the edge. That’s why when you saw him go into the practice room alone while you were on your way over to Yoongi’s studio, you took a moment to follow him and talk to him face to face.

“Jin?”

You make your way over to the practice room only to find him passed out on the floor. You call various employees, managers, and even get ahold of 112 at some point. Jin’s condition worsened, he was hooked to an IV tube because of his lack of appetite. 

He’s looking more sickly these days, although it’s been only four days of him being hospitalized with an IV tube attached to his arm. Yoongi has been drowning himself in work, producing songs left and right, creating mashups, remixes, and working on songs for the other members. You barely got to see him with it being close to christmas season and your company preparing a big launch involving a new group of artists to be released to the world. You were part of the planning team for this project, so you had your hands full with work for a while.

You and Yoongi never took an official break, per say, you just didn’t make time for each other for a short period of time.

When you saw him again, it was at an awards ceremony. BTS was coming off the stage and you got a better look at him from the side stand, as he was very close to your section. The crowd for this stage was much smaller than any you’ve seen for BTS. There were about 10 people in your section, so it wasn’t hard for Yoongi to spot you and flash his best smile at you without searching.

He performed with swagger in his movements, his body mesmerizing you as he teased you again with a playful smile and a jolt in his hips. He looked like he was trying to hide something, but at the same time it was so obvious that he was trying to get through to you.

When he came over to your section particularly, and gave a finger heart to the audience, you knew you were screwed. After the performance, you made sure to give him a stern talking to. You were allowed to visit backstage just to check on the MC and make sure he had the right information about your group, but no one minded that you came back regardless just to visit Yoongi. 

He had snuck away, meeting you in a dark and creepy hallway. You both look sketchy as hell, with him in a colorful suit and you wearing a pencil skirt with a baby blue top. Your hair was undone, messy with the way Yoongi had tangled his fingers in your luscious locks, kissing you passionately before you break the kiss to give him a piece of your mind.

“You’re in a lot of trouble, young man.” You grit your teeth as he growls in a low voice, a baritone moan escaping his quivering lips as you bring your knee up to his bulge. 

“Maybe you should rethink who is the one that needs saving.” He squints after you grope his hard length through his pants, making his cock turn red from the rush of blood as you pull out his shaft from the seat of his pants (after pulling down the zipper of course)

“This is a very dangerous game you’re playing at, darling.” As soon as you flick your pencil skirt up and slide your panties all the way down to your knees before removing them completely, Yoongi is hooked. He doesn’t mind having sex fully clothed, as long as you don’t soil his outfit. He still has to meet other people after this, the least he could do is look presentable.

“When will I see you again?” You ask as he languidly strokes his cock, making sure to test your moist clit first with his fingers before sinking his cock into you.

“I don’t know, maybe 3 days? I have a lot of prep work to do and with the little free time I have I need to rest up. It’s not a good idea for you to hang around or I might not get much sleep.” He winks at you before you feel the hardened cock twitch inside of you, feeling the discomfort from his size turning into something more pleasurable.

“Fuck, you’re so big.” He grunts with the first few thrusts before processing what you just said.

“Ah, so you forgot already? Looks like I’m going to have to punish you.” He flips you over so that his lips are on your neck, and your body is cradled against him as you arch your back at the sudden feeling of emptiness from him pulling out so unexpectedly.

“Put it in again, please.” You beg him as he clicks his tongue before placing a hand on your back, and whispering,

“Bend over.” 

You didn’t hesitate to listen that time, only gasping as he spanks your exposed clit and moves up to your ass. And then, he fingers you for the first time today.

You take in the feeling, soaking it up for your memories. There’s not a moment that passes when you don’t fantasize about your dreamy boyfriend. He’s always busy nowadays, and the same could be said for you. You’re pretty sure Yoongi doesn’t think about you as much as you think about him, as he seems very passive about the sex now especially.

You feel like he is doing a task rather than pleasuring you for the sake of satisfying you both. Even with the way his digits glide across your vulva and delicately penetrate your pinkish hole, you feel that he is just doing it so that you remember what he feels like. As silly as your speculations are, you’d like to think that the reason Yoongi was being so passive with you was because he is cheating on you. 

As you get absorbed in your own thoughts, Yoongi takes notice of how you aren’t responding to his touches, abruptly stopping his finger-fucking as you snap out of your daze. 

“Huh?” You blink down at him as he stays at chest-level with you, his palm resting on your thigh.

“You’re zoning out. What’s wrong?” You shake your head, flashing him your best smile before grabbing his cock and stroking him gently between your fingers.

“Just thinking about us. Sorry, it’s hard to focus on just sex when there’s a hundred other things in my mind. I’m glad we’re still making time for each other.” Yoongi gives you a small smile, grabbing your hand and sucking your fingers, individually.

“Yeah, but for how long?” The dreaded question you’d been meaning to ask comes out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“Are we gonna be okay?” You meant your relationship, but you had a slight feeling that he knew as well.

“I don’t know.”

🌼 PART 2 🌼 ⇗

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Three: The Cover

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Words: 2,332

MASTERLIST

~

As soon as the hospital would allow you to leave, Emily and her team drove you to the FBI headquarters where they’d brief you on the plan, whatever that meant.

By the time you’d gotten there, you’d heard more about serial killers and their behavior than you’d ever like to. It took a while for you to calm down enough to properly listen, so when you were ready, everyone was as gentle as possible.

“This unsub has killed three other women at the least,” the bald man from the hospital, Morgan, his name was, said.

“Unsub?” you asked quietly.

“Unidentified subject,” a tall, wiry man said. He seemed a little young to be working for the FBI. “He’s been targeting women of your approximate appearance, same hair color, same height.”

The man flipped over a large whiteboard to reveal pictures of women that looked remarkably like you. It was unnerving in the first place, but downright terrifying when you considered the fact that those women were dead.

“But, I mean, there’s a ton of girls who look like me,” you stuttered. “Just because I look like that doesn’t make me a target, right?”

“All the victims have been discovered wearing elaborate costumes, clothes from many different eras. With each of them, a copy of a classic book accompanied the body.” Morgan looked over the police report the officer had been taking from you. “You said you own a bookstore?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean there’s a killer after me!”

There was an uncomfortable silence as the team looked at each other, clearly unsure of what to say.

“What?” you prompted.

The leader spoke, Hotch.

“We have evidence that this particular unsub has been displaying stalking behavior on an unknown woman in town. Based on your recent break-in and physical appearance, we believe you may be that woman.”

“That’s a pretty big leap,” you said, doubtful. Someone just broke into your house. It didn’t mean there was a crazy stalker killer after you.

“Actually, the theft of a personal item, something that has value to you and only you: the locket, your hairbrush, signifies that the perpetrator cares less about monetary value and more about what you value. This suggests obsession and stalking behavior.”

If a dictionary could talk that’s what it would sound like. 

“So, someone’s gonna kill me?”

The team hesitated.

“Unlikely,” Morgan said after a moment, “Most stalker-killers don’t intend to murder the subject of their obsession. Instead, this particular one seems to be taking it out on women who look like you.”

“So, someone is killing because of me.”

The silence was answer enough.

You weren’t sure what you had planned on doing today, but it certainly wasn’t this. Sitting in the middle of an FBI conference room surrounded by agents telling you that there was a killer obsessed with you.

“What’s gonna happen?” 

A blonde woman who hadn’t spoken yet came and knelt by you.

“We’re going to place a protective detail on you. An agent will be with you at all times while the investigation continues. We’d like you to continue your routine as normal. Any change in your schedule will prompt a change in the unsub’s behavior. He’s comfortable right now and we want him to stay that way.”

Comfortable. They wanted to keep your stalker comfortable.

“Okay. What do I do first?” You just wanted them to catch this guy so you could move on with your life.

“What do you normally do on Saturdays?” Emily asked.

“It depends. It’s the only day I have off from work. Sometimes I hang out with my friend Steve, go to the park, or just stay home and chill.”

“Well, what does the rest of your week look like?”

“I’m at school from seven to three, then work immediately after. Usually, I close up at eleven so I’m home by midnight.”

A stunned silence followed this summary of your schedule.

“What?”

The skinny man spoke, “What you’ve described is roughly an eighty-eight hour work week not factoring in all the hours doing homework.”

“Fast math,” you muttered. “But, yeah, pretty much. I’m either in school, doing homework, or at work. I don’t even know why anyone would want to stalk me. I don’t do anything.”

“Nevertheless, there is someone after you,” the blonde woman said. “We’re going to have to assign someone from the team to be your protector.”

“Meaning one of you is going to have to follow me everywhere?”

It was an uncomfortable situation already and every question you asked seemed to raise the tension in the room.

“Which of you is it gonna be?” Again, the team looked around at each other, seemingly not sure, themselves.                                                                            

“Why is this happening to me.”

It wasn’t a question. And they all knew it.

~

You waited patiently in the next room while the agents discussed what the cover would be. Finally, alone with your thoughts, you found you weren’t as scared as you probably should have been.

Sure, it was frightening to think there was someone obsessed with you, but you’d been in scary relationships before. And when your last ex decided to break in over a year ago, you certainly didn’t get an FBI detail. You wondered if this was at all related, making a mental note to bring it up later. 

In the office next door, their voices were muffled but loud. You considered each member of the team, thinking about which one would be the best protector.

Emily was the one you’d talked to the most, Morgan seemed strong, as did the leader, Hotch. You didn’t know who the older gentleman with the goatee was, but he was probably your last choice. The blonde woman had made a nice impression. The tall skinny guy was quick-witted and you would have laughed at his demeanor if not for the serious situation you were in.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the doors opening and the team coming back in, somber but determined looks on their faces.

Hotch spoke first, surprisingly gently.

“We’ve created a protection program. There will be a surveillance team parked outside your apartment and your workplace at all times. You’ll need to stop going to school during the investigation. In the meantime, you’ll need someone to move into your apartment with you to keep a closer eye.”

“How many bedrooms is your apartment?” The skinny man asked.

“One,” at your answer, the skinny man went pink. “Why?”

“The cover we’ve created places, Doctor Reid, here—“ Hotch gestured to the skinny man “—as your boyfriend who’s just moved in with you. That way he can keep you safe in your apartment.”

“Boyfriend?” You looked at him — Doctor Reid — and he met your eyes. Upon the contact, his eyes went wide and he dropped his gaze to the floor, cheeks reddening.

“It’s the best cover to place him in your apartment,” Emily assured you.

“Okay.”

It would be strange to live with a man. Sure, you’d had guys crash on your couch before and one very short relationship where you’d moved in together. But that was after a year together. Could you deal with a strange man living in your home so suddenly?

“You should probably get going,” Morgan said, making you and Doctor Reid jump slightly.

“Of course,” the doctor said, standing. “Um, I don’t have a car.”

You felt yourself smiling for the first time all day. He’s actually rather handsome, you found yourself thinking. That thought was quickly shooed away and you responded.

“Neither do I. I like walking places. Anywhere I can’t walk, the bus is much cheaper.”

He gave you a soft, awkward smile and ran his hand through his scruffy hair. 

“Well, you’ll have to use a government-issued vehicle,” Hotch said, breaking the spell between you and the doctor. “It’s safer for you to drive. Now, I want you and Reid to head over to his place now so he can collect his things to move into yours. We have a limited time frame to work in so as not to arouse the suspicion of our unsub. Remember, a security detail will be following you at all times.

“When you get back to your apartment, Reid will send the team a text. We’ll continue the investigation from afar and keep you both updated frequently. Any questions?”

He had spoken so fast, it was a lot to take in. 

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” you said, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Hotch looked at Reid, then back at you. He opened his mouth, about to say something, then thought better of it.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said briskly and left the meeting room.

You turned to Reid and forced a smile. This morning did not go how you thought it was going to, but something about this man cheered you up whether you wanted it to or not.

“Shall we?” he said, motioning to the door and clearing his throat.

Nodding softly, you followed him out of the building and into the parking lot. He led you to a small green car that looked too . . . normal to be in the FBI car park.

“Who’s car is this?”

“It's a government issue. They have a bunch of extra cars down here for undercover work. I grabbed the keys to this one on the way out.” Then, more to himself, “I’ve kinda always had my eye on it anyway.”

He was a strange man. Not the type you expect to work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Even more startling was catching a glimpse of the gun on his hip as you both climbed into the car.

Reid must have noticed your sudden uncomfortability because he said, “I’m sorry about the gun, I know it can be unnerving, but it's a standard-issue. It’s to keep you safe.”

“I know,” you said shortly. You’d never liked guns. But Reid seemed to know what he was doing and, strangely enough, you found yourself trusting him.

Several minutes of total silence later, you were outside his apartment, helping him load a box of his things into the trunk.

“You really didn’t need to carry that,” he said, getting back in the driver's seat.

“I know, I don’t mind. I figure it’s the least I can do for you after all . . . this.”

He looked for a moment as though he were about to say something, then rethought it and started the car up, driving toward your apartment.

“We have to take the elevator,” you said, steering him towards the lift. He’d placed his bag on top of the box despite your protest you didn’t mind carrying something. Even though the pile was stacked so high he could barely see over the top.

“The elevator?” he groaned.

“I know, I hate it too, but the stairs are broken so we have to.”

“Isn’t it usually the other way around?” he grumbled as you rode the lift up to your floor. There was barely enough room for the two of you. It was less like an elevator and more like a small closet.

“This is mine,” you said, unlocking the door and stepping into your flat, regarding it very differently now that a stranger was with you.

“Sorry, let me just—“ quick as you could, you cleared some space on the coffee table for him to set down his things, took some dishes to the sink, and shoved a pile of dirty laundry into a basket.

He set the box down and took in his surroundings. You waited patiently for his judgment.

“Woah!” He pointed to your bedroom door where a huge Doctor Who poster was. You cringed. If you’d known you’d be having . . . company, you’d have tidied up a bit, hid some nerdy memorabilia. At least you’d closed your bedroom door.

“Oh, yeah, just ignore that. Guilty pleasure.”

He looked at you, eyes wide and smiling.

“I love Doctor Who!”

Shocked, you let a smile slip, earning one from him in return.

“Cool! Well, there’s something to do with our time together.”

Reid looked away for a moment, then regained himself.

“So, about the sleeping situation. . ?”

“Right, of course,” you grabbed some blankets from the linen closet and walked over to the couch. “Um, it folds out. Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” He perked up, slumping down on the couch and getting comfortable. “I can fall asleep pretty much anywhere, it’s no problem.”

“Okay! Well, I think I’m gonna take a nap. Feel free to help yourself to any food or whatever. The bathroom is just right there. If you need anything let me know. Just make yourself at home, really.”

“Thank you, oh, um . . .” he seemed more flustered than an FBI agent should. Actually, it was kind of comforting. “We haven’t really technically met.”

Oh yeah. You hadn’t introduced yourself to anyone back at Quantico.

“Right! Um, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I guess I assumed you already knew that. You’re Doctor Reid?” 

You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just stared at it awkwardly.

“Spencer! Please, call me Spencer. Sorry for not shaking hands, but the amount of germs passed through a single handshake is astronomical. It’s amazing it’s still in practice. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

He blanched, then backtracked.

“I mean, not that that’s what I’m suggesting. I just thought it was interest— Let me try again. Call me Spencer. Please.”

He flashed you a pitiful smile, seemingly desperate for a fresh start. It wasn’t necessary though, because you delighted in the way he babbled.

“Alright, Spencer,” you smiled warmly at him. “I’m going to sleep now.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Once you’d gotten comfortable in bed, you realized there was no way you’d be able to sleep. Not with everything that happened today. 

Then you thought of the handsome, smart, strong man in the next room who was dedicated to protecting you from any possible threat. 

You were asleep within minutes.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life

[hanbintms]

            it  is  eye  ,  kofi  ,  back  on  your  dash  with  my  newest  child  !  as  a  reminder  :  i’m  twenty4  ,  prefer  she / her  or  they / them  pronouns  ,  and  i  reside  in  the  est  timezone  !  the  muse  that  i  have  flowing  for  hanbin  is  truly  unmatched  even  though  i  literally  came  up  with  him  within  like  . . .  three  hours  ,  no  kidding  .  that  being  said  ,  he’s  a  brand  new  muse  and  i  can’t  wait  to  plot  with  everyone  once  again  (  or  for  the  first  time  !  )  i  won’t  talk  your  ears  off  as  i  know  this  intro  might  get  a  little  long  ,  but  aside  from  that  ,  can’t  wait  to  write  hanbin  with  ya’ll  !

            (  SONG  KANG , THIRTY , CIS  MAN , HE / HIM  )  *  hey  ,  i’m  looking  for  the  office  of  HANBIN  KOO  .  they’re  the  EMPLOYEE  /  IN - HOUSE  CHEF  who’s  known  around  the  office  as  THE  EPICURE  ,  if  that  helps  ?  not  to  be  a  gossip  ,  but  i’ve  heard  that  they’re  AFFABLE  but  UNCOUTH  ,  is  that  true  ?  i  also  heard  that  they’re  the  one  who  THREW  ICED  TEA  AT  HIS  EX  IN  THE  LOBBY  .  anyways  ,  here’s  the  coffee  they  ordered  .

statistics.

            name  :  koo  hanbin  .  nicknames  :  han  ,  hannie  ,  hanbinie  ,  +  binnie  .  age  +  date  of  birth  :  thirty  +  january  9th,  1991  .  zodiac  :  capricorn  .  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / his .  place  of  birth  :  busan  ,  south  korea  .  place  of  residence  :  west  village  ,  new  york  city  ,  new  york  .  orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic  .  occupation  :  in  house  chef  and  internet  personality  .  nationality  :  korean  (  holds  american  citizenship  )  .  ethnicity  :  korean  .  language(s)  spoken  :  korean  ,  english  ,  conversational  italian  ,  and  conversational  japanese  .

background.

            koo  hanbin’s  life  was  relatively  normal  when  he  was  born  .  his  mom  ,  koo  seonghwa  ,  worked  as  a  nurse  in  the  pediatric  department  of  a  local  hospital  in  busan  while  his  father  ,  koo  kyuchul  ,  was  an  office  worker  .  they  weren’t  the  richest  family  ,  nowhere  near  it  ,  but  the  koo  family  made  it  work  .  hanbin  has  more  memories  of  being  with  his  grandparents  more  often  than  his  parents  simply  because  of  their  demanding  careers ,  but  that’s  not  to  say  that  they  weren’t  loving  and  attentive  parents  when  they  had  time  to  be  with  their  only  son  .  

             however  ,  life  began  to  change  for  him  when  was  six  years  old  .  suddenly  ,  the  money  began  to  dwindle  as  quickly  as  it  was  brought  in  .  the  refrigerator  wasn’t  full  unless  seonghwa’s  mother  would  make  some  things  for  them  ,  and  kyuchul  was  coming  home  later  and  later  .  seonghwa  began  to  work  harder  in  an  attempt  to  break  even  ,  but  she  never  seemed  to  get  her  head  above  water  .  she’d  confront  her  husband  about  the  large  sums  of  money  that  would  disappear  from  their  account  ,  but  he  always  blamed  it  on  higher  bills  ,  raised  rent  ,  or  sudden  payments  that  he  had  to  make  .  it  never  made  any  sense  ,  but  seonghwa  started  a  separate  account  to  ensure  their  son  could  at  least  have  food  on  the  table  and  clothes  for  school  .

            the  next  couple  of  years  go  by  and  the  money  situation  worsens  ,  with  seonghwa  getting  to  her  wits  end  .  she  spends  more  time  with  hanbin  at  her  parents’  place  ,  sleeping  with  her  son  in  her  old  bedroom  and  hoping  he  doesn’t  hear  her  cry  at  night  .  she  struggles  to  understand  why  her  husband  is  keeping  secrets  from  her  ,  especially  as  they’ve  been  married  happily  for  the  last  eleven  years  ,  but  it  takes  some  tough  love  from  her  mother  to  get  seonghwa  to  pick  herself  up  .  so  ,  she  decides  to  confront  her  husband  one  night  when  she  finds  out  his  location  from  one  of  his  co - workers  ,  and  she’s  devastated  .  seonghwa  finds  kyuchul  with  a  younger  woman  ,  gambling  away  her  hard  earned  money  .  like  a  scene  out  of  a  drama  ,  seonghwa  kicks  her  husband  where  the  sun  doesn’t  shine  and  promptly  dragged  the  other  woman  outside  to  wack  her  upside  the  head  with  her  purse  .  seonghwa  was  hurt  ,  but  she  had  finally  gotten  answers  ,  and  she  wasn’t  going  to  be  embarrassed  like  this  ever  again  .

            so  ,  seonghwa  and  hanbin  permanently  move  in  with  her  parents  ,  and  it  takes  some  time  for  seonghwa  to  get  over  kyuchul  .  she  focuses  on  her  child  and  her  job  .  from  the  age  of  ten  ,  hanbin  began  spending  more  time  with  his  grandparents  in  their  small  ,  but  popular  barbecue  meat  restaurant  .  when  he  finishes  his  homework  ,  he  helps  his  grandparents  take  orders  ,  and  he  slowly  begins  to  work  the  kitchen  as  he  gets  older  .  his  grandparents  soon  leave  the  kitchen  work  to  him  as  they  get  up  in  age  ,  and  hanbin  runs  the  kitchen  as  if  he’d  been  doing  it  for  over  twenty  years  .  however  ,  when  he  graduates  from  high  school  ,  hanbin  decides  to  spread  his  wings  .  over  the  last  twelve  years  or  so  ,  hanbin  honed  his  cooking  skills  from  his  grandfather  and  spent  most  of  his  childhood  in  the  kitchen  ,  so  his  grandparents  passed  their  restaurant  down  to  seonghwa’s  brother  ,  and  hanbin  left  for  new  york  .

            eighteen  years  old  and  with  only  enough  money  to  get  a  small  sublet  ,  he  knew  he  needed  to  find  a  job  pronto  .  without  formal  kitchen  training  ,  hanbin  would  often  get  turned  away  from  jobs  (  because  he  was  better  than  a  busboy  !  )  and  eventually  ,  the  fates  was  on  his  side  .  he  forced  his  way  into  the  kitchen  of  a  popular  italian  restaurant  ,  immediately  snagging  the  title  of  junior  chef  .  hanbin  ,  a  fast  learner  with  even  faster  knife  skills  ,  easily  works  his  way  up  the  ranks  within  the  restaurant  .  within  six  years  ,  hanbin  becomes  head  chef  and  is  a  force  to  be  reckoned  with  in  the  kitchen  .  although  his  income  changes  significantly  ,  hanbin  starts  a  youtube  channel  in  hopes  of  sharing  his  love  for  food  and  cooking  .  within  a  year  ,  his  following  grows  substantially  ,  and  he’s  approached  to  broaden  his  efforts  by  working  at  masters  international  .

at masters.

hanbin  has  been  at  masters  for  five  years  .  he  started  working  here  after  his  youtube  channel  expanded  ,  and  he  was  approached  to  create  his  own  cooking  content  for  masters’  youtube  channel  .  

basically  ,  he  has  his  own  version  of  test  kitchen  ,  but  it’s  not  really  the  same  thing  .  he  makes  recipes  for  holidays  ,  celebrations  ,  and  is  constantly  showing  how  to  make  traditional  korean  dishes  (  would  not  be  surprised  if  he  has  a  ‘  cooking  with  my  mom  !  ’  type  series  )  .

gives  food  tips  too  like  which  wines  pair  best  with  certain  foods  or  how  to  make  the  most  out  of  your  first  hosting  gig  .  probably  has  a  video  where  he  shares  his  cooking  playlist  because  he  wants  you  to  get  in  the  mood  😌  .

probably  came  up  with  the  special  lunch  for  Daddy  Masters™  but  gets  ticked  when  he’s  asked  to  cook  it  because  does  that  man  know  a  schedule  ?  probably  not  .  [  ‘  we  were  on  a  break  !  ’  specifically  ,  hanbin2   was  on  his  lunch  break  .  ] 

is  it  true  that  he  threw  an  iced  tea  in  his  ex’s  face  ?  absolutely  ,  and  he  has  no  problem  admitting  it  lmao  .  who  was  said  ex  ?  i  guess  we’ll  never  know  [  this  a  number  one  champion  sound  ]  .

probably  well  received  around  the  office  but  i  wouldn’t  be  surprised  if  people  disliked  him  .  it  could  be  his  off  putting  persona  or  honestly  the  simple  fact  that  he’s  got  a  lot  of  sass  and  no  ass  .

headcanons.

you  can  read  a  full  list  of  headcanons  HERE  ;  below  is  an  abridged  version  .

has  a  gyeongsang  dialect  from  living  in  busan  ,  and  honestly  . . .  that’s  hot  .  so  ,  when  he  speaks  in  korean  it’s  rather  strong  and  aggressive  /  pitch  is  vastly  different  from  other  parts  of  korea  .  

i  literally  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  his  personality  other  than  by  using  his  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  he’s  kinda  that  guy  who  knows  everything  but  won’t  tell  you  that  he  does  ?  did  he  eavesdrop  ?  maybe  ,  but  he  won’t  tell  you  that  .  he’s  largely  indifferent  to  a  lot  of  what  happens  around  masters  and  maybe  it’s  because  he’s  been  here  for  half  a  decade  ;  he’ll  just  make  sure  you  drink  water  if  you’re  drunk  and  crying  .

a  Dog  Father™  to  a  little  re:  big  goldendoodle  named  duri  .  he  is  most  definitely  judging  you  and  can  often  be  found  sunbathing  in  that  solarium  .  

a  very  simple  man  when  it  comes  to  his  coffee  :  caffè  americano  or  an  espresso  macchiato  please  .  and  don’t  forget  the  butter  croissant  !

mostly  expressionless  . . .  like  i  really  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  how  he  looks  at  people  because  i  feel  that  stoic  is  too  harsh  of  a  word  .  if  you  wanna  know  how  he  feels  though  ,  he  has  extremely  expressive  eyes  .

he  won’t  admit  it  but  he  loves  hosting  .  office  potluck  ?  he’s  your  guy  .  having  a  conference  ?  he’ll  make  your  snacks  .  if  you’re  coming  over  he’ll  make  a  charcuterie  board  and  will  lie  saying  he  made  it  with  some  stuff  he  had  on  hand  (  but  that’s  a  lie  ,  he  went  to  the  grocery  store  and  obsessed  over  it  for  a  solid  three  hours  )  .

finds  joy  in  the  mundane  .  some  people  might  think  he’s  weird  because  he  loves  grocery  shopping  ,  and  heavily  judges  people’s  carts  because  processed  food  ?  yuck  !  he  won’t  say  that  to  your  face  though  he’ll  just  be  like  ‘  are  you  sure  you  wanna  buy  that  ?  ’  and  will  sneakily  replace  your  frozen  pizza  with  pizza  ingredients  hehe  .

that  being  said  don’t  take  him  grocery  shopping  with  you  NFUDNSFDS  .  he  gets  ticked  about  food  waste  ,  and  those  who  don’t  use  reusable  bags  .   probably  has  a  lil  garden  at  his  place  and  composts  !  is  angry  about  people  calling  a  chunk  of  cauliflower  a  steak  (  in  other  words  ,  don’t  to  it  )  !

wanted connections.

DISCLAIMER  :  i  will  not  be  plotting  anything  romantic  with  characters  under  the  age  of  twenty - five  due  to  his  age  !

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  :  this  is  open  to  literally  anyone  ,  preferably  like  ,  28  to  30  but  we  can  talk  details  .  truly  ,  they’re  his  one  true  love  as  the  title  states  ,  and  i  like  to  believe  that  they  were  a  really  happy  couple  who  had  a  meet - cute  .  they  moved  in  together  and  things  were  great  ,  but  they  broke  up  when  they  felt  a  mutual  dissolve  in  their  relationship  .  that  being  said  ,  they’re  good  friends  now  !

BEST  FRIEND  :  who  wouldn’t  love  a  best  friend  .  basically  ,  they  get  along  well  ,  and  they  are  used  to  sung’s  non - verbal  communication  NVJCNXJV  .  it’d  be  really  fun  if  they  had  totally  different  personalities  but  somehow  they  managed  to  click  .  TAKEN  BY  GRIFFIN  OLSON  .

TASTE  TESTER  :  someone  who  he  calls  on  to  often  try  his  food  at  the  office  .  they  possibly  will  appear  in  his  videos  on  masters’  youtube  channel  ,  so  i  think  a  relationship  based  around  food  would  be  really  fun  !  TAKEN  BY  KENNEDY  CRAWFORD  /  SORAYA  HATHAWAY  .

HORN  DOGS  (  DEROGATORY  )  :  i  have  no  other  name  for  this  plot  but  i’m  thinking  two  people  who  cannot  keep  their  hands  off  of  one  another  .  i’m  talking  sneaky  touches  in  the  elevator  ,  secret  hook  ups  in  the  seventh  floor  bathroom  ,  quick  makeouts  and  nearly  getting  caught  .  bonus  points  if  people  around  the  office  don’t  believe  they’re  Banging™  because  their  personalities  are  so  different  .  

CRUSH  :  also  known  as  ,  someone  having  a  crush  on  him  ,  but  he  sees  them  as  a  friend  (  or  even  worse  ,  like  a  younger  sibling  )  .  TAKEN  BY  AYLIN  SAHIN  .

PLATONIC  SOULMATE  :  best  friends  ,  but  make  it  sentimental  .  they  are  thicker  than  thieves  ,  get  on  each  other’s  nerves  ,  but  they  don’t  know  what  they’d  do  without  the  other  .  finish  each  other’s  sentences  (  and  sandwiches  .  sung  will  finish  it  )  and  are  borderline  like  an  old  married  couple  with  the  way  they  act  .

that’s  all  i  got  now  but  i’ve  reblogged  some  posts  that  can  be  found  HERE  and  i’m  down  to  fill  any  wcs  that  you  may  have  as  well  !

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction to S/o Being a Ballet Dancer

A/n: I'm assuming this means like pointe dancer and/or principal dancer??? Anyway!!! Hope you like it bb!! I had fun doing this one!❤❤❤

Requested by: @desertofdessert​ (thank you bb! feel free to request again! this was so fun!!)

Chan:

Chan watched you gather up stuff and put it in the huge dance bag you carried. Unfortunately, you couldn’t spend Chan’s day off with him. It was just one of those times when your schedules didn’t match up. Chan totally understood. If you managed with his busy schedule than he could deal with yours. He also understood the expectations you were under as a principal dancer.

While he never was in the position himself, he has taken many ballet and modern dance classes when he was in Australia, so he knew how intense your job was. He also knew how short your performing career might be. “Why don’t you come with me?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts. 

“To practice? Won’t I get in the way of the others.” 

You shook your head and tossed an extra water bottle over to him. “I’m just going for a solo run.” Chan smiled and jumped off the couch, following your out the door and to the studio your company rehearsed in. He watched in fascination as you stretched and slipped your pointe shoes on. For the next hour, Chan sat against the mirror and quietly watched in adoration as you danced across the floor. 

“You wanna try?” 

You had the brightest smile on your face as you pulled him up from the floor. You guided him through some steps and giggled as his technique was a little rusty. The two of you danced and laughed for the next couple of hours. You caught his eyes in the mirror as he held your waist to support your feet transition. A blush crept onto his cheek when you reached behind you and ghosted your hand over his cheek, coming down off your toes.

You did so in a way that was so graceful and almost like a dance move in itself. It sent chills down his spine. He loved seeing you in your element. You turned into a different person when you were dancing, he loved seeing you confident and moving without hesitation. He loved seeing your smile as he assisted you through a posse turn. You practically lit up the entire room.

I cant believe some people forget Chris has some classical dance training. I love thinking about him as modern dancer like wow

Minho:

Being a dancer himself, Minho loved how passionate you were about your art. He loved that he could have someone to go to the gym with and would understand having to go on crazy diets. It definitely helped his motivation with you to keep in him in check and vice versa.

However, what he didn’t like was your schedule. Usually, he came home late, and you left home early. He wasn’t the most touchy-feely person, but he did miss seeing you sometimes. So, he made a commitment to you that he would soon regret. There Minho was. At the studio with you. At five in the morning. “Only for you.” He muttered under his breath for the thousandth time. 

It was really his idea. So he was to blame. He was the one who asked you to teach him a routine. However, he had no idea spinning on his bare feet would hurt so much. “You wanna try a lift?” You said coming beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

How were you not out of breath??????? Minho was sweating buckets under his jacket. “Hell yeah!” Why did he say that? That was not what he meant. He meant no. He meant let’s go back to bed like normal people. You explained to him how to do a pretty simple lift and how to get out of it. “Hold up. You want my hand where?” He asked with a mischievous smirk. You rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly. 

“It’s a simple move. Let’s try just once- without the coupe turn.” 

Minho laughed and nodded. He followed your instruction, watching in the mirror. As directed he placed his left hand around your abdomen and this right secured tightly over your right thigh. “Okay and now you lift up and dip.”

“Which way?”

“Forward and down. Duh.”

“DOWN. WHAT IF  I DROP YOU ON YOUR HeAd??”

“You’ll do fine, Minho.” Carefully, he lifted you and he was surprised feeling the muscles of your stomach tighten and hold yourself up in his arms even as he dipped you. “See! You did awesome.” You laughed when you saw his terrified face in the mirror.

Changbin:

Changbin was ecstatic when he found out you were a ballerina. He was so proud of you. After that, he never missed one of your shows. He was always seated front and center with the goofiest, most proud grin on his face waiting for the lights to go down. He also makes you sign his program for every show. He keeps every single one of the programs and he says he wants to make a collage to frame for you.

He does worry about you often, knowing how strict your career is. He knows your schedule almost better than he knows his own. He’ll constantly check up on you and send you a text reminding you that you have to change out your toe pads and drink water.

You smiled hearing your boyfriend’s ringtone as you exited the rehearsal room. “Hi, Binnie! Where are you?” You giggled hearing he was waiting outside for you. He greeted you with a sweet kiss and wrapped his arms around you, blocking the cold air from penetrating your thin sweater.

“I’m buying you dinner. Let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you to the nearest hole in the wall restaurant he could find. He frowned when you ordered so little to eat. He sent you a stern glare as the waiter took away your menu. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped when you saw his face.

“Bin, I’ve got a dress and corset to fit into! Don’t worry, I remember our rule.” When you and Bin started dating he came up with this rule he was adamant you follow, especially while you were prepping for a show. He had a rule that you couldn’t walk away from the table if there was still food on your plate. He instituted the rule when he figured out you weren’t finishing meals the closer a show was.

Towards the end of your meal, you smiled as Changbin placed a generous piece of his food onto your plate. You picked it up and ate it gratefully. You frowned when he placed another piece on your almost empty plate without looking up from his food. Again you ate the food, honoring his rule. This time your boyfriend held eye contact with you as he dropped a huge piece of food on your plate. 

“YAH SEO CHANGBIN!”

“WHAT?”

Hyunjin:

When Hyunjin met you he was instantly fascinated by you. When he found out you were a professional dancer the man was immediately whipped. However, he was so obsessed with the fact with the idea of being the perfect dancing couple he forgot to ask what kind of dancer you were. 

You had nothing to do today. Hyunjin was busy with schedules today and couldn’t come over. You had an audition coming up for the lead in Cinderella so you figured now would be a good time to practice. You had bought this apartment specifically for the fact that the living room was huge and had nice real wood floors. 

Pushing all the furniture out of the way you cleared a large enough space to dance in. Pulling out your semi-new pointe shoes you started prepping them. The room started to smell a little like burning fabric as you burned the frayed edges of your ribbons. A rich sound rang throughout your apartment as you banged the pleats of your shoes on the floor. 

Music filled your apartment as you went through your audition routine. You focused on your turnout, keeping it perfectly positioned throughout your movements. You pushed up on relevae and into an arabesque keeping your core tight and leg high and elegant.

“Hey Y/n, Surpris- HOLY WHAT THE GOOD CLEAR PANTS OF JYP???”

You turned to find Hyunjin staring at you with his jaw dropped in shock. Turning off the music you walked over to your boyfriend with a smile and kissed his cheek. He still stood frozen like the drama queen he was. “Hi, honey! How are you?” He blinked and stared at you. He stepped away and took in all of you, his eyes lingering on your shoes. 

“This is not what I expected......but I am so impressed right now.”

You smiled and pulled him down to kiss you, but he stopped your motion. “Nuh-uh. That’s cheating. You gotta work for it now.” He smirked down at you. With a giggle you rose in your shoes and kissed him, tangling your fingers in his soft hair.

Jisung:

Your relationship with Jisung was almost as old as the both of you. You had always been friends since before you could remember and Jisung could even remember you telling him about your very first dance class. You remembered him kissing you after your first lead performance and his cheeky smile when you and to stand on pointe to reach his lips at the time. 

Jisung loved to watch you dance. It was maybe one of his favorite things in the entire world. He was always proudest when he was watching you float across a dance floor or stage. He was captivated by how powerful you were and what you could make your body do. However, there was another side to it...

“Ji...” You said walking through the door of your shared apartment. Hearing his nickname he jumped off the couch and took your bag off your shoulders. As the days grew closer to your shows he made sure to always be home before you. Even if that meant him getting up at three or four am to go back to the studio. You kissed his cheek with a huge grin and watched with adoration as he put your stuff on the table and picked you up and hurried you over to the couch as carefully as possible.

“Baby, I’m not glass. I can walk!” 

“WE MUST PROTECT THE MERCHANDISE OKAY!”

When you were seated he grabbed the several ice packs from the freezer and made sure that he had enough to switch out later. You giggled watching him scramble to take care of you. Carefully, he took off your sneakers and winced at the red spots on your ankles and feet. “Ji- I can ice my own feet. I’ve been doing it for years-”

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, WOMAN!”

You laughed and pulled him to your lips by the collar of his shirt. You loved that he knew your schedule. Even before you had moved in together Ji had known your schedule after ballet. Ice, eat, ice, stretch, ice and review rehearsal footage, then sleep. “How was your day?” He asked pecking your lips again. You smiled and looked into his soft brown eyes. 

“Fantastic now.”

Felix:

Felix and you had been friends long before he made it big in the music industry. He always knew you danced, but until you started dating a couple months ago he had never really taken an interest in your dancing. Not because he didn’t care. He was just so god damn busy. He felt kind of bad that you didn’t even expect him to take an interest. 

You never asked him to come to a show. You never really talked about rehearsals unless it conflicted with setting up a date, and you never danced in front of him. So, he was determined to change that. You came to the JYP practice room straight from rehearsal as Felix had asked. 

You greeted the boys as the left the studio and found Felix standing by the mirror messing with his phone. He jumped when you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Ready to go, Lix?” You asked after kissing his cheek. “Actually,” He said turning around.

“We are gonna have our date here. You are gonna teach me about ballet!” You laughed and kissed him with a bright smile. You knew he wouldn’t last more than two hours. An hour later, Felix had shed his hoodie and was sweating through his tank top while you stood happily in your leggings and pointe shoes. You had to admit he was doing better than you thought.

“Oh my god! How do your feet open like that, you mutant!” Felix cried out trying to stay in first position. 

However, when it came to actually dancing, Felix was fascinated. It was so different from how he danced. Felix had surprisingly good extension and he got some pretty good air on a couple leaps. And he loved watching you dance-especially when you went up on your toes. He thought you looked beautiful and elegant. 

“That’s it I can’t take it. Take me home.”

“Great! Now I can teach you the second half of ballerina life.”

“What’s that?”

“Ice.”

I've low-key wanted to do a Felix ballet au bc gosh darn he is just so elegant and wooooooooww ballet!felix

Seungmin:

Seungmin loved watching you dance. The two of you didn’t live together yet, so he took every opportunity to see you dance anytime he could. He came to all of your shows and you practically had to kick him out of your closed rehearsals. For his birthday (per his request) you choreographed and performed a routine to his favorite Day6 song. 

Date nights for the two of you usually happen after your rehearsals end and consist of your icing your body on the couch with Seungmin next to you, either watching a movie or talking and eating takeout. 

“Seungmin? Are you here?” You called out into your apartment. Sounds from the kitchen confirmed the presence of your boyfriend. “Minnie?” You dropped your bag by the door and took off your shoes. Seungmin shuffled out of your kitchen with two mugs of tea in hand. 

“What are we doing tonight?” He asked, setting the tea on your coffee table. He sighed when he saw the innocent smile on your face. “Really......again?” He laughed when you nodded excitedly. 

“Fine.”

You cheered as he went to get ice packs and you pulled up Centerstage on Netflix. Seungmin was a good sport. This was probably the twenty-sixth time he had seen this film since dating you. He knew that the movie made you happy, especially if you had a rough day at rehearsals. 

“Man,  Cooper gets douchier and douchier every time we watch this.” Seungmin sighed, his arm around you. 

“Yeah and Charlie gets dreamier and dreamier.”

“What?”

“What-”

Jeongin:

Jeongin watched the video you sent him with a huge smile on his face. You were on tour with your company, so you couldn’t be with him for a few days. Even though you were still in the country, he really missed seeing you. 

It was so weird for him to not pick you up from practice. His eyes twinkled as he watched you dance across the backstage area of a venue. He smiled when he saw you rush back over to your phone and wave to him with a happy grin. The video was sent two days ago. You had talked earlier that day but he still missed you. 

“Jeongin,” His attention snapped away from his phone and to Chan towering above him. His hyung helped him stand up and clapped him on the back. “Ready to go back to practice?” Jeongin sighed and nodded. “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Chan said running to his bag. 

“Chan I’m just kind of depressed with Y/n away for so long.” 

“I know. That’s why we are going to Y/n’s next show.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened as he watched Chan pull out two tickets to your show, Giselle. After practice, Chan drove the two boys two hours away to your venue to see her perform. Jeongin watched you dance across the stage with bright eyes. He loved watching you become the character of Giselle, though he couldn’t help but be a little jealous of the man who played your fiance.

When he and Chan surprised you backstage, you jumped into his arms and kissed him all over. “Innie! You came!” He smiled and wouldn’t stop talking about how fantastic you were. 

“Y/n! Oh my god! You were so good! The whole leap thing, and your turns! And the thing with the lift- it was so cool! You did incredible baby!”

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