#the prices of literally everything killed my wallet

[melit0n]

Some miscellaneous Paris photos I completely forgot to post! I have some Louvre photos, as well as a couple other misc. photos which I might share later as well!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

⚡ Firelight

Firelight: Harrison Wells built STAR laboratories, but he didn’t do it alone. Every great man has an even greater woman standing beside him.

Warning: Nada.

To Note: EoWells x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Tapping the invitation against your lips, you stared at the passing city as the car Harrison sent to pick you up made its way to Harrison’s house, or should I say estate? You had been over to the place plenty of times, and it still left you flabbergasted with how nice everything was. Considering the years you had spent working with him, you thought he literally lived at the lab.

He had been amused at your shock and had given you the grand tour the first time you ended up there; let’s just say the library with the skylights and beautiful fireplace was your favorite room in the house. The kitchen came a close second, of course.

You weren’t heading over for a friendly chat about the lab construction or talk about the P.R. work you were doing for him. No, the lab was officially finished, and there was a big party being held at Harrison’s house with the investors attending. AKA, all of the people who put money into the lab you had spent so much time corresponding with. You were the business part of the business, Harrison was the face, and the benefactors were the ones with the wallets.

Despite your usual preference to stay behind the scenes and not deal with face-to-face correspondence, Harrison had convinced you to attend his party… as his date. Everyone knew your name, they just didn’t have a face to connect it to. Well, after tonight, they would, and you weren’t sure how they would take learning that you were a woman.

Women in this type of business often struggled to be heard; misogynistic views often clouded views on the female capacity to build an empire. You had done just that, built a billion-dollar research company, only you were sure everyone was under the assumption that you were a male. Your name was often misleading.

Your eyes caught sight of Harrison’s house, and the numerous vehicles pulling up to the front to drop off couples. You just had to smile and be pleasant; Harrison would do most of the talking since he was the one with the brain for science. Men like these ones only saw women as an arm piece.

You rotated the invitation between your fingers and looked down at your dress to check it one last time. It was on the high end of the price range, but it certainly felt unbelievable on your skin. A stark black, the dress was form-fitting all the way down to where it stopped just beneath your knees. It had no embellishments but did have a unique top, one off the shoulder sleeve and the other straight. Both were connected to a ring holding the dress up; that was the most detail-oriented the dress got.

Simple was best on you, you found, and wearing all black with white heels color-coordinated with the suit Harrison would be wearing. You leaned over further and looked at said heels; while beautiful, the red-soled heels added a good four inches to your height and would no doubt be killing your feet by the end of the night. Oh well, you could never resist a heel that made your legs look amazing.

“I’m going to need a strong drink by the end of the night,” you sighed to yourself as your black bracelet let out a chime. Looking down at it, you twisted your wrist to look at the band going over your inner wrist and saw that Harrison had texted.

You are coming, right? I need the woman who got my lab built with me tonight. — Harrison Wells

A small smile appeared on your red lips as you swiped the message away, content to leave the great Harrison Wells hanging until you made your physical appearance. Looking out the window, you sat patiently until the car pulled up to the house. Thanking the driver, you slipped out of the car and sauntered up to the front door.

Handing off your invitation, you flashed the man collecting the invitations a neat smile as he checked over the name on the invitation to the one on the roster he held.

“Welcome, Miss Holmes, Dr. Wells instructed me to give you a message upon your arrival,” the man said.

“I’m guessing he wants me to go find him?” you queried with a raised eyebrow; the man nodded before gesturing to where a coat drop had been set up.

“If you will allow my associate to take your coat…” With one last smile and thank you, you made your way over to the coat check, slowly slipping off the light jacket you had worn. You handed it off.

“You can put my jacket in the back,” you instructed with a smile. “I will be here for a while.”

“Yes, ma’am.” From there, you walked further into the house, weaving between couples and groups of chattering men. You got a few looks, perhaps some that lingered a tad too long for your taste, before spotting Harrison out on the patio. He had his hands in his pockets and was talking to a few older gentlemen you recognized as a few of the big benefactors for Star Labs.

“…Maddox went head to head with a few of the building contractors who tried to shortchange the materials. Everything has been triple-checked, twice. I have never met someone more capable of getting things done.”

“Anyone I know?” you questioned as you sauntered over with a light smile stretched across your lips. Your heels clicked on the travertine tiles as you sidled up next to Harrison, who now had a smile on his face.

“I was wondering when you’d show your face,” Harrison said as he stretched out an arm and slipped it around your waist. He looked down at you with a twinkle in his eye before looking back at the older men. “This is Maddox Holmes, the woman responsible for getting Star Labs constructed.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you after so many years,” you greeted as their faces morphed into looks of dumbstruck disbelief.

“I don’t think you need an introduction since you seem to know everything, Maddy,” Harrison spoke up, making you look up into his face with a raised eyebrow. “But this is Edward, Marcellus, and Chance.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said with a glowing smile. “I apologize for not meeting with you in person before, but I’ve been quite busy.”

“Considering the amount of work you got done, that is quite alright, Miss Holmes,” Marcellus answered with a smile. “Though I wonder how you put up with such a stubborn scientist?”

A small laugh went through the group, and you found yourself giggling and shaking your head.

“Harrison and I have been friends for quite some time; he isn’t anything I can’t handle,” you responded while looking up at the indicated man and patting his chest with your hand. “Besides,” you went on to add with a grin. “Managing cranky old men is what I do.”

“Cranky old men?” Harrison huffed out at you, his eyebrows popping up at you. You simply gave him a smug look.

“I’ve seen you without your coffee,” you pointed out, placing your hand on your hip just above where his rested. “Never again, Harrison, never again.”

“My wife says the exact same thing, Miss Holmes,” Chase interjected with a smile. “Only she enjoys watching me suffer while the coffee is brewing.”

“You should introduce me,” Harrison let out a groan next to you as Chase grinned. “Something tells me that we’ll get along just fine.”

“Introduce Maddy to your wives and the suffering will never end,” Harrison told Chase as you smirked up at him.

“You told me to make friends, you know,” you teased him, batting your eyelashes in pure innocence at him before earning a heated look from him. “I’m just doing what you said.”

“You are making me eat my words, that’s what you are doing.” He rebutted before chuckling and shaking his head. “I’m assuming you have yet to stop by the bar, what will the lady be drinking tonight?”

You tilted your head to the side and thought it over.

“Hmm, host's choice I think,” you responded, your lips curving. “You know what’s best, but please, nothing too hard, save that for when I really need it.”

“What makes you think you’re going to need one?” Harrison teased as he turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. “I think I have a bottle of Dom tucked away, care for a taste?”

“It’s Dom, Harrison, don’t you think you should save that for when we really need to celebrate?”

“Chardonnay?” He countered.

“That’s better, thank you,” you smiled up at him and then watched as he pulled away and strode for the bar set up.

“I get the feeling he keeps you close.” You twisted your head and flashed a smile at Edward.

“Oh, he does,” you said in agreement. “Probably doesn’t want me to be enticed somewhere else. He knows I’m good at what I do.”

“I think everyone knows that,” Edward responded, the other men nodding in agreement. “Harrison has always been quite tight-lipped about you. Sometimes I wondered if you even existed, but things always got done so…”

“He’s always been like that,” you said while shrugging your shoulders. “But enough about me, please, tell me about the work you do at your own companies.”

You helped see the last guest of the party out the front door, making sure that all coats had been collected and nothing had been left behind. It was almost midnight and as predicted, your feet hurt like you would not believe. All you wanted to do was sit down and never put the shoes on again, but you were going to make sure everything was taken care of before doing so.

Collecting the stray glasses from the patio, you brought them inside and put them on a nearby table to be taken care of before closing the doors and locking them. The staff made quick work of cleaning up, and thanking them, the house became almost empty. It was just Harrison and you.

“Harrison?” you called, walking around and trying to find him. “Everyone has gone and the staff made their exit, do you need anything else?”

“Come to the library!” He called back. Your eyebrow raised in question seconds before you were clicking your way towards the indicated room. Making it to the double doors, you opened one and stepped in. Blinking in surprise, you stared at the lit fire before shifting your eyes to Harrison, who then smugly popped the top off the Dom bottle he had been saving.

“Really?” you questioned him with a snort.

“It’s a special occasion and I think you need a drink, a good one at that.” He replied with a cheeky grin before pouring the champagne into a glass. “Come on, I know your feet are killing you.”

You gave him another pointed look before reluctantly walking over to the sofa in front of the fireplace and sitting down with a big sigh. Harrison handed you a champagne glass before reaching for your legs and pulling them into his lap.

“That went better than expected,” he mused as his long and nimble fingers gently pulled your aching foot from the deadly contraption called a heel. A soft groan passed through your lips as Harrison removed your other heel and set them down on the floor. “There were a few times I thought you might throttle someone.”

“I have more self-control than that,” you grumpily replied as he started massaging your feet, rubbing deep circles into the pad. You took a long sip of the champagne. “Though I will admit the thought was tempting.”

Harrison chuckled before moving his fingers along your foot and working your heel, his touch practically feeling like a soft vibrator. You let out a noise of happiness.

“How are you so good at that?” you moaned with a sated sigh, feeling like you could melt beneath his touch.

“Practice,” Harrison rasped, his dimples coming out as he smiled. Leaning your head back, you stared at the skylight overhead, looking past the pane of glass to see the twinkling stars overhead.

“Will it be worth it?” you asked him, your mind floating off into the question of will it work. “I still have a hard time picturing it, even after all this time. I mean, did you even need me?”

Harrison moved his hands to your other foot.

“Everything will be worth it, Maddy, I promise you that. The things we will achieve with this lab, it is insurmountable, and none of it would have happened without you,” he said with an intense look. “Don’t ever think that your hand wasn’t needed.”

“It’s hard not to, I don’t have a PhD in physics, mechanical engineering, biochemistry… I’m a business major. It’s nothing glamorous and certainly doesn’t require the thinking everyone else at the lab does.”

“But I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you,” Harrison said before bending down and placing a kiss on your knee. You sighed at the look in his eyes; he always made it so hard to argue with him. Persistence, that was one of his best qualities.

“I told you, I’ll be with you as long as you need me,” you told him, leaning back into the couch. “You’re my work boyfriend, remember?”

A chuckle slipped from his lips as he ran his hand up and down your shin.

“Ah yes, and you are my work girlfriend. We can thank Cisco for coming up with that moniker.”

“How about not?” you snorted while shaking your head. “We do that and it’ll only get worse. The last thing we need is for the public to think we are actually dating.”

“Oh, come on, Maddox, would it really be that bad to date me?” Your glass, which you had been raising to your lips, paused. You blinked at him.

“Harrison, now is not the time to joke about those types of things. I’m your employee, you are my boss,” you said softly, your eyes echoing hesitancy. You had lines you had to draw at work, even if you didn’t want to, and with your services indicating that Harrison Wells was your boss, there was no way you were going to let your relationship go beyond a good-natured one.

His lips twitched mischievously, and Harrison checked his watch.

“Well, as of six minutes ago, your contract with me ended. So therefore, you are no longer my employee.” You had to bite your lip to stop the snort from passing through your lips. God, this man really did think of everything.

“You are incorrigible, Harrison,” you murmured before taking a sip of champagne. He cocked his head to the side with that little smirk of his biting at the corner of his mouth. Your eyes dropped down to his fingers, which slowly stroked upwards to your knee again. “Fine, but just so you know—“

“You have an unhealthy obsession with flowers and absolutely hate Italian food? I know, Maddy. Work girlfriend, remember?” You scowled at him for mentioning your love of flowers and relating it to an obsession, but ended up letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re going to buy out a flower shop the first chance you get, aren’t you…” His smirk only grew, and you rubbed your forehead. “Harrison, no.”

“I’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t I?” Harrison said with a cheeky yet serious smile. Then he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours. Damn it. This man really knew how to kiss, and you were incredibly lucky that you had stayed strong while working for him, because you didn’t want to stop. The fireplace crackled and popped as your lips parted. You let out a sigh.

“You are acting like I’m going to disappear now that my job is done.”

"Are you?" Harrison asked, reaching up with his hand to run his fingers through your hair. Your lips twitched into a lazy smile.

"Probably not, you’ve grown on me. I’m sure I’ll find a contract job here in Central City," you reassured him, leaning against the couch and tilting your head up to the skylight. "Plus, I think I’m in love with this library."

"You’re staying for the library and not me? Maddy, I’m hurt." You both chuckled for a moment.

"I think we both know who I’m really partial to."

"So I get to keep you?" Harrison’s smile slowly started to widen. You snorted and rolled your eyes, dropping them back down to his burning blue ones. This was not how you expected this job to turn out, but the man had made it nearly impossible to not fall in love. Your lazy smile widened.

"Yes, Harrison, you get to keep me."

Date Published: 2/21/22

Last Edit: 2/21/22

EoWells Masterlist

The Flash Masterlist

[shallow-seas-we-sail]

£ (A Girls Night Out on the Town)

Alex taps the center of the table, “Okay, call it. Fifty bucks in the pot. Shot glass in five. Lets go.”

“The barstool in ten.” Sam grins and smacks her money into the center of the table. Nia rolls her eyes over the glass of her fruity concoction before setting it down and turning in her stool to rummage through her purse, “Shattered cue ball in fifteen.”

Alex lifts her chin towards Kelly, “What do you think?”

Kelly shifts in her seat, and absently picks at the label of her beer bottle, “I think this is a bad idea.” 

“Boo, okay mom.” Sam deadpans into the top of her bottle before taking a sip. Alex snorts as she throws back a shot, the tequila nearly burning its way out of her nose.

Kelly drums her fingers impatiently on top of the table before reaching into her jacket pocket, “Fifty on the table in..,” she pulls her lip between her teeth and narrows her eyes towards the bar where Kara is waving down the bartender, “eighteen.”

“Why do you always pick such a weird number?” Nia asks, poking at the small umbrella sticking out of her drink, “This isn’t the Price Is Right.”

“Isn’t it though?” Kelly retorts with a sideways smile as she slides the bill across the table.

“Alright, you’re last, Luthor.” Alex jabs Lena with a playful elbow, “Main event. Whatcha got?”

Lena presses a single finger to her lips thoughtfully and her eyes flit over to Kara, who looks confused as to how to precariously balance the six drinks the bartender has placed down in front of her. 

“The jukebox is getting fried tonight in twenty.” Lena says ruefully as she opens her wallet and lays a crisp bill down. Alex smiles, and pokes a shot glass across the table towards Lena that she waves off, “I hate tequila.”

Alex gives a knowing look, but doesn’t stop the forward momentum of the glass until it is bumping against Lena’s knuckles, “Come on...”

Lena licks her lips, and plucks her wine glass up, giving a tight smile towards the older Danvers sister, “Fine, but this is,” she taps the side of the shot glass, “contingency. plan. only.”

continue on ao3 or

Alex scrunches her face up, a little drunk and a little excited as she reaches into the center of the table, collecting the money in a scramble and shoving it into her pocket, “Okay. okay, okay, okay, here she comes. Shh.”

“You are literally the only one talking.” Nia says, flicking a rogue pretzel across the table towards Alex.

“Talkin’bout what?” Kara asks, carefully setting down the drinks and glancing around the table.

Alex freezes for a moment, a tight smile plastered across her face and narrows her eyes, “Uh...”

“My semester abroad.” Lena finally interjects.

Sam’s eyes widen, a devious smirk pinching at the corner of her lips, “Oh?”

Lena glances towards Sam, giving a subtle wink as Kara takes the seat beside her, “Play along.” she mumbles half-heartedly out of the side of her mouth.

Sam’s eyes narrow for a moment as she weighs her options. If Lena is giving her the green light to improvise, she is going to take it and run. Decision made, she gives an emphatic nod, “Right. You semester abroad in..”

“London.” Lena finishes.

Sam snaps her fingers and pushes lightly against her friends shoulder, “Of course. London.” 

Sam is sure that was a semester she visited, but can’t quite remember. She does distinctly remember the apartment Lena had sublet above a bar and the fish and chips smell that clung to everything. That doesn’t mean that she can’t work with this tiny sliver of information. She is also in a wicked dry spell in their betting pool, so, whatever it takes to get a barstool shattered, she is ready to take on. She needs to poke Kara juuuust enough, and honestly, it won’t take much, and Sam is teetering on the sort of drunk that she will absolutely use to her advantage to bend the rules in her favor. 

Kara takes a sip of her drink, the strong taste burning in the back of her throat and winces as she lowers her glass, “I didn’t know you did a semester abroad.”

Nia’s face screws up in bewilderment as she looks between Sam and Lena, “What the fuc-? OW.” she snaps towards Alex, who is digging the point of her boot into her shin beneath the table.

“Are you okay?” Kara perks up.

“Yeah, just a little bitch.” Nia says curtly, cutting her eyes at Alex.

“Hmm?” Kara hums, half paying attention as she leans back and stretches her arm out so it rests on the back of Lena’s chair. She barely contains her smile when Lena gives an assuring shoulder shimmy, and pushes in closer, settling into the crook of her arm.

“Itch. Just a little itch.” Nia laughs mirthlessly, bending forward, and swatting at Alex’s foot under the table, “It’s fine.”

“So,” Kelly intervenes, resting her hand on her girlfriend’s thigh and giving a tighter-than-warranted squeeze, “how did you like London?”

“It was beautiful. I enjoyed the autonomy of being out there and exploring a new place on my  own,” Lena says wistfully, “especially becau-..”

“Because I was there.” Sam finishes, her head falling forward and sucking in a breath as she slams her shot glass down on the table, “Visiting and pulling the stick out of this one’s ass and dragging her out all over the city.”

Sam grins, Oh yeah, it’s all coming back to her now. 

Lena’s distant, nostalgic look shifts into something more dumbfounded and with a pinch of horror as she turns her head slowly towards her friend.

“Don’t you dare.” she warns.

Sam wiggles her eyebrows and gives a faux pout towards her friend as she leans in conspiratorially and whispers, “Playing along remember?”

“I thought you went to school with Andrea?” Kara asks, absently twirling the stirrer in her glass.

“I did. Sam visited, usually around finals to cause trouble.” Lena says, side-eyeing her friend.

Sam waves off the comment, even if it is true, “No. I came to loosen you up because you were, and continue to be, a nerd.” she mocks in a low tone, “Plus you were literally living off of Wispa bars and black coffee. I was doing you a favor.”

Kara smiles and leans in, and goosebumps begin to prick up on Lena’s arm as warm puffs of breath pass over her ear, “Oh, so that’s what you keep stowed away in your desk drawer.”

Kelly turns over her hand, ignoring how insufferable those two are, and glances at her watch, “Three minutes. You’re about to be out.” she whispers out the side of her mouth to her girlfriend.

“Like hell I am.” mumbles Alex, shooting her hand up and snapping her fingers. She presses her beer bottle to her lips, finishing the last of the amber liquid as a waiter approaches the table, “Six shots. I don’t care. Anything.”

The waiter gives a tight smile and nods as she heads back towards the bar. Alex drums her fingers impatiently against the table as she tries to peer around the throngs of people crowding the bar and glances down to her watch.

“You think showing up to my flat in the middle of finals and dragging me out to every bar so you could find someone and get laid was a favor?” Lena asks incredulously. 

“Come on, come on.” Alex pleads, biting her lip, and gives a small fist pump when the waiter returns, “Thaankk you,” she sing-songs as she picks up the glasses from the waiter’s tray and passes them around table.

“Pffft, that flat was a glorified closet at best,” Sam says, lifting her shot glass. Lena scrunches up her nose and makes a face, “and secondly, I wasn’t the only one getting laid.”

Kara stiffens and her hand tightens around the shot glass as she raises it. Alex is so, so sure she hears it crack.

“What are we cheers’ing to?” Kelly asks, picking up her glass, and studying reddish liquid, “And what is this?”

Nia lifts her glass to her nose and grimaces, “Oh, that’s a Washington Apple,” and she wafts the offending odor away from her face.

“Okay, okay. To Lena’s semester abroad.” Alex chortles and raises her glass.

“To Lena’s semester abroad!” the other women echo, except Sam, whose eyes stay fixed on Lena as she raises her own glass.

It is too easy, honestly.

“To Pound Town.” Sam crows and throws back her head, the drink easily sliding down her throat.

Lena nearly chokes as she swallows, and quickly Kara’s hand is on her back, shot forgotten on the table and eyes wide with worry, “Are you okay?”

Nia licks her lips and shakes her head, trying to loosen the disgusting taste in her mouth, “What did you just say?”

“I-.. I’m fine.” Lena waves a hand and presses it against her chest, sucking in a breath.

Alex clenches her jaw and reaches across the table, snatching Kara’s drink and begrudgingly finishing it, “Damnit.”

“Sorry, babe.” Kelly consoles, rubbing her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Alex sits motionless for a moment before snapping her head up and staring at Sam, “Did you just say ‘pound town’?”

Nia nods in agreement as she sips on her drink, trying to get the bitter taste of cranberry and whiskey out of her mouth, “Yeah, what the hell is that?”

Sam leans back in her chair and brings her arm around Lena’s shoulders, squeezing and pulling her in close to her side and out of Kara’s loose embrace.

Kelly sucks in a breath and glances down to the table, eyes wide by the sheer audacity of Sam. While Alex audibly scoffs at the power move. Nia sways in her seat, and points an accusatory finger in Sam’s direction.

“I see your angle. Rein in it, why dont’cha?” she laughs, drunk and proud of her wordplay, and raises her hand for a high five. When no one at the table moves, she lowers her arm and rolls her eyes “Whatever,” she mumbles, poking at her umbrella again. 

Kara looks over to the growing space between herself and Lena and leans forward slowly, her eyes fixed on Sam and set to kill.

“Pound town,” Sam twirls a finger into Lena’s ponytail, her tongue peeking out between her lips as she glances at Kara, “We used to go there all the time.”

And this must be what death feels like, calmly and cold, settling into her palms, its icy grip moving its way up her back. And Lena is going to welcome it right here and now. Just to die and be dead and cease to exist. Lena closes her eyes, ready to welcome oblivion. She should have known better than to give Sam an inch. Because if she gives Sam an inch she takes a whole goddamn marathon mile.

Alex lifts a single finger and motions between Sam and Lena from across the table, “You two used to...” her eyes wide and expectant, but mostly pleading for her question not to have an answer. Not for her sake, but for Sam’s.

“Go to Pound Town?” Sam finishes as she lifts up her beer bottle and takes a sip, “almost every night.”

“Stop saying ‘pound town’.” Kara pleads and squeezes her eyes shut as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Pound City, then.” Sam quips, and waves her hand in a flourish as her other dips down into the collar of Lena’s shirt, tracing abstract patterns just below the nape of her neck, “Whatever, Lena loved it.”

Lena tucks her head, chin pressing against her chest, and glances woefully over to Kara who will likely pick up her body from the sticky bar floor and be writing her obituary by morning. Lena gives herself over to something greater and makes her peace that the only monument to the Luthor name will be an “In Remembrance” plaque hung up above the jukebox in an alien bar.

Sam presses a wet, drunk kiss against Lena’s temple; which causes her to jerk up, ramrod-straight in her chair. Maybe if she doesn’t move, she will just disappear. 

“Shit, babe, remember that night you were all like, ‘no, we can’t go again,’ and I told you we totally could, and finally, you were like, ‘okay but this is the last time Sam-a-lamb,’ and one time became three times and then six times, and finally you had gotten so much you couldn’t even walk straight.”

Kara’s eyes slowly grow wider, and Alex realizes with growing horror that her sister is possibly about to commit murder. Like, public execution. Like, kill-Sam-and-stick-her-on-a-post-in-front-of-Al’s-as-a-warning-to-all-others-not-to-remove-Lena-Luthor-from-super-cuddles assassination.

“Is she always this extra?” Nia asks painfully, lowering her head down onto her crossed arms, and resting on the table.

“She’s insufferable, and obviously she is embellishing.” Lena says, jabbing an elbow into an amused Sam’s side, “But you can practically get anything you want. We did spend many an inebriated night there.”

“Kara!” Alex yelps, slipping out of her seat with a small, drunken stumble, and linking her arm through her sister’s. “How’bout a round of pool, huh?”

Kara plants her feet, and the dirty linoleum floor cracks beneath her, “Shiiit,” Nia slurs, lifting her head up, “should’ah bet on the floor.” Alex bungees back into sister’s side, and tugs her arm again. This time Kara’s relents and allows Alex to pull her away.

“She’s messing with you.” Alex hisses as she shuttles them away from the group towards the pool table. Kara’s gaze stays planted directly over her shoulder, eyes flickering with cerulean heat as she half-listens to her sister.

“Six.” Kara says resolutely, hands nearly on her hips as she turns before thinking better of it, “Six, Alex.” she hisses back at her sister, “6.” she says, defeated. 

“How in the hell can I compete with that? Bring gatorade and trail mix to the bedroom?” Kara says, worry edging into her voice.

“Like Lena is ever going to be in your bedroom at this rate.” Alex slams the rack down on the table, and Kara straightens up, “Do you know what Pound Town even is.”

Kara waves her hands in a flourish, and plugs her ears, “La-la-no-no-no. Stop saying that.” she squeezes her eyes shut.

Alex juts out an arm, and collects a pool stick propped up from against the wall. She leans down, squaring up over the edge of the table and strikes a perfect break against her sister’s abdomen. Kara looks down in faux shock at the perfect blue ‘o’ dusted on her shirt.

“It’s like...the limey version of a Dollar General.” Alex pushes herself up from the table's edge, and leans back, rolling her eyes, “Kelly looked up on her phone while you were death-glaring at Sam. You fall for this every time she does it.”

“I do not.” Kara tuts, crossing her arms.

“The Rail Yard?” Alex drops her chin, giving her sister a blank stare.

“Tha-..that could’a been a sex dungeon.” Kara protests, pointing an accusatory finger at her sister.

“It was literally a restaurant they remodeled from an old train depot.”

“How was I supposed to know that?!” Kara throws her hand ups

Alex’s eyes go white for a moment as they roll into the back of her head, “This is it. This will be the time you two idiots finally make me stroke out.”

Kara’s head falls back and she stares up at the ceiling, a frustrated groan rumbling in the back of her throat.

“Look, she knows how you feel about Lena. Hell, anyone with eyes knows, and both of you just sit there, ocular intercoursing each other out in the open and we all have to suffer as unwilling voyeurs every time you two are within ten feet of each other.”

Supergirl looks off into a distant corner of the smoky bar, eyes shining with the knowledge of the cosmos. She also doesn’t need this shit. She is practically a god.

Alex snaps her fingers in front of her sister's face, “Don’t go all smoldering and stoic. This is the same thing she did at game night.”

“What game night?” Kara drops her arms, relenting to her ever present weight of loving Lena bearing down on her shoulders.

“The best of fiv... ya know what,” Alex shoots up her hands, effectively cutting herself off, “wrong timeline.” Kara blinks, “The point is, she is trying to rile you up so you finally make a move.”

Kara’s brain short circuits and boots back on, “I can make a move.”

“It’s been four years.”

“I can make all kindsa moves.”

Alex purses her lips and frowns, “You are drawing up blueprints to plan the plans for your moves.”

“Whatever,” Kara groans, changing the subject “What’s the bet tonight?”

“FIfty on what you break.” Alex taps her hand over the bundle of cash in her pants pocket.

“What did you have?”

“Shot glass in five.”

Kara blows out a low, sad whistle and clutches her hand to her chest, “Rao, have a little more faith in me then that.”

“Sam has the barstool in ten.” Alex smirks deviously, “And, there is a contingency plan.”

“What?” Kara whines through her teeth, eyes widening behind her glasses, “I thought that was a myth.”

“Someone has to make a move. And it’s not like you were ever gonna get around to it.” Alex snarks, widening her stance, arms akimbo, “Plus it’s not a myth, super dork. It’s just in a group chat that you’re not a part of. Tonight is the night, so if you don’t, Lena is.”

“That’s rude you know.” Kara chastises, and drops into a take-off stance, rubbing her hands together and a little giddy at Alex’s revelation. She bites her lip in thought and glances up to her sister, “How much time do I have?”

“Almost...” Alex looks at her watch and winces, “six and a half minutes give or take? Where are you go-..” But a gust of air is already hitting Alex’s face as she stares at a swinging alleyway door. Kara is gone, and a distant boom echoes in the distance as the sound barrier cries out, cracked by one lovesick and slightly horny Kryptonian.

“Oh shit.” Alex breaths in, and then forces a bright smile as she turns, making her way back to their table of friends.

“Where did Kara go?” Lena asks more jovially than necessary as she pushes a hand into the side of Sam’s laughing face. 

“Probably flew to Sexless in the City.” Sam blurts out, busting into another fit of hysterics as the front door blows up. The gust of accompanying wind sweeps up a dusting of leaves that silhouettes Kara, box tucked beneath her arm in its threshold.

“God,” Kelly whines, “Good or bad. You Kryptonians and your dramatic entrances.”

Sam throws a thumb over her shoulder towards the door, “I wasn’t that dramatic.”

“Mmm, but weren’t you though?” Alex tilts her head side to side thoughtfully.

“Took a trip over to Pound Town and got this one her own girlfriend.” Supergirl says, voice low, dripping with bravado and jutting a finger at Sam as she stalks forward.

“Told ya to Rein it in!” Nia perks up, and gives herself an astral high five, incandescent purple sparks fading off the tips of her fingers because, Boom. Fireworks.

Kelly lolls her head in Alex’s direction and screws her eyes shut because she is just so tired™ and because ‘these fucking idiots’ need so much therapy.

Alex blinks, and gives a quick, agreeable shrug as she comes up beside her girlfriend.

Sam tips her bottle at Nia, “Fair. May have crossed a line.” she concedes as a gust of wind blows up through her hair, sweeping it across her brow and obscuring her view.

“Shit, or a few lines.” Sam grits through her teeth as she runs her hands back through the tangles. She immediately chokes out a breath as the sharp corner of a box slams into her solar plexus and the barstool being kicked out beneath her shatters. Before Sam realizes she’s in a slow motion free fall, she is on her back in a crater of shattered linoleum, box clutched to her chest and gaping up at very pissed Kara Zor El.

“Here.” Kara snarls, pressing the box into Sam’s chest with a final push, eyes pulsing with heat behind skewed glasses.

All higher brain function shuts down for Lena then, her eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment, and Nia juts out her bottom lip as she cheers her astral-projected self, “Girl, same.”

Back online, Lena reaches out, hands flexing needy, open and shut towards Kara. But before she can grab the fabric of Kara’s taut shirt, straining over those flexed biceps, she is face to face with a disheveled and flushed Kryptonian.

Kara throws a thumb over her shoulder towards a wheezing, supine Sam’s direction, “I’m sorry.” She confesses through her teeth.

Lena licks her lips, and does her best to suppress a dangerously bright smile, “Did you really...” she trails off as a laugh tumbles out of her, and Kara swears it is the only sound she wants to hear for the rest of her life.

“Go to Pound Town?” Kara asks leaning in conspiratorially, and with a little too much confidence, “Why? Would you like to come if I did?”

“Oh shit. That’s a move.” Alex mumbles under her breath.

Heat race under Lena’s skin, like a fever in her blood, and the flush creeps up all the way to the tips of her ears. And no, this is how Lena is sure she dies, by some corny double entendre from Kara that shouldn’t be having the effect on her that it does but absolutely is. So she plays it cool, feverish expression and all by resting a hand on her hip and giving an over exaggerated eye/head roll combo.

“Did you really think that line would work?” she says about an octave too high as she reaches around Kara and grabs her contingency plan. “Sláinte.” And Lena tilts her head back, throat open and burning with tequila. After a moment of reckoning, she brings her head forward and is met with a smug smirk pulling across Kara’s mouth.

“Did it?”

Lena schools her painful expression to something sadly more concerning; the inherent awe that comes with the knowledge that she is hopelessly in love with one (1) alien himbo.

“Unfortunately, yes.” she says in a huff, wrapping her arms around Kara’s neck, and pulling her into a hard kiss.

Their friends and the bar patron’s lets out a collective sigh, and the voices of ‘finally’ and ‘bout fuckin time’ are mumbled in concordance around the bar.

Sam raises a limp hand that Nia takes, helping her to her feet, “What’s the time?” she asks, pulling herself up.

Kelly turns her wrist over, and gives an approving nod, “Barstool in ten.”

Sam presses a hand into her lower back and slowly straightens herself up, rolling her eyes at the public love fest happening beside her, “Ew, gross, but worth it. Gimme my money, Danvers.”

Alex begrudgingly digs into her pocket, and smacks the wad of bills into Sam's outstretched hand, “Why can’t you just do this normal for once?”

Sam waves off the comment as she slips the money into her pocket, and brushes a few stray pieces of floor off of her shoulder, “Because where is the fun in that? It works every time.” 

Lena gently pulls away from the kiss and stares into the clear skies of Kara’s eyes. She adjusts her glasses and turns in their embrace towards Sam, and dips her head, motioning to the box her friend is still holding.

“Looks like someone is getting lucky tonight.” Lena murmurs as Kara’s warm lips move up her neck, nipping and kissing along the underside of jaw.

Sam arches a questioning eyebrow, and turns the box over in her hands. She is met with the plastic, blown up, cartoonish face staring dead-eyed back at her, mouth positioned in a perfect ‘O’

“She kinda looks like you.” Nia observes over Sam’s shoulder.

Kara’s hums in agreement as she walks her fingers around Lena’s back, pulling her close against her chest, “Yeah. So she can go fuc-...”

“Myself, yeah.” Sam cuts in, raising and shaking the package, conceding to Kara, “I deserve that.”

[joyrose-fandomer]

Please, don’t fall for me (Sanders Sides fantasy school AU) Chap 3

Relationships : Future (Prinxiety, Intrological, Mocite, Platonique Moxiety and platonique Analogical)

POV : Virgil

TW : Water, Manipulation

Previous<<

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

Virgil couldn't focus on anything after that.

He kept looking at the pamphlet and the folded paper on his laps. 

The pamphlet showed a picture of a big white building. It looked like a bad copy of Harvard. 

It was named "Pine hills High school and College of art, sport and science" which was long for nothing and boring like literally any school.

But most importantly, it looked pricy. So Virgil looked around the pamphlet but he couldn't find any price anywhere. 

Tss, of course, they wouldn't.

It said on the pamphlet that the school had good infrastructure and good results in every sportive, artistic and scientific field. That it had 100% chance for the student to have a diploma and list several students that became important.

Virgil didn't know any of those names and most importantly, never heard of that school.

  On the other hand, the folded paper was a lot less fancy. There was no picture only a name and a few commentaries.

It didn't look official in any way. In fact, it was very obvious that Remy had written everything.

But it gave a strange feeling, like the ink and paper weren't normal. Like it could disappear at any moment if Virgil stopped looking at it or if anyone else looked at it.

He knew it didn't make much sense, but he could swear that he saw the words glitter from time to time.

"The Argus school" was the name written on the paper. 

"School for young magical creatures to learn how to control their powers in safety."

So, like a school of magic? When did Virgil step into Harry Potter?

  It was so cliché and suspicious, Remy was surely messing with him. 

What if it was all an elaborate prank?

What if it was a kidnapping technic and Virgil was falling straight for it?

Should he call the police?

Would they believe him?

But what if it was not a joke?

It was so unrealistic but it explained so many things...

That day when school ended Virgil didn't directly go home.

He went to the pool.

"Hello, do you have a ticket ?"

The young women at the entrance asked.

Oh. Well, he needed to confirm that too eventually.

The high school boy took a deep breath.

"No, I forgot...sorry"

Her voice was suddenly a lot softer.

"It's ok, I can give you one. It's 7$"

Alright, he won't have to meet her again, he could do it.

He took off his mask and hood

"I'm sorry miss. I forgot to bring money"

She blinked like she was trying to adjusted her eyes after being flashed with a stong light.

"Alright, I will take your name and you can pay later"

"Wait really?" Virgil exclaimed, not expecting the woman to actually let him get away with it so easily.

The woman smiled. "Yes, but don't tell anyone, I'm not supposed to do that. So what's your name ?"

"Virgil Apkallu"

"That's an interesting name could you spell it ?"

Virgil spelled his name like he always did. Before remembering an important fact.

"I don't have my swimsuit!"

She laughed. Virgil couldn't blame her, he really didn't think that through.

"Do you want to go home to pick it up?"

If he got home it would be too late, his father wouldn't let him go back out again.

He looked up at the women. Making eye contact with someone for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"If I go home I don't know if I would be able to come back..."

She froze and thought for a bit before walking away and coming back with her wallet. 

"Here, go to the dispenser and get yourself a swimsuit"

"Wha- but it's your money, I can't"

"It's fine kid, it's just 2$. Now go before we close"

Virgil sighed and bought simple black shorts. He thanked the woman and she let him get in.

He felt guilty. He knew he didn't ask her to do all that and she was the one who insisted. But he couldn't help but feel like he manipulated that woman.

But it's what he was trying to do, didn’t he ?

The pool was empty. It was late and during fall it was too cold to go swimming.

The pool attendants weren't here, probably thinking that no one would come at that hour.

So Virgil had the water for himself.

Time to get it over with.

The good thing with being an anxious mess like Virgil is that you end up collecting techniques to get rid of disillusions.

Often the biggest disillusions were the hardest to get rid of. It's the ones that make the less sense. 

Like thinking everyone you meet want to kill you, or that your parents were secretly robots.

But the good thing is. The bigger they are the easier it is to prove your brain wrong.

If you don't turn into a wolf under the full moon, you're not a werewolf.

If you don't have magic powers you're not a witch.

And if you can't breathe underwater you're not a siren.

A normal human can't survive underwater for more than 5 minutes, a trained diver can stay at best 12 minutes.

Virgil only had to stay underwater until he felt the huge to breathe.

If he could stay underwater for longer than that without needing to go out to breathe then... haha no, it was stupid last time he was just confused because he fell into the pool in the middle of a panic attack. 

He will be out in a few seconds.

He slowly went down the stairs. The water was colder than he remembered.

It was probably reckless to test that alone but at least no-one was here to stop him.

Once he was in, the cold was a lot more bearable. In fact, it was numbing pleasantly.

The only swimmer went around the pool using the border to hold himself. But he didn't really need it, it was mostly the lack of confidence.

Eventually, he let go of the side of the pool and swam to the center of the water.

He felt free. Like floating in space. Swiming was so easy, it was second nature.

Virgil set the timer at 0.

And go !

He let himself sink.

The echoes of the empty room, the lapping of the water, the far-away cars.

It all dissolved into silence.

The golden hue of the sunset reflected all around, slithering in the water like hundreds of glowing vines.

Virgil was still holding his nose under the water but he didn't feel the need to breathe. Actually, he was already breathing. 

He brushed the side of his neck. His skin was taking off but it didn't hurt.

He breathed in.

Water entered the gap in his neck.

He breathed out. 

Water went out of the gap.

Gills.

He never had gills. Since when did he had gills?

He let go of all the air he was holding in a string of bubbles. 

He watched them float away. Reflecting the sunlight, making them shine the away fairy lights would.

Bright and clear.

When he tried to breathe through the nose, the airway seemed blocked and he ended up breathing by his Gilles again.

He was breathing underwater. He could see underwater.

He could see and breathe better than on land.

His hair fell on his face.

He could see his own eyes reflecting in them like a mirror and his eyes reflected his hair the same way.

This was new. Usually, they were both jet black. 

He swam to one of the Hublot around the pool.

His hair reflected the pool around, perfectly merging with the water like they were trying their hardest to disappear. His eyes were hardly any better. They were glossy and blue with gold lights just like the water around.

Usually, his eyes were so dark he could barely see his pupils well now that his eyes were different... He still couldn't. Apparently, his pupils also got this mirror effect.

This one was probably not a new thing. The boy could remember every time someone had the great idea of pointing a flashlight at him only to scream because his pupils were shining like a wild animal.

The confused boy swam around. 

It was so simple, like taking a walk around the park.

So peaceful,

So comfortable,

So pretty,

So safe,

It felt like home.

Virgil didn't know how much time he spent here. He didn't want to look at the timer. 

He didn't want to walk. He didn't want to choke on air. He didn't want to feel the pressure of the world.

This was where he belonged. He was happy.

He didn't want to go.

He looked up. The golden light turned silver.

It was night. He needed to go home.

With a sigh, the half siren swam out. Posing the timer but not looking at it.

Everything was so heavy out there. Virgil dresses up slowly and difficultly. His clothes stuck to him and made moving even harder.

Taking a deap breath of his inhaler and dragging himself away from the pool.

The woman looked surprised that he was still here but she still waved him goodby with a smile.

The cold autumn wind gave him a headache, the boy hid his wet hair in is hood and walked.

By the time he arrived home, his body was freezing.

His mind bearly felt anything.

"Do you have any idea how late it is? 

I was so worried! Where were you ?!"

His father immediately yelled when he opened the door.

Virgil stayed silent. He didn't feel guilty, just, empty.

He walked around mindlessly, working only on muscle memory. His father still yelling behind him but he couldn't hear anything.

When he took off his hood his father went silent and stared at him wearily.

"Virgil, why are you soaked ?"

His son took a deep breath and locked eyes with his parent with a serious expression.

"Dad. Who is my mother ?"

***<>============<>***

Sorry, the story didn’t advence a lot this chapter, I really just wanted to right water again ! (^u^’)

Tag list : @angstysunshine @sander-sides-fics 

@moments-of-selves @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes (I still don’t know if you want me to tag you or not so if you want me to stop just tell me ok ? (^u^))

[timextoxhajima]

Grounded: Level 1

Level 0 | Level 2

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader, angst cause is it a dana fic if there is no angst

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine​​ @licorice526

[O C T O B E R 2 0 1 7]

Now the pain was exquisitely bitter. His shoulders are slumped and he's got those eyebags he has whenever he sleeps one hour every night for a week straight.

And yet, he still manages to spit out that stupid smile when he spots you idling at the entrance of his residence.

"Has BigHit gotten back to you about your second round of audition?"

The sourness in your face overwhelms your nose and eyes, instinct immediately pushing you to run in his direction. Minho quickly slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and behind him, letting you sink your head into his chest as you quietly sob.

"Why are you crying? Even I'm not," Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, you can feel his fingers tapping on your hair.

"That's cause you have a problem with letting your feelings out, you dumb cunt," Your mucus is threatening to slide out and stain his jacket, so you quickly move away and haphazardly wipe it off with the back of your hand. Minho's eyes are tired, and it feels like someone's stabbed your heart with a fork and tried to tear it open.

"Come on, my parents know you're here right? Let's go up and get some food."

Through the small laughters and interesting stories Minho had to share, you can tell by the way his parents look at him eat that they missed him; that they were already proud of him for trying because there was absolutely no way they could've created this specimen of a human by their two hands. Minho had completely personified his entire being into someone that he owns, but right now, he's manifesting that fake, seemingly-emotionless act right before his family and you.

Minho struts into his bedroom, you trailing slowly behind as he trudges his feet. Quietly shutting the door behind you, an interal debate sparks off in your chest. To force Minho to talk or--

The pinch in your heart is particularly challenging to tolerate when you see Minho scoop Doongie up into his arms, sinking to the floor next to his bed when he lets his tears fall. The muscles in your face distort into something torturing to look at in the mirror right next to his bed, the reflection triggering you into more of an emotional mess than he was in. 

Doongie meows, nuzzling her snout into Minho’s hands. The fact that the cat, that usually wouldn’t give two fucks about her owner, was bothering to provide him some attention was threatening to shatter your spirit into a million pieces. You can hear him gulp down the desire to fall apart when he wipes his tears away, and you choose to remain silent, simply resting your head on his shoulder with your arm interlocked with his. 

Gently closing your eyes, his crying gets physically more aggressive when his shoulders start to shake. He remained silent, and yet all you could hear was him cracking open. 

Was it worth picking yourself apart for a dream that is difficult to attain? Why do we subject ourselves to this life - this life of mirrors and camera flashes and headlines that might not speak the truth? You are halfway there, maybe permanently stuck here, and while most people would want that freedom, you choose to subject yourself to those restraints? 

Why?

Why are you so persistent in your dreams and what you love that you put yourself through this intricate torture that does nothing but pulls you apart... and then you’d have to shove your pieces back all together again?

Lee Minho, is it really worth it... breaking my heart so I can watch you travel miles away from me? Is it really worth it... to spend hours and months and years away from me, where I can protect you and tell you it’s okay to cry? Is it really worth it... to sacrifice your own desires for just one thing you want? 

Is this really what you want? 

Is it so hard to realise... that I need you by my side and not on a stage that I’m not on?

His harsh sniffles jolt you out of your inward misery, cuing you to quickly blink back the tears that were alarmingly close to dribbling over your lower lids. 

“I messed up the lyrics.”

Minho chokes himself into a chuckle, and his laughter alone is enough to make to smile to yourself.

“You messed up the lyrics?” Raising your brows out of his sight, you can feel him moving to wipe his face. 

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure Chan would’ve killed you on the spot if he could.”

Minho laughs through an exhale. “He would’ve.”

“So,” A gentle shuffle as Doongie finally shifts her attention away from her owner and to his duffle bag. “What now?”

The boy hums in soft contemplation. “I’m heading back to JYP tomorrow to practise more until he tells me what to do.”

A small pout finds your lips. Is this your impending future too?

“You haven’t told me what happened at your BigHit audition.”

Sitting up, you purse your lips before turning to look at Minho. His eyes are a mixture of red from the crying and dark from the lack of sleep. 

“Should I even bother having this conversation with you since you literally just got back--”

“Yes?!” There is some degree of change in Minho; he doesn’t want you to feel burdened by the need to pity him for being eliminated off the show. “I was a backup dancer for BigHit since I was like, 17. You waltz in at 15, get into the backup crew unit at 16 and get casted?” Minho scoffs, unsatisfied.

“And I can’t even get into JYP.”

You fail to stop the slap that you were landing on his arm.

“See what I mean? I’m not having this conversation with you if you’re going to compare.”

He smiles. 

“Alright, alright. So, seriously though,” He tilts his head forwards so he can meet your eyes. “How did it go? What did they say? Are they calling you back for a second round?”

Taking in a deep breath, your chest puffs out as you lean your head backwards. 

“I just danced for the first audition, and they told me to try and sing something from BTS, so I danced to Not Today while singing it--”

“What? Not Today? While singing it?”

“It was not  a great idea, I’ll tell you that. It was breathy and my volume was inconsistent.”

“Given the amount of Hellish footwork that song has, that’s not a surprise.”

“Right,” You comb your fingers through your hair. “Anyway, they didn’t give me a score or anything. They just thanked me and told me to wait for a call for the results.”

“So... now you’re just waiting?”

You turn to him. “Is there anything else I could do?”

He returns to his original position, back pressed flat against the side of his bedframe and folds his arms. “Well, if they didn’t eliminate you on the spot then I think you have a good chance of being called back for a second round. Companies usually don’t like wasting their time on someone that they don’t find potential in.”

You shrug lifelessly. “I don’t know. I don’t really care... yet, I guess. It’s not a priority. I’m just going because the BigHit assistant manager said I have potential so... I’m just trying to figure out where my potential actually stops.”

“Potential doesn’t stop growing though,” Minho lifts both arms and places both hands behind his neck, elbow touching each other in front of his throat. “Instead of thinking that way, I think you need to start considering if you really want this idol life. Once you’re in it, there’s almost zero chance of you coming back to becoming an ordinary citizen. And besides, word has it that BigHit has plans for a new boy group, right? That makes you, a girl, a new trainee, susceptible to their plans.”

You turn to him in slight surprise and suspicion. “How do you know these kind of things? You sure you don’t train at BigHit?”

Minho laughs wholeheartedly. “Word travels fast in this industry. The idols, managers and CEOs know everything before a single member of the public does.”

Your eyes revert back to his flooring. “I’ll deal with it when the call comes, I guess. I’m like 99% sure they aren’t gonna call me and tell me I got in anyway.”

Minho hums. “We could bet on it.”

His eyes are filled with anticipation – not for himself but for you, and it makes you want to hurl on him because he deserves it so much more than you do.

“Screw off,” Offering a gentle chuckle, you push yourself to your feet. “I’m gonna go home. Call me when you head back to JYP.”

“What for?”

“So I can watch you walk into your death trap of fangirls and paparazzi flashlights.”

“Get your wallet ready, I’m betting fifty.”

“You can ask BigHit for that fifty if I get in.”

Your heart is racing so hard against your chest when you meet those familiar faces again. Those that sit behind that five-meter table with their names printed on silver placards before their hands. The numbers of the digital clock behind them stared down on you like a devil’s eyes emerging from the darkness. 

Among the five judges or audience - or whatever you called them - though, sat Bang Shi Hyuk himself. Gold, round glasses perched on the edge of his nose bridge as it threatened to slip off. One of the panelists was the assistant manager of BTS’ that had handed you the audition card. Another was a choreographer you recognised only because you’ve come to BigHit several times before: he was BigHit’s resident choreographer. The other two were rap and vocal trainers. 

It feels like they were discussing about a price tag to paste on your forehead, then place you on a throne and yell “How much for this one?!”

“y/n?”

The assistant manager’s voice smacks you out of your mid-air sandcastle. Bang Shi Hyuk was leaning over to the choreographer, reading his notes while looking back at his. 

“How are you feeling?”

Bang Shi Hyuk pulls back to his own seat, eyes scanning you above the gold rims of his glasses. The other three panelists have sold their attention to you, the vocal trainer looking like she was struggling to maintain that kindred smile she had on her face, otherwise you might’ve just dropped dead from the anxiety. 

“Um, nervous is an understatement.”

The little smile that curves Bang Shi Hyuk’s lips is miniscule. The atmosphere somehow physically diffuses. 

“Well, you did dance and sing to Not Today in your last audition,” The choreographer speaks up, arranging his notes in a corner and taking a sip of water. Is this it? Have they come to the conclusion that I’m not worth training?

“I-- Well, it’s the only song I know the exact steps and lyrics to.”

“Have more confidence in yourself and you don’t need to worry too much about steps.”

The assistant manager looks over the choreographer sitting next to him and eyes the CEO of the biggest boyband in K-Pop. 

The mirror behind them was only displaying the tiredness that was seeping from your limbs. You’ve never heard of an audition where they allowed the auditionee to look themselves in the mirror, but of course, there was a camera sat right behind Bang Shi Hyuk’s head.

Your palms are sweating, and your knees probably slightly bruised after you performed a bit from GOT7′s Hard Carry, only because Minho had made you learn it with him in your free time. 

The goodbye between you and Minho wasn’t teary or saddening, but it sure as Hell felt like shit when Minho was walking off into such an uncertain future - only for you to receive that phone call for the second audition just minutes after he leaves. 

“What made you do Hard Carry? It’s not an easy song.”

“I... I know the exact choreography but not the lyrics.”

“Would you rather a song that you know the steps to or the lyrics?” The vocal trainer leans over her notes. 

“Um,” I’m a dancer. Of course the steps. “The steps. I’m not over the top with singing... or rapping, for that matter.”

Bang Shi Hyuk finally stops the questioning when he pulls off his glasses and leans back in his seat. 

“We are in the midst of training a group of male trainees for a boy-group debut in 2019, and our previous group is BTS who debuted back in 2013. It’s a big gap. This means that there might be a chance that we’ll only be debuting a girl group - if it even is a girl group - in...” He shrugs his shoulders. “2025? Maybe later?”

“2025?” You blurt out at the mention of the year. 

“If you’re not up for this plausible plan then--”

“Uh,” The assistant manager actually interrupts Bang Shi Hyuk. You’d expect the CEO to be pissed or at least, unhappy, but all he does is blink at the assistant manager and leans forward. 

The assistant manager whispers something to the CEO, leaving you burning with questions. You couldn’t decide if you were more nervous if they turned you away, or if they still remained you the question of waiting for eight long years. 

The low-volume conversation finally fades to a stop when Bang Shi Hyuk pulls away, the assistant manager looking more anxious than before he said anything. 

“I wasn’t much present at all the performances you did back-up for BTS, but Mr Son has informed me that you were pulled out from some 700 auditions and even out of the 20 girls that made it to the dance crew, he only asked you to come for the audition.”

Wait, 700?

“This is the same man who scouted half of BTS, so I trust him when he says you’re someone worth training. But I must know this, are you willing to pull through with this? You’ll have a whole file of contract to read, years of training and even after debuting, you must be aware that there are things you cannot do.”

Of course. Because my best friend is walking straight into this same situation. I’m losing him to this file of contract, will I choose to further the distance by taking one for myself too?

Before you can respond, the assistant manager looks at you with soft eyes. “You don’t have to respond now, but we do need to know if first - you’re interested to become a trainee. You’ll be on probationary training for about two to three years, see how you get along with the other female trainees and only when we have decided to debut a girl group with a confirmed number of members then we will have you sign the group contract.”

“Hold on,” Your tongue is dry. “Does that mean I--”

“You passed the audition. Say ‘yes’ now, and you’ll be a BigHit trainee.”

The force of the revelation feels like someone’s dropped a brick on your head with a post-it on it saying “CONGRATULATIONS!”

“Do I have time to think about this?”

Bang Shi Hyuk already doesn’t look that interested. But the assistant manager nods and offers you a pursed grin. 

“We’ll wait for your answer, so take your time and weigh your options. We don’t want our trainees walking into something they don’t know everything about.”

A deep breath fills your lungs. The words were spoken to you, but why is it that you see Minho’s face in the mirror, because he is what you’re worried about?

[catboymingi]

and the damsel in distress - veninder chap. 2

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff; eventual best friends to lovers

word count: 7.2k

warnings: language, insecurities, past trauma mention, somewhat suicidal thoughts (very briefly, one sentence)

a/n: after ages of exams where i focused on smaller writings i finally am updating... this chapter is a ride but it is the ride i decided to take

yo var det mig / der’ dummet sig? - was it me / that messed up?

when you woke up and unlocked your phone you immediately wished you hadn’t woken up, ever. you had more than a hundred messages from various chats, and while you wished you could just ignore them forever you knew that you’d have to deal with it tomorrow latest, and you’d rather do it without an audience. so you had no choice to reply, opening the private messages first and telling all your friends that you’d reply in the group chat, before you opened that one.

[y/n]: sry for that. forgot my wallet, had no way to get home in time

[y/n]: nothing happened tho

the reply came almost immediately, as if they’d just waited for you to come online.

[saranghoe]: u literally didnt even try 2 call dibs n now ur staying the night?? seems suspicious

[model contract when???]: yeah literally!

[y/n]: as i said, better than sleeping on the street

[model contract when???]: just dont go near them again. ever

[y/n]: fine

[y/n]: deal

you hated the idea, but you knew that if you didn’t agree your life would be a living hell. and that was definitely not something you wanted, knowing how they’d made life hell for other people and knowing that there was no way anyone could protect you from that. so, the next thing you did was click on ‘hyung hate club’, not even bothering to read the messages before leaving the group. you didn’t like this, but it was better this way. as much as you liked the boys, you liked being able to go to uni in peace more, and you knew that would be impossible if you so much as breathed in their direction from now on. you sighed, putting your phone down and laying back onto your bed again, wanting some peace for yourself, but you weren’t granted that. less than a minute after you’d laid down your phone buzzed, once, twice, thrice. knowing that you wouldn’t be able to relax until you knew what was up you sat back up, checking your phone to see messages from an unknown number. curious, you clicked on the notification.

[unknown]: y/n???

[unknown]: im mingi

[unknown]: whats wrong??

you weren’t sure whether to be happy he messaged or scream into your pillow. in some way it was nice he cared, but that also meant it would be harder to avoid the boys. and that meant that, no matter how hard you tried, your friends would have a reason to be upset.

[y/n]: why?

[unknown]: you left the gc?

[unknown]: what happened

[y/n]: nothing dw, im all good

he saw the message but didn’t reply right away, which made you think that maybe he’d accept your reply. but then you saw him typing again, and a message you didn’t expect at all appeared on your screen.

[unknown]: did i mess up

[y/n]: wdym

you genuinely had no idea what he meant, or rather, how he could’ve got the idea that he’d messed up in any way. he’d been nothing but kind to you, there was not a single thing he could possibly have messed up on. but when a new message popped up you knew he was genuinely worrying about it, and you felt bad for not being able to tell him the real reason why you left the group chat, why you had to avoid them.

[unknown]: like did i do something wrong

[y/n]: not at all

[y/n]: its not abt you dw

you hoped he’d leave it be with that, but of course not. he wanted to know what was wrong, he wanted to know why you suddenly didn’t seem to want to talk to him, or any of them for that matter, anymore.

[unknown]: then what is it

and while you were thinking of a good excuse, mingi seemed to have caught on to what exactly the problem was, as was made apparent by his next message.

[unknown]: its your friends isnt it

there was no way you could reply to that decently, so you didn’t, staring at the screen in frustration with your friends and him and mainly yourself. you wanted to say something, you really did, but you had no idea what. tell him you were sorry? tell him to leave you alone? tell him that sometimes life just sucked and you had to deal with it? none of that would’ve been a good reply, and in all honesty you also didn’t want to have to deal with the emotional turmoil it would inevitably bring.

you didn’t notice that you’d spaced out and your phone had locked itself until it buzzed in your hand again, another message from the unknown number you now knew to be mingi. it just read ‘got it’ and you felt awful, scared that you’d hurt or upset one of the only people in forever that had shown genuine care for you. but of course you’d had to mess it up.

//

the next day came and you still felt bad, somewhat fearful as well. your friend group’s chat had returned to the usual topics, but you still weren’t sure how they’d react to you when they saw you again. you were hellbent on acting as usual, hoping that if you acted like nothing happened they would as well, and it was somewhat successful, getting weird stares every now and then, but no more comments than usual. you wouldn’t let yourself relax just yet, but this was a good sign, at least.

but then came lunch. you tried to act casual, not wanting to let on to the fact that you were horrified that one of the boys would shout out for you at any moment. your eyes darted around aimlessly, mainly looking for a certain giant sporting bright red hair, simply because he was easiest to spot out of the group you’d spent saturday night with. when you still hadn’t spotted him when you sat down to eat with your friends your shoulders relaxed, but it had been a mistake to think that they’d forgotten about you.

you hadn’t noticed that yunho was on his way towards you until he was standing right there, having moved surprisingly inconspicuously for someone his height. but there he was, staring down at you with an expression you couldn’t judge. you tried to avoid his eyes, feeling so incredibly guilty for ignoring him when he and his friends had been your saviour when you needed one, but you couldn’t help it. even now you could feel your friends’ angry stares on you, when you hadn’t even acknowledged the boy’s presence.

“y/n”, yunho suddenly spoke up. you couldn’t help but look up at him at that, knowing it was a mistake, but your head moved by itself. and he noticed, a small smile appearing on his face now. he nodded his head as a sign that he wanted to talk to you with a little more privacy, and you knew that if you didn’t go with him he’d try to sort whatever he wanted to sort here, in front of your friends, which would be way worse than leaving with him for maybe two minutes and returning, convincing them that you told him never to come up to you again. so you got up, but before you could actually go to a more private area he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. you hit his back in a desperate attempt to let you down, but deep down you knew that your punches wouldn’t affect him in any way. so you gave up, hanging like a sack of potatoes, feeling everyone’s curious stares on you.

he first let you down at their table, hongjoong scolding him that a less dramatic approach would’ve done the job as well. wooyoung and yeosang were laughing while the others looked at you curiously, and you were still deciding whether or not to kill yunho right there.

that decision was made for you when mingi spoke up.

“you told me you’d see me at lunch.” you couldn’t quite decipher his tone, whether he was angry or disappointed or hurt, but you knew it wasn’t a positive emotion you heard in his voice. you hated that you were the reason for his upset, but you also hated that your decision about how to deal with the dilemma you were in had been made for you, by people that knew nothing about your situation. you weren’t them, you didn’t have a support system, you didn’t have the option to choose who you were friends with, you didn’t have any of the things that were a given for everyone else. you had to take what you got and make do with it, and they’d just made that significantly harder for you.

“i told you i couldn’t”, you replied, your own voice a mixture of sadness and anger. you wanted to be able to, really, but it wasn’t something you could change. and the fact that he’d seen how your friends had reacted to you doing something they didn’t like and still didn’t stop this, maybe even actively encouraged this, made you angry, even though maybe it shouldn’t. he hadn’t had any ill intentions, but that didn’t really matter to you when you knew he wouldn’t be affected at all by whatever happened as a reaction to this. that he - they - had started a battle you’d have to fight.

no one said anything to that and you thought the conversation was over, that they’d realised that you wouldn’t be able to join their friend group or talk to them at all unless necessary, so you turned around, managing to take a single step before someone grabbed your wrist. you turned around again in surprise and saw that it was seonghwa, whom you’d assumed to be kind and soft-spoken, definitely not the kind to do this. but here you were, being kept from leaving by his hand around your wrist. it was mingi who spoke, though.

“they’re not being nice to you. you deserve better.” and you knew, you knew all that, you knew everything he could tell you to convince you that they weren’t the right friends for you, but that didn’t change anything. and you’d had enough hurt, enough mistreatment in your life to want to avoid it at all costs now. if that meant giving up a bit of your happiness but getting to keep your peace of mind that was a price you were more than willing to pay. but the boy looking at you with softness in his eyes didn’t seem to be willing to have you pay that price.

“sit down.” seonghwa had let go of your arm now, moving a little so that you’d fit next to him. it wasn’t an order, more of a suggestion, but you were too tired, too exhausted to potentially risk a discussion you might not be able to win, so you just complied, resting your head in your palms. and because of that the boys at first didn’t even notice that you didn’t have your food, or any of your things, since it didn’t seem like you wanted to eat anyway.

it was san that noticed, already having finished inhaling his meal when you hadn’t even started yours. the surprise at that was what made him realise that there was no meal for you to finish.

“yunho!”, he suddenly yelled out, making everyone’s heads snap up, even yours. “you forgot y/n’s things when you kidnapped her!” at that realisation, panic made its way onto your face. you had no idea what state your things would be in by the time you’d reach them. your phone, your wallet, all your notes were in your bag, and you’d just left it with your friends that without a doubt were plotting how to ruin your life by now. you jolted up and towards the table they’d been sitting at, but when you saw they’d already left your panic only increased. your bag was still there, carelessly kicked underneath the table when you’d been sitting with the others, but you had no idea what the insides would look like. you probably looked like a maniac all but ripping it open, fumbling with the zipper with shaking hands and ransacking your bag to make sure you still had everything you needed, checking your wallet and phone to see just how fucked you were. everything was still in order, though; it seemed like they’d forgotten about your bag, in part thanks to you having kicked it out of sight thoughtlessly. you almost cried at the relief, and mingi, who’d followed you after your sudden exit to make sure you were okay, wasn’t really sure what to do. he kneeled down next to where you were still crouching on the floor, staring at your bag and its content as if it were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and just looked at you, waiting for you to realise he was there as well.

when after a while (was it seconds? minutes? it felt too long for mingi) you still seemed to not have noticed his presence he carefully tapped your leg, making sure his hand was visible before he actually touched you. you seemed so spaced out that he was pretty certain any sudden touch or noise would scare you to no end. but even though he was so careful not to be too sudden your head still shot up with a force that made him fear you’d break your neck; you’d half expected one of your friends to be the one touching you, so your anxious reaction was at least in part caused by that. but when you saw that it was only him you relaxed a little, though your heartbeat still would not return to normal.

“you okay?”, he asked you once it seemed like you wouldn’t drop dead from shock or kill him if he said anything, worry apparent in his voice, and you could understand him, really - this wasn’t a regular reaction to forgetting your bag with your friends. but you didn’t have regular friends either, so it evened out.

“i guess.” you grabbed your bag and got up, wanting nothing more than to get out of that awkward situation, and the tall boy followed suit.

“wanna join us for the rest of lunch?” he expected you to say no. you knew that you should say no. and a look at where you’d sat at the table confirmed that you didn’t even have anything to eat anymore - they’d probably thrown it away as soon as you left. so there was no reason to go, there was no reason to make yourself even more of a target. but maybe that was why you ended up saying yes. you’d already become a target, so now you might as well spend time with them, you didn’t really have anything to lose anymore. and the smile he gave you when you agreed to join them made you think that it’d maybe be worth it, even.

the others looked at you in surprise when you returned to their table, mingi having a triumphant look on his face. they didn’t say anything, though, scared of putting you off and causing another somewhat-freak out like the one earlier. of course, to them it didn’t make sense, they had no idea just what your friends could do. they’d never been their victim, and they’d never been around to see what their victims had to deal with. but you knew. and the thought of it almost sent you into a panic attack, so you let yourself fall onto the bench (a loud ‘thud’ could be heard, so you really hadn’t been gentle with yourself) and put your head on the table, ignoring how greasy it probably was, your focus being on stopping your breath from speeding up before it was too late. you couldn’t see the looks they gave each other, but you could imagine them. you were a mess, a scared, traumatised mess, and that less than 48 hours after first having met them. you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they told you to go sit somewhere else, or got up and left themselves. but they were still there when you lifted your head again, looking at you worriedly, but without judgment.

mingi was the first to speak, having put the pieces together by now.

“they’re that bad?” you knew whom he meant. he’d seen the message, he’d been the one to figure out they didn’t want you to talk to them, he’d seen the way you’d rummaged your bag, so it wasn’t hard for him to figure out what, or rather whom, you were scared of. yet he couldn’t imagine why you were that scared of people supposed to be your friends.

“worse.” you tried to mask your fear with a bitter tone, but it didn’t exactly work. the boys didn’t exactly know how to react to that, trying desperately to come up with a way to lighten the mood.

“you have eight bodyguards now.” you weren’t the only one surprised when it was jongho that spoke up, but the others were quick to agree, telling you that the girls had to get past them first. ‘mainly jongho, to be fair’, as wooyoung elaborated. and while you still weren’t feeling good about it, you were feeling better now, the fearful expression replaced by a smile. san, not wanting to waste that chance, asked you if he could re-add you to ‘hyung hate club’, and you couldn’t resist the puppy eyes he gave you, so you agreed. as soon as he did so mingi got his phone out, resending the message he’d sent when he’d brought you home. ‘pyjama party this weekend n y/ns still coming’. your reply was an emoji rolling its eyes, but the smile hadn’t left your face. then you saved his number, asking the others to send a message with their name so you could know who was who.

“they’ll never shut up”, hongjoong informed you casually as he sent his name, and while you knew he was telling you, indirectly, that from this moment on you would never be able to have a moment of peace and quiet and no notifications you were happy about this fact, because it meant that at least you wouldn’t be lonely.

“i have my ways.” you grinned at him as you said that, then you went to save all the numbers in your phone. doing so brought your attention to the time, and you noticed that it was time to leave for class, your happy expression immediately disappearing as you realised that they wouldn’t be around to protect you during class. And class was the place you couldn’t escape from; you needed the credits, and part of you also didn’t want to have to give up on something that always brought you joy just because you had to fear you wouldn’t be left alone.

“i need to go.” your expression didn’t go unnoticed, and seonghwa and yeosang, who had this period off, told you they’d be right there if something happened, you just had to send a message. they also insisted on bringing you to your class, and while you did feel a little like a child that needs their parents to bring them everywhere because they’re scared by themselves you also really appreciated it. so you took off with your two bodyguards, waving at the others as they left for their own classes.

“it’ll be fine”, yeosang said after a couple hundred metres during which neither of you had said anything, and you looked at him with doubt apparent in your eyes.

“it will”, seonghwa stated, a lot more sure about it than you were. “and if not, you know we’ll be right there.” that only did little to reassure you, but you had no choice either way.

you reached your classroom way too fast, and you could feel your breath speed up as soon as you walked towards the door, hesitating. maybe you should just drop out of uni and become a shepherd in a secluded village somewhere in a strange country in europe. maybe that was a better plan. but the choice was made for you as one of your now ex-friends waved towards you, a cheery expression on her face that would have fooled you, had you not seen that same expression on her face countless times before, knowing that it meant nothing but danger. but it was too late to turn around now, so all you could do was pretend you didn’t know what you were about to face.

“hey!” your tone was at least as fake as her expression as you greeted her back. then you went to your seat, and for the first half of class things actually went okay. you were tense, you were stressed, you were scared, but nothing happened. but then the teacher told you that it was time to do group work now, and things went downhill. you were grouped by how you were seating, which included you, one of the girls, and two classmates you barely ever talked to, whose names you didn’t even know, but whom you had nothing against, at least. but they would soon have something against you.

as you were working, one of them had her laptop out to take notes and prepare a presentation, as was the task. and that gave your ex-friend an idea. it was an expensive laptop, and you, as always, had a cup of water on the table, fairly close to the middle so it wouldn’t be able to drop by itself. it wouldn’t have to drop by itself, though. first, the girl next to you dropped her pen and kicked it over to the other two, pretending to have done so in an attempt to retrieve it and be able to pick it up.

“i’m sorry, i dropped my pen! can you maybe pick it up, i can’t reach it.” an apologetic smile was sent their way, as if to say ‘sorry for the hassle’. both girls opposite you ducked at the same time, trying to see where the pen was and who would be able to pick it up more easily. that was what she’d planned, though; as soon as they were no longer able to see you, she spilled your water. over the laptop that was still on the table. and as if that wasn’t enough, she got up, yelling your name loudly, asking you why you’d done that. everyone was looking at you by now, and the girl whose laptop had been sacrificed quickly tried to dry it off with her sleeve, asking for tissues, trying to save it. no use, it seemed like it had broken right away. and everyone thought it was you. that you’d broken the laptop on purpose.

“she was writing her thesis, y/n! i knew you were jealous, but i didn’t think you’d go that far!” you just stared at the scene around you wide-eyed, not even fully realising that this was real. by now even the teacher had come to look at what exactly was going on, and your lack of self defense was a seemingly obvious sign of you actually being the culprit.

“i think you should leave the class now. and you will have to replace the laptop.” all you could do was stare at who used to be your friend, unable to believe that she would do this to you. you hadn’t even actually done anything, and you’d been friends with these girls for almost a year now, yet she’d had no hesitation to ruin not only your reputation but also you financially. she was fully aware that you were barely scraping by. she was fully aware that you would never be able to replace the laptop. she knew all that. and she still did it, just because you’d dared to talk to someone they’d called dibs on. you couldn’t believe it.

//

you didn’t really remember how you’d left the class, and were surprised to find that you’d remembered to pack all your things back into your bag, that you hadn’t forgotten anything. you’d just left, going who even knew where, dropping on the floor when your legs didn’t want to carry you anymore, and starting to cry. and you stayed there, crying, losing all feeling for how much time had passed. this had been your last class of the day, so you had nowhere to be, and you didn’t want to be anywhere, either. you wanted to vanish. you wanted to die, in all honesty. if it continued like this your only choice was dropping out, basically having wasted the past year and all the work and money you’d put into your studies.

you were so caught up in your crying that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing with message after message, first paying attention to it when someone called you. it was seonghwa, who’d been there to pick you up after class only to see that you weren’t there. you didn’t feel like picking up, so you pressed the red button through your tears. he tried again, with the same result, and first when your phone started buzzing continuously with new messages you took a look at the group chat. now you found out why they were calling you - they’d tried to get you after class, but you weren’t there, and now you’d neither read their messages nor picked up their calls, so they all were quite worried at this point. you felt sorry about that, so you decided to send a message saying ‘sorry for worrying you’, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were fine. it seemed like any sign of you being alive was already a success, though, lots of relieved messages flooding the chat. you hoped that maybe they wouldn’t ask what happened, but of course they did.

[hongjoong]: what happened?

[y/n]: i dont want to talk abt it

the chat was quiet after that, no one really knowing what to say. but, again, mingi sent you a private message.

[mingi]: where are you???

you didn’t want to explain anything and you didn’t want to pretend you were fine, so you just sent him your location, his ‘ill be right there’ coming just a few seconds after you’d sent your message. you were somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to be alone right now, but you also dreaded having to explain what happened. for now, though, you should probably focus on looking a little more like a person and a little less like you’d just spent the past hour crying. even though you had it didn’t have to be obvious like that, so you tried to clean off the streaks of ruined makeup on your cheeks, using your phone as a makeshift mirror. once you were done you tilted your head to see if there was anything you’d missed, but it was okay. it wasn’t good, but it was the best you could do right now. then, you waited.

you’d put in your headphones after roughly two minutes of waiting, way too nervous at every single sound that surrounded you, but that also made you miss mingi shouting your name once he’d arrived, and the sudden appearance of his large frame in your field of vision did surprise you quite some, flinching visibly before you took out your headphones and looked up at him, trying to smile but failing miserably. and he immediately caught on, sitting down next to where you were sitting on the floor and looking at you silently for a moment.

“do you want a hug?” he didn’t know what else to offer, but he wanted to let you know that he was there for you, and you willingly accepted the offer. he wrapped his arms around you then, pulling you a little closer so you could rest your head on his shoulder, and then you continued to sit in silence. it was strangely comforting, having someone there for you even when they had no idea what you were even upset about, offering you their presence and leaving the choice of whether or not you wanted to tell to you. you didn’t want to have to leave this situation, the safety you felt when embraced by mingi, who was much taller than you and who made you feel like, even just by virtue of his height, he could protect you. but you had to, you knew you did, you couldn’t spend all day wherever you were now.

“we should go home.” mingi hummed in response, removing his arms from where they were wrapped around you, and the two of you got up. he looked at you hesitantly - you could tell he wanted to say or ask something, so you cocked your head, encouraging him this way to tell you whatever was on his mind.

“they’re all worried, so i was wondering… i told them i’m going to meet you, but i think they’d feel better if they could see for themselves that you’re in one piece.” you nodded, both as a sign of understanding and to show that it was fine with you to meet them before you went home. he nodded as well, slowly starting to walk and somewhat unsure if you’d actually follow him, but you did.

you walked in silence until you reached the train station, where he bought the ticket for you again. you looked at him, about to protest, but when he told you it was his treat again you just nodded, not having the energy to argue and also glad that you could save the money seeing how very soon you’d need every single won. after that, you were silent again, sitting next to each other with your head on his shoulder, which you’d have been embarrassed and shy about if you weren’t so exhausted. you were exhausted, though, and it took all your energy to not fall asleep on him - but at least you succeeded with that, your eyes still somewhat open when he told you you had to get off at the next stop. you sat up, then, immediately missing the warmth and comfort of him so close to you. the boys made you feel weirdly safe, and you couldn’t tell why it was - maybe it was just the unusual feeling of having friends that cared about you even when you had nothing to offer, but no matter what it was, it was nice.

another thing that was nice was that mingi didn’t make you talk, didn’t even try. he’d talk, but he didn’t mind if you didn’t reply. he’d just resume his story, letting you know that he wasn’t ignoring you but that he didn’t expect anything from you. and with this behaviour you slowly started to feel better, feeling ready to tell what had happened by the point you reached the boys’ place.

“mingi?” it seemed like they’d been waiting for him to come home, shouting his name as soon as he’d closed the door behind you.

“and y/n!”, he replied, entering the living room with you in tow. you were somewhat surprised to find them all already gathered there, but mingi didn’t seem to be. he just plopped down on the couch, patting the space next to him to signal you to sit down as well. so you did, staring at your hands as soon as you’d sat down, unsure how to start. and they were unsure as well, unsure if they should ask you or wait until you started talking by yourself.

“i…”, you started, but then stopped again. this was hard.

“i’m sorry for not taking your calls”, was how you decided on starting. “i just- i couldn’t. everything was so much.” and even though you hadn’t even started actually explaining yet a small sob already escaped from your lips, and you hid your face in shame. you looked up again though when you felt a hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and looked at the boy attached to the hand - mingi. he looked at you with soft, encouraging eyes, and you took a few slow breaths before you started talking again.

“they hate me. in class, one of them spilled water on my classmate’s laptop and broke it, and then she said it was me, that i did it because i was jealous of that classmate’s good grades.” you tried very hard to stay calm while telling, not wanting to break down crying before you even finished explaining why you’d ignored them, why you’d run away from class without telling anyone where you were.

“and everyone believed her because no one saw and she doesn’t have a reason to do it but the way she framed it i do, and now the girl is so angry because she was writing her thesis and i think it’s gone now and also the laptop is broken and i have to replace it and i just… i can’t afford that and i don’t know what to do and- ouch!” mingi’s hand had remained on your knee while you spoke, but the more you elaborated the tighter his grip got, seemingly without him noticing, because when he heard you yelp he immediately took away his hand and apologised profoundly for having hurt you.

“i’m just so fucking angry that she’d do that”, he explained. “you literally haven’t done anything!” and he wasn’t the only angry one, either, all the boys visibly fuming.

“but i can’t do anything about it”, you said, sounding defeated, “but i’m so scared that i’ll be kicked out of the course because i need it for my degree and if i get kicked out due to gross misbehaviour, even when it wasn’t actually me, i’ll lose my scholarship and then i won’t be able to continue studying and i won’t have a degree either and no one will hire me and i’ll end up homeless and in debt and… and…” you were unable to continue, your sobs having completely taken over at this point. you felt pathetic for breaking down like this, but your entire future was on the line just because you’d chosen to pick your friends yourself rather than waiting for approval. it was unfair, and it was horrible, and it reinforced the belief in you that if you didn’t do what others told you to do, the consequences would be horrible.

mingi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest - it seemed like out of the eight boys he was the one who’d taken on the role of your protector now, always taking care of you like this, ever since you first met. the others were there as well, of course, but they were more of a silent support as mingi actually pulled you in, and it was okay that way. it worked that way, his deep voice and careful touch being able to calm you down enough that you were able to breathe somewhat regularly again.

“i want to go home now”, you said once the worst was over. you were still sniffling, but you didn’t care. you wanted to go back to your bed, you wanted to hug the teddy bear that you’d owned since you were born, you wanted the comfort of your own home. being here with them was nice, and it had helped you calm down, but your own home, your own bed, was still something different. and it seemed like they could understand that wish to be in a familiar environment, because they just nodded.

“i’ll bring you.” the way he’d said it it didn’t sound like you had a choice, but it was okay. the tall boy had been there for you all afternoon, and he (and the others too, really) would probably feel better if he knew you were home safe and sound. you hummed in response which he correctly interpreted as your okay, because he got up with you and followed you to the door where you stopped to say goodbye and thank them for listening. then you left, the red-haired giant following suit silently.

the train station wasn’t far away, as you knew by now, and the two of you walked next to each other in silence. once there, he paid for your ticket again without a second thought, and while you did feel guilty about it you also were glad he did so. your head rested on his shoulder again during the train ride, something you didn’t even think about anymore; being close to him felt natural, maybe due to the fact that there’d been a lot of good reasons to be close to him in the roughly three days you’d known each other, maybe because he didn’t seem to register it as something noteworthy either.

you didn’t talk during the trip, the first time either of you said anything being when you told him, once you’d gotten off the train, that you were glad he’d brought you, and tried to say goodbye to him unsuccessfully because he told you he’d walk you home unless you’d report him for stalking if he did so. you shook your head, smiling slightly, and started walking. it was once more him who kept the (so far nonexistent) conversation alive, commenting on anything with a child-like wonder in his voice. it sounded like he’d never seen a tree before, or a street, or a house - everything seemed to surprise and somewhat excite him, and in all honesty you thought it was sweet. he managed to distract until you reached your apartment this way, but he noticed the way you tensed up as you unlocked the door. a day ago he’d have thought your fear was an overreaction, and maybe its intensity was, but after what had happened today he was fairly certain it was justified.

“do you want me to go in first?”, he asked as you wouldn’t even fully open the door, obviously scared of what would expect you. you nodded and moved to the side, giving him the option to slip inside. and a couple seconds later he was in front of you again, opening the door widely and telling you that everything was okay. first then did you relax even slightly, entering with careful steps as if you were expecting to jump out of the shadows and murder you. mingi was right, your apartment was fine, but you weren’t. you hated this, hated that you didn’t even feel safe in your own home, and that there was nothing you could do about that.

mingi soon caught on to the fact that even though everything was fine you didn’t seem relaxed at all, looking around like a rabbit expecting the fox to jump out any moment and devour it. and it was your scared expression that made the words leave his mouth before he could stop himself.

“do you want me to stay the night?” you looked at him surprised, both at his words and at the fact that he was still there - you’d forgotten about him in your worry.

“you don’t have to.” you didn’t want to be even more of a bother. you didn’t want him to get annoyed at your scaredy cat-behaviour.

“but do you want me to?”

“you don’t have anything here.” really, you were just trying to come up with excuses for not directly answering his question, because the answer would have been a ‘yes’. yes, you did want him to stay the night, but you didn’t want him to do so because he felt like he had to.

“that’s fine. it’s just a night, and i only have late classes tomorrow. do you want me to?”

you couldn’t stand to look at him as you nodded, feeling weak and vulnerable and like a burden, but he just said ‘okay’, then got out his phone and started typing.

“i’m just letting them know”, he explained when he saw your questioning expression, and you nodded again. you felt slow, tired, and you just wanted to sleep. and yet once more he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“you should go to bed”, he told you softly, “i’ll be right here.”

“you need sleep too!” it was first then you realised that you couldn’t offer him the luxury of choosing his bed for the night, that you couldn’t even offer him the luxury of having anything bigger than a single-person bed. but he didn’t seem to care, nodding.

“just get ready. i’ll wait.” and because you were way too tired to argue about anything at all, you just grabbed your pyjamas from your bed and left for the bathroom to get changed. you got into your pyjamas and wiped the worst stains off your face with a wet washcloth, but didn’t have the energy for anything else. this would have to do for today.

mingi was waiting for you on the floor when you got back, jacket, shirt and shoes huddled together next to him. maybe usually you’d have been a little flushed at him being shirtless, but in this moment all that mattered was getting into bed and sleeping. so you crawled underneath your blanket, moving as close to the wall as possible so he’d be able to still comfortably fit in next to you. he joined, pulling the blanket to cover both of you, and as soon as he’d done so you told him goodnight, him replying with a ‘goodnight’ of his own. he was fairly certain you’d fall asleep right away by how exhausted you seemed, but he found himself surprised when after roughly half an hour you were still tossing and turning.

“you okay?” he didn’t know if this was normal for you or something to be worried about, but he wanted to be sure you weren’t suffering silently just because you didn’t want to bother him.

“tell me something nice”, was what you replied instead of answering his question.

“what do you want to hear?”

“i don’t care. something happy.”

he thought for a moment before he started telling you about his seventh birthday, trying to remember as many details as possible so he’d have something to tell until you’d fallen asleep. his low, calm voice calmed your anxious heartbeat a little, and you stopped shifting so much. you did, however, scoot closer to him subconsciously, your back soon pressed against his chest as you sought out his comforting presence, his warmth. he wasn’t sure if you’d done it on purpose, so he didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, softly putting his fingertips onto your waist first to wait for your reaction, to see if you’d shy away from his touch. but you did the opposite, grabbing his hand and pressing it close to your chest as if it was a lifeline keeping you from drowning. he just resumed his story, not commenting on it, and you were glad he didn’t. and cuddled up like that his deep, steady voice managed to lull you to sleep.

[sahbibabe]

A Mission For One

A Mission For One

Soulmate AU

Sephiroth/Fem! Reader

You are given the details of your mission. It wasn't your intention to be crippling the last of the previous AVALANCHE's funding, nor was it to face the risk of seeing Hojo ever again.

RENO, JUST LIKE RUFUS had said, showed up the very next day, just shy of seven in the morning. He didn't have Rude with him, which was unusual, and instead had a lowly grunt with him. He had a briefcase in one hand and his weapon in the other, shooting you a grin when you opened the door.

     "Ready to get started?" He asked, pushing past you to set up on one of the tables. He opened the briefcase with a flourish. "Might wanna sit down because I have a lot of stuff to tell you and not a whole lot of time."

       You locked the shop door and sat down across from him, eyeing the grunt who positioned his back to it with a rifle in hand. "Was it necessary to bring the gun inside?"

      "Him? Nah." Reno pulled out a file as thick as your fingers put together and set it aside. "Right, first thing I have to tell you is to hold out your arm."

        You did so obediently. "What for?"

      "This." Reno gave you no warning other than a smirk, and plunged what looked like a five gauge needle into your wrist. He injected a clear substance into you and, before you had time to jerk away, was done. "There. Your Shinra access chip. After the fiasco with keycards and AVALANCHE last year, we decided on these bad boys to secure the system. As long as you're alive, calm, and healthy, you can get anywhere you want to. I think the boss gave you B-Level clearance until you pass your physicals, then will up it to A-Level after that."

       You felt dread settle in the pit of your gut. You had never owned anything as much as D-Level access in your entire life, and that was just to attend a small court session to set up your tea shop and legally sell tea from Shinra suppliers. B-Level was a high jump, and giving you A-Level access after? Those were the same permissions that only Rufus's seconds in command got, only less to Rufus himself.

      "Reno," you asked slowly,"what the hell am I going to be doing that requires A-Level access?"

      "A lot of things," he whistled, thumbing through a plastic card case and pulling out an ID card with your face plastered on it. "Assassination, murder, espionage, sabotage, take your pick. The things we Turks can't do and get away with easily."

       The bad feeling in your stomach told you it was a bit more than that. You let it slide when he handed you the ID, noting the fluorescent finish on it and the expensive plastic it was made of, as well as the giant Shinra logo printed beside your head with a script reading 'VIP: DO NOT ENGAGE' along with your VIP permissions underneath, which extended to free hotel stays, you noticed.

       "What's this?" You asked, watching it shine in the light. "I already have an ID."

      "Yeah, but not one that's special like that." Reno then pulled out a manilla file almost as thick as the one he had brought out before, except this one had giant red confidential stamps all over it and was sealed with Rufus's personal seal. "It can get you anywhere and everywhere, just like the Turks, and more. Flash that thing and anyone will think twice about stopping you. Murder is easy with a card like that."

      "I'd imagine," you said, a little choked. You had, quite literally, just gotten federal permission to commit murder. Freely. In an effort to distract yourself from the fact that you'd just been given a 'free for all' card, you tapped the first file he'd pulled out. "And these?"

      "Paperwork for the doctor who does the exam." Reno shrugged when you gawked at the sheer size of it. "I know. It's a lot. But it only takes an hour. Drug tests and blood tests and all that. Even STD tests."

      You placed it aside in favor of the packet he now held. "I'm guessing those are my mission details?"

      "More like your trial targets," Reno supplied vaguely. "You won't officially start them until next week. You'll have a month to finish all of them. You can read up on them and memorize them until then."

      In Reno's hands laid the lives of the people you were about to take forever. Permanently. And it wasn't even what you were being recruited for; they were tests. That was it.

      He handed it to you and you broke the seal, pulling out one of the targets. A photo had been blown up to visible proportions, blurry and grainy, but you could make out the face well enough, recognized it even: one of AVALANCHE's older benefactors, a man by the name of Michael Dallien.

       He had donated a total of three million gil to the cause shortly after the mako reactor went down, you read, and had been funneling smaller sums to them ever since under the guise of fundraisers. At the bottom, stamped in blue, was the price of his bounty: four million gil, plus a bonus for delivering visceral proof.

       Which meant Rufus wanted his head. Literally.

       "As you can see, you'll get paid more than the three million gil for whoever you kill," Reno explained, pointing to a section near the bottom. "There will be others competing with you, though, but they aren't doing it with the accesses that you have. They work for other corporations wanting to overthrow Shinra. If you get to them first, the other corporations won't be able to nab their resources and bam, you get paid and you move on to the next one."

       The more people you found in the packet, the higher the bounties became, until you came upon a bounty on Rufus Shinra himself, priced right around one million gil.

      "What the hell?" You breathed, showing Reno the picture. "What does this mean?"

      "That leads me to your official assignment." The redhead plucked the paper from your hands and pointed to the list of mercs slated for the job; you weren't on it. "Our little Public Relations guy, Heidegger, put this up a few weeks ago. I doubt he knew we bugged his personal computer, but he's enlisted several attempts on the boss's life in the next couple of months. Now, the Turks aren't invincible, some are bound to slip through the cracks. That's where you will come in."

       "You want me to protect Rufus Shinra," you deadpanned,"because the Turks can't."

       "Hey, it isn't for lack of trying. He has so many enemies it's hard to keep track of. We keep eyes on the outside, you keep eyes on the internals. Simple."

      "You mean people like Heidegger and Scarlet," you supplied, realization dawning on you. "It's not because you can't, it's because you can't do it without everyone knowing who did it."

      Reno winked and pointed a finger at you. "Bingo. I knew you'd put it together. Rude owes me fifty gil."

      "That explains the ID," you sighed, waving the card around flimsily. You tucked everything into a neat pile in front of you. "Anything else?"

      "Yep. I took the liberty of pulling some strings and getting you a female doctor to perform your physical." Reno leaned back and crossed his arms, the grunt shifting nervously behind you. "Figured you wouldn't want Hojo snooping around in your insides again."

       The sudden horror you felt had you speechless. Hojo was supposed to do your physical? Hojo had none of the specifications for that, last you had heard, and that was when he was injecting your eyeballs with some dark fluid. To have him examining you from head to toe, even for the gynecology exam because it had to be on there too, made you want to throw up at the idea.

      "Other than that, though, all you have to do is get your Shinra tech fitted and your uniform. It's all unbranded so no one will be able to trace us if you get caught, and made with synthetic material that also can't be traced. You'll have to check with the boss about your weapons. Can't go to Scarlet." Reno seemed to be checking off some list and nodded to himself. "That's it, I think. Rude will drop by later and give you your rental keys."

      You were still caught up on Hojo doing your physical exam, even after Reno dismissed himself and headed out of the shop. It disgusted you on so many levels that as soon as you tucked your files away into your floorboards and put your ID in your wallet, you went to the bathroom to hurl up your breakfast.

      None of what Hojo did to you was memorable after the initial injection, but you recalled him speaking of something like,"Let Her see through your eyes," but it was muffled behind the wall of pain you felt. You remembered the pinch of an IV, trying to open your eyes and only feeling your eyelids as swollen as golf balls, and feeling nurses walk in and out to switch your dressing gown.

      Hojo would check, occasionally, prying your swollen lids apart and testing the tears and occasional pus that would stream out, ignoring your crying and screaming indignantly. He pressed the swelling, irritated them, scraped samples from your waterline, and then fed tubes into them to drain the pus out. It never ended well, because it would soon grow clogged with that black material he had put in, like a coagulated gummy pile of rot. You never bled, but the sheer amount of tears you produced left you dehydrated and desperate for water.

      You were one hundred percent certain he had also done something to your reproductive system, because after that, your cycles just became nightmares, even more so towards you leaving after he deemed you a failure. You never checked, though, too scared and poor to afford an exam, even when you now had the money and means to do so.

     But now you had to because of the stupid physical exam. Hojo had ruined you in more ways than you could say, and it was no wonder you lied to everyone in your life. You were petrified of trust because you, once upon a time, had trusted him to help you. That had been a mistake.

       Never again.

[sonder-writes]

Day 23: treasure

“Harry! Where’d my bloody treasure chest go?!” Tom yells, after he had finished making a mess of their room from digging everything out of the cupboard.

“Oh, that old thing? I took it to the charity shop, didn’t know you still wanted it,” Harry replies. Tom’s face flushes.

“Harry, I literally kept my soul in there! Why?!” Tom screams, going out to confront Harry. Harry just shrugs, concerned about why Tom has gotten so mad.

“Geez, sorry, I didn’t know you cared about it so much,” Harry takes another bite of his toast, then puts it down and begins looking around for the name of the charity shop he’d brought it to, “by the way, I gave all of the things inside of it to them separately. I didn’t know you had a tiara. It’s kinda cute, honestly.”

“Harry, it’s not a tiara, it’s a diadem. Big difference,” Tom mutters.

Harry thinks about it, “looked like a tiara to me.”

“Well, whatever, I just need it back,” he says, “where did you take it?” Harry tells him and he immediately leaves for the charity shop.

When he arrives, he walks around all of the aisles, looking at all of the antique things, all of the boxes, the clothes, the ornaments, gosh, even the children’s toys. After an hour of searching, he still can’t find any of them, so he goes over to the front desk to ask about it.

“Did you perhaps receive a little treasure chest, a diadem, ah, a locket, a ring, a cup, or maybe even a diary recently?” Tom asks. It has only just hit him that not only did Harry give away his soul, but quite possibly all of his secrets that he kept in his diary. What a brilliant husband he is. No actually, Harry is pretty brilliant, but right now he’s very annoying. At least he didn’t give them Nagini... right?

“I’ll just check,” the lady at the desk calls someone over, and they have a little chat, and then she turns back to Tom, “Alright, we did get some of those the other day, but I think most of them have been sold already. Did you need them for any particular reason?”

Tom considers telling her. If he does, she might be able to tell him who bought them, but then again, he’s only a customer and things like that are confidential. So he gets a better idea, “Oh not really, but can I speak to your manager?”

The lady seems caught off guard, but then she replies smoothly, “of course, I’ll just tell her you’re coming over.”

When Tom is in the manager’s office, he sits down at the visitor’s side of her desk, and puts on his business face.

“Good morning, and what brings you here, Mr...?” begins the manager.

“Mr Riddle,” Tom finishes.

“Right, well I’m the manager, Hermione Granger, and by the looks of you, you don’t look like you’re here for a petty complaint,” says Granger.

“That’s right, Ms Granger. You see, I would like to ask if I could...” he pulls out his wallet, “buy this place.”

“Well, Mr Riddle,” Granger forces a laugh, “that is quite an unexpected request, I have to say. Erm, how much are you willing to pay?”

Tom tries to think of an amount of money that he has, “Well, how about £600,000?” Tom is sure he doesn’t have even that much, but he could just rob a bank and he’d have the money soon enough.

“Erm, yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t really like this job anyway, have it for £10 if you want,” Granger laughs.

“Really? Okay,” Tom hands her a £10 note. She takes it slowly.

“Oh. Right. Well, good luck with the business, see ya!” And she runs out. Tom smiles, and walks back out to where his new employees are. He spots the lady he’d been talking to before, and pulls her aside.

“Now, tell me, who bought those items I asked about before?” Tom asks.

“That’s confidential, sir. Sorry,” says the lady, trying to get back to work.

“I am your manager, I believe I should be able to know,” Tom snaps.

“Please,” the lady laughs, “Hermione Granger is the manager, not you!”

“I just bought this charity shop. I’m the manger,” Tom explains forcefully.

“Oh. Right. Well, I’ll give you list in a second,” the lady says nervously, walking back over to her desk. Tom waits, and then carefully reads the list when it is given to him.

“Thank you very much,” he says, and off he goes to hunt down his soul pieces. First, he looks for his diary, now belonging to a woman named Claire Barlow, and after a bit more research, Tom finds that she lives on Elm Row. Tom immediately departs for the house, and, after taking a moment to just admire the street, knocks on the woman’s door.

After a moment, a lady who must be Claire, opens the door, “uh, hello?”

“Hello, are you Claire Barlow?” Tom asks.

“Yes, I am. Who are you?” Claire asks suspiciously, an eyebrow raised.

“My name is Tom Riddle. I believe you-” but Claire cuts him off.

“Wait a second—Riddle? Is this your diary?” she holds up Tom’s diary, with his name printed on the front.

“Yes, that’s mine. May I have it back?”

“Um, no? I bought it because I thought I could do some great writing about this. I mean, you really poured your soul into this,” Claire smiles at the pages, and Tom looks at her, irritated.

“Quite literally, actually. But anyway, I really need that back now, thanks,” Tom says impatiently, holding out his hand to get it back.

“No! It’s mine! I bought it!” Claire yells.

“Yes, well that’s my private musings in there,” Tom utters.

“Then why did you send it to a charity shop?” Claire says mockingly.

“I didn’t, my husband did. Now give it back!” Tom grabs onto the book, pulling, but Claire is pulling back. They both pull on the diary so hard that any normal book would have split in two, but it doesn’t, because it has a soul inside of it.

“£10 for it? It’s the same price as a charity shop, then,” Tom grunts, pulling harder and harder on the book.

“No way! I’m not selling it!” breaths Claire, tugging at it even more.

“I won’t murder you if you give it back,” Tom stipulates.

“What the hell?!” Claire loosens her grip and Tom yanks it out of her hand before running off, back to his car.

“Thanks!” he calls, and drives off, leaving Claire to stand there, mouth open, looking bewildered.

The next item Tom goes to pick up is his diadem. Someone named Bill Adley owns it, and Tom swiftly drives over. He doesn’t want to go through all of the fuss he had to last time, so luckily he sees the diadem through an open window, and he stealthily creeps through, grabs it, and runs back to his car. Two down, three to go. Tom doesn’t really care about the treasure chest, it doesn’t have a piece of him inside it, so he doesn’t bother finding its whereabouts. Next on the list is the locket. Bought by a man named Samuel White. When Tom arrives, he can’t find any open windows, nor can he even see it, so he has to knock again.

“Hello, I’m Tom Riddle, and I want my locket back,” Tom explains quickly.

“What locket?” Samuel asks, confused about why some random person is at his doorstep demanding he returns ‘their’ things.

“You know, the one you bought from the charity shop,” Tom says.

“Oh, that one! Yeah, it kinda got stolen,” Samuel explains with a shrug.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Tom exclaims, “who stole it?”

“I dunno, don’t ask me- oh, there he is,” Samuel points to a man just leaning on a lamppost down the street. Tom approaches him.

“Give me back my locket,” Tom demands.

“Can’t, sorry, it got taken off me,” says the thief. Tom rolls his eyes.

“By who?” asks Tom.

“Some lady called Dolly Umbrella or somethin’” he says.

“Are you sure?” Tom sighs.

“Yeah. Why, was it worth somethin’?” the man asks eagerly.

“Only my soul,” says Tom casually.

“Oh, so not much then, eh?” the man visibly deflates. Tom glares at him.

“Do shut up,” he growls, mentally adding him to his ‘kill’ list.

Tom looks for people with names similar to ‘Dolly Umbrella’, until he finally finds one living in London, and drives to her house.

“I’m Tom Riddle and you have my locket. Give it back,” Says Tom. He had found the lady just outside the house.

“No way,” she says.

“Yes way,” says Tom, watching the locket around her neck. Tom prepares, and then in one quick, swift movement, he snaps the locket off the woman’s neck, and runs for it, leaving yet another flabbergasted woman.

Next on the agenda is Tom’s ring, now belonging to person named Sam Becker who lives on Bywater Street.

As Tom walks down the road towards Sam’s house, he accidentally mutters out loud, “this... is... very colourful...” as he looks at the pastel-coloured houses. He arrives at Sam’s house, and notices them kneeling in front of a man, holding up a small box with Tom’s ring inside.

“Will you marry me?” Alex asks softly.

“Yes, yes of course!” the man cries, slipping on the ring. Tom marches over and takes the ring off him.

“Congrats, but this is my ring,” and he marches off again.

Lastly, the cup. Turns out some fancy restaurant was looking for antique cups, and so they’d bought Tom’s. He walks inside and orders some food after his long day. It’s a very fancy restaurant, but Tom isn’t planning on staying long, so he just orders some chips and, pointing to his cup on the shelf, asks for water in “that cup”.

Confused, the waitress passes Tom his order, and he quickly eats his chips, finishes all of the water in his cup, pays, and leaves with the cup.

Success at last!

“Harry, I got them all back,” Tom says happily, displaying his soul pieces, “Oh yeah, and I bought the charity shop.”

“You what now?” Harry gapes.

[galahadwilder]

Memories

For the first time, Adrien thinks he might be grateful that the Miraculous Cure doesn’t work on him like it’s supposed to. He’s been left with scars all over his body in places no one ever sees—the price of what he does—but today he’s been left with something even more precious.

He can almost remember what happened. And the almost is killing him.

What’s worse: he can’t remember any other time he’s been that happy.

He stares at the photograph, sees the way her lips fit his, their fingers intertwined, and knows it’s not enough. He wants to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, but something’s wrong—it’s not her he wants, there’s something missing—

“Uh, Adrien,” Plagg says. “This isn’t supposed to be in your wallet.”

He turns, and Plagg is holding a student ID card. Not his student ID card. Marinette’s.

Adrien’s eyes narrow. “When did I—” he begins, then suddenly realizes that he was with Ladybug all day. And he knows she was detransformed in front of him, and him in front of her. And it wasn’t just falling all over again. It was... feeling right. Like the missing half of a whole.

He grabs the trash can and vomits, emptying his stomach. When he comes up, he’s crying. “I remember,” he gasps. “I remember.”

He remembers being in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And he remembers her being in love with him.

***

Marinette can’t stop looking at the picture. The expression on her face is soft, loving, everything she’s ever dreamed and everything she ever thought she felt for Adrien, and she knows that Chat is the one who put it there and can’t for the life of her remember why. She wishes she had something to go on, anything, but it’s a blank. No matter how many times she casts her mind back.

The ring of her phone breaks her out of her reverie, and she panics when she sees it’s Adrien. Why is he calling her this late? Why is he calling her at all?

She picks up the phone and hears him crying.

“Adrien?” she ventures. “Are you all right?”

“You have... p-p-pictures of me,” he says. “On your—your—your phone.”

Her throat seizes. How does he know about that? How did he find out? She’s been so careful—

“Marinette—” he whimpers. “I—I—I—”

“Adrien?” she whispers. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t remember,” he sobs. “I—today was—was—I’ve never—”

“Adri—”

“Please, Marinette, the pictures, what—what do they mean?”

She’s crying now, too, and there’s nothing she can say, no lie that comes to her tongue, her worst nightmare—Adrien knows, he found out, and now not only is he rejecting her, he’s outright in pain because of it, and there’s nothing she can do to help him, nothing she can do to escape—

“Marinette,” he says. “Are you—are you in love with me?”

“...yes,” she breathes, because what else is there to say?

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Wait right there,” he says. “I’ll be at your balcony in ten minutes.”

***

He’s knocking in six.

Marinette is hugging her knees to her chest, trying not to cry as Tikki pats her face, whispering soft reassurances. She barely has time to wonder how he got up onto her balcony before there’s a flash of green light, and Adrien Agreste tumbles into her bedroom with tear streaks down his face, grabs her chin, and slams his lips into hers.

For a moment her heart stops as she wonders at the impossibility of the moment, the boy she’s obsessed with literally falling out of the sky to—oh. She’s dreaming.

He pulls back with a gasp, shaking, and she marvels at the detail her subconscious has created, all the way down to the feathery hairs on his skin, the gold flecks in his eyes. It feels so real, and she doesn’t want to wake, doesn’t want to give it up.

“Today—” the dream Adrien gasps, trying to speakbur clearly not ready. Her wraps his arms around her head and presses their foreheads together. “Today was the best day of my life,” he murmurs. “And I nearly lost it forever.” Tears begin to run down his cheeks, melting onto hers. “I nearly lost you forever.”

She feels the wetness on her face. Really detailed. She can’t remember the last time she’s had a dream in this much HD.

“Are you going to keep yapping all mushy, or are you going to tell her?” says a very familiar voice, and when Marinette looks over—

“PLAGG?” she shrieks, throwing herself backward and slamming her back against her bedroom wall. She glances back at Adrien, sees the annoyance in his face at being interrupted, and suddenly what he said on the phone strikes her—

She doesn’t remember. But somehow he does.

“Adrien?” she says, her voice wavering, still half-convinced it’s a dream. “What... what’s happening?”

“When we woke up,” he says, “we assumed—we... it was like two puzzle pieces. We knew we were together. Nothing else made sense.” He meets her eyes, fresh tears brimming beneath his eyelids. “I remember loving you,” he whispers.

She bites down on her knuckles to keep from screaming.

“I loved you because it was the only thing that made sense to me,” he says. “If I could remember nothing else about my life I knew at least that much.” He wipes his cheeks. “I can’t—I’ve never been that happy,” he says. “Not since...”

Her hands have gone white. Her face probably has too. She can’t breathe, she can’t swallow, she can barely even think, and all that comes to mind is—

“I could never stop now,” he says. “Even if you weren’t Ladybug.”

There’s a moment where she wonders where the whine is coming from, before she realizes that her fist is not doing its job—she’s still screaming. Muffled.

“Please,” he says. “I don’t—I know you don’t remember. But please...” He rushes forward and snatches her free hand between his own. “Don’t take it back.”

She’s surging forward, kissing him, her own tears mingling with his own. “Never,” she whispers, and though she still recalls nothing, suddenly she understands Ladybug’s face in that picture. “I love you, Chaton, do you hear me?”

He nods with a whimper.

“I love you,” she whispers again. “Memories or no.”

He smiles, his eyes still closed, still brimming.

“Please,” she says. “I want to know.”

She sees the tension drop from his shoulders.

He breathes in, steadies himself, and grins. “We fell out of the vents at one dot each...”

[bungou-stray-dingus]

Musical Headcanon

Song : Blood // Water - Grandson

Character Pairing : Atsushi x Reader

Warning : angst; descriptions of blood; murder;

(I got home from work and wrote this when I was exhausted but I had been thinking of writing this for a while, so enjoy my sloppy, sleepy writing ❤️)

He pulled the photo out of his wallet, it was a candid shot that made him smile whenever he looked at it. His thumb brushed over the three smiling faces, and he couldn’t help but smile back. You were kneeling in the sandbox, next to your son and your daughter, Hideki, who was five years old, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the camera, and Hiroko, who was his pride and joy, his three year old baby girl. The picture had caught her as she was throwing sand up in the air, the biggest smile on her face.

Atsushi looked up from the picture as Tanizaki and Kenji ran into the office, out of breath, looking over to Atsushi. “What?” He stood up from his chair. What could have them looking like this, panic was written all over their faces.

“It’s Y/N and the kids. They were in an accident.” Tanizaki said, and Atsushi felt like his legs were going to give out. He gripped onto his desk to keep from falling.

He ran, ran as fast as he could, taking back alleys in his tiger form to get to the scene. He felt the wind whipping through his fur, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he wouldn’t stop until he got there.

When he finally did he wished he could unsee it. The cargo van crashed into the drivers side of your car, it was still there, the doors on the passenger side were taken off to remove you and the children from the car, but he didn’t see you or the kids anywhere.

“Where are they?” Atsushi ran to the cops who were taking pictures of the wreck. “Who was driving the van?”

“Sir we need you to stay back.” The cop said, trying to push him out of the way. He was trembling, no, he couldn’t go off right now.

“You don’t understand. That’s my family. Those were my kids. Where are they?” He shouted, his voices breaking at the end.

The cop sighed, shaking his head as he looked at Atsushi. “They were taken to the hospital, but sir...” The cop called after him, but Atsushi was already running.

Hideki had been sitting behind you in the car, he was in critical condition, as were you. Hiroko was on the passenger side, but the force that the van had hit the car had caused whiplash, but she was awake.

“Dada.” She said as Atsushi walked into the room, it was painted with butterflies, flowers, and pictures of smiley faces were taped to the walls. He ran to her bedside, dropping to his knees on the floor next to her.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, and her bottom lip jutted out, shaking as she remembered what had happened.

She pointed to her neck, “Ouch.” She said, and she sniffled quietly. “Momma? Deki?” She questioned, and Atsushi sighed, running his hand through her hair, trying to soothe her.

“They’re okay. When you’re all better, I’m gonna take you, momma, and Hideki out for ice cream.” He promised, and he felt like he would cry seeing her smile.

“Otay Dada.” Then she focused her attention to the television that was hanging in the corner of the room, playing bright and happy cartoons.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, kissing her forehead before he left the room.

You and Hideki were in intensive care, he visited his son first. He was unconscious, he had an oxygen mask over his mouth, cuts and bruises on his face. Atsushi crumbled to the floor next to his bed. The heart monitor was steady and quick, reassuring Atsushi slightly. “You’ll be alright. You’re strong.” He murmured to his son, brushing his sandy blonde hair out of his face.

He walked down the hallway, finally getting to your room. He wished that they would have put Hiroko, Hideki, and you in the same room, he felt awful leaving his children, but he couldn’t just not visit your room.

When he walked in a nurse was checking you over, a clipboard in her hand, she was scrawling something on the paper. “I’m sorry.” Atsushi mumbled, standing in the doorway.

“It’s okay.” The nurse said, giving Atsushi a warm smile as he walked further into the room. You had a neck brace on, and your face had cuts and bruises much like Hideki, but you were awake, and he saw your eyes light up when you saw him.

“Atsushi.” You whispered his name and he sighed with relief when he heard your voice.

“What happened?” He asked, wiping your tears as they fell, listening intently as you told him everything.

“It was a red light, and the van, it came out of nowhere. It was going so fast, I didn’t know what was happening, then it hit us. The kids, are the kids okay? Where’s Hideki? Where’s Hiroko?” He eased you back down as you tried to sit up, he didn’t want you to hurt yourself.

“Hiroko is fine, I just seen her.” He said, and you smiled slightly.

“What about Hideki?” You asked, knowing that he was on the side that was hit full force. Atsushi swallowed the lump in his throat, his son, your son, who was the light of his life, who was a shell of himself at this point, how could he tell you?

“He’s alright.” He lied, and the sigh of relief that came from your mouth made him feel awful.

“Oh thank goodness. Tell them both that I love them, please.” You smiled, and he nodded, leaning over to kiss your lips.

“I’ll tell them.” He murmured, his lips still against yours. He kissed you once more before turning to leave.

“Oh... Atsushi.... did they get the person?” You asked, and he turned around to look at you, confused about your question. What did you mean, get the person? “They ran...” You mumbled, and Atsushi saw red.

“They’ll get them.” And by they, he meant he would. Whoever did this, they would deal with him, one on one, face to face.

We’ll never get free

Lamb to the slaughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

The price of your greed

Is your son and your daughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

He worked for weeks with the ADA, it was practically a witch hunt trying to find the person who caused this. He didn’t care that you and the kids were already home, someone was going to pay for it, and he would be sure that they did.

“Atsushi, it’s over.” Kunikida had told him one night as Atsushi sat at his desk, the picture of you and the children was his reason to keep going, to keep looking for clues that would help him figure out who did it.

“It’s not over. Not until I say so.” Atsushi said flipping through the manilla folder full of pictures and the report.

Hideki was traumatized, he didn’t like being in the car anymore, he barely ever went outside. He didn’t smile like he used to, and he woke up many nights, screaming and crying. Hiroko was luckily young enough to not have it affect her so badly, but she was adamant about not getting in a car. “No ouchies.” She’d say, and how could he blame her? You and Hideki had scars from the cuts you received when the windows shattered, and they were a constant reminder of what had happened.

“They won’t get away with it.” Atsushi mumbled, slamming the folder shut and pushing away from the desk.

Beg me for mercy

Admit you were toxic

You poisoned me just for

Another dollar in your pocket

Now I am the violence

I am the sickness

Won't accept your silence

Beg me for forgiveness

The man had finally been tracked down, he was a hit man for the port mafia. Atsushi had him cornered in an abandoned warehouse, the man was covered in blood, barely breathing, but Atsushi would keep him alive, make him suffer a little longer.

“Why did you do it?” Atsushi growled, taking another step toward the man.

“They said they’d pay me, that you’d give up, and I would get paid.” The mans words were jumbled, he had his hands held up in front of him, thinking that it would protect him.

“What do you mean, that I’d give up?”

“If... If they died, you wouldn’t have a reason. You’d let them take you.” The mans words were coming out so fast, he was cowering against a stack of dusty boxes as Atsushi took the last steps between him and the man.

“You were trying to kill my family? For money?” Atsushi asked, he was stoic, his voice flat. It was almost as terrifying as his anger.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” The man said, he said it over and over, but Atsushi wasn’t listening. All he heard was the blood rushing through his body, he heard his heart beating in his ears, His vision was gone, all he saw was red. This man was better off dead, for what he did to his family, he’s going to wish he was dead.

The change was quick, standing on two feet one second, then the next he was in his tiger form, mauling the man completely. He could hear the mans bones breaking beneath his paws, the flesh tearing as his claws ripped through his skin. The screams of agony, Atsushi wouldn’t kill him quickly, he would pay for what he did, he would make this last.

By the time he was done, there was nothing left of the man except his clothes and tiny chunks of human flesh that were torn off. Everything was still red, except this time it wasn’t from Atshushi’s rage, no, he had done damage, and the pool of blood from the man was starting to run, creating a trail that went out of the warehouse, dripping into the Yokohama port. As he looked at the remains of the man, he didn’t feel much of anything. He had gotten his revenge, he had made the man suffer, he had quite literally ripped him to shreds.

He walked slowly back to your shared apartment, it was close to the children’s bedtimes, he hoped he would make it home before they were tucked into bed.

Walking through the door, he saw you sitting on the floor, running a brush through Hiroko’s blonde hair. Your eyes shot up, taking in his blood stained clothes, dropping the brush to the floor.

“Atsushi?” You were up on your feet in a matter of seconds, running over to where he stood at the door.

“Dada ouchie?” Hiroko questioned, peering around you to look at Atsushi.

“Go... uh... tell Hideki that momma said to read you a book, okay?” You said, looking down at her, giving her a pat on the back before she ran off toward her brothers room.

“Where were you?” Your whisper between clenched teeth shocked him.

“I found him, the man who hurt you.” He said, and he didn’t know what to expect, what your reaction would be.

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re crazy. What if you would have gotten hurt? We made it, but what if you didn’t?” Your voice was low, but he heard the hurt in your voice as your mind filled with the thought of him not coming home, finding out from someone at the agency that he hadn’t made it, that he had put his life on the line just to get back at the person who had almost taken you and the kids.

“But I did, and no one will ever hurt you, or the children, not anymore.” He pressed just lips to your forehead, he felt all of your tension ease.

“Go clean up so you can help me tuck the kids in.” You said, and he finally realized that he was covered in dirt, grime and blood.

Once he was done showering he walked into the bedroom that Hideki and Hiroko shared. You were sitting on Hirokos bed, and the smiles that greeted him as he walked in, those were the smiles that made his life worth living.

“Alright, who’s ready for bed?” Atsushi said, sitting on the edge of Hidekis bed. His world was complete now, his life had meaning. He could see the world in his children’s eyes, in your eyes, because the three of you were his world, and if he were to lose any of you, he would have nothing, his world would be gone.

As he tucked the kids in, kissing their forehead softly, making sure not to wake them, he knew he would do it again. If anyone were to hurt you or the children, he would find them and make them suffer the same fate as the last man.

He wasn’t a bad man, not at all. He didn’t like hurting people, not in the slightest. But when it came down to this, if he were put in the same situation, he’d do it again without hesitation.

[zackfiar-a]

FRIENDSHIP ENDED WITH SHINRA NOW AVALANCHE IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND

it took me 10 hours to write all this. i did change up canon quite a bit, but it’s generally the same in some places. i dont blame u guys if u want to skim it LOL 

i rewrote zacks canon from when he joined soldier then a little bit after the Infamous Shinra Showdown PLEASE read this !!!!

i will be applying THIS canon to my portrayal for now on esp the part where he lives but knowing my dumbass, ill be forgetting pieces of canon information i meant to add before ill be adding this to his about shortly once i wake up with a better thought process

if u have any questions pls feel free to ask !!!

being a naive kid at 13 and hearing the glorifying the heroic stories of shinra and SOLDIER, zack makes leave for midgar while writing a note to his parents not to worry about him, he’s aiming for greater things; far more than what gongaga can give him. his dream is to be the wrong idea of what being a hero means, which is wanting to be loved by many and being admired simply for the fame. sephiroth could do it, so why couldn’t he? anything is better than the boring life that gongaga gave him. 

at 15, he makes it into SOLDIER as a 3rd class with the sheer force of determination and the passion of not giving up, which is what his higher ups find lacking in the military chain. being young and impressionable, shinra puts into their head of the glory they give. SOLDIER and the military is what the people look up to for protection while some think of SOLDIER as just dogs. this doesn’t deter zack, genuinely thinking that shinra is doing well for midgar. during this time he gets injected with a dose of mako, which is what they give all members of SOLDIER. this enhances their abilities and strength at the cost of body degradation and the risk of dying earlier than everyone else. zack questions this: giving up literal life for power? well, shinra wouldn’t lie to him! right? if this is price of being a hero for the people, then it has to be worth it while completely clueless of the manipulation of propaganda and ideology that shinra has shoved in his face and forced to intake.

when he turns 16, he’s promoted to SOLDIER 2nd class and befriends kunsel, who helps him give more of the inside scoop of shinra. he’s one of the first real friends zack has made, even exchanging e-mails to communicate outside of missions and SOLDIER. all the while, he is put under the tutelage of angeal. he can sense the hesitance in his mentor for training an actual kid while zack thinks being in SOLDIER is all fun and games. zack hasn’t even seen the horror of the underbelly of the beast, only fighting the surface of the war and just blindly following orders (anyone who dares stand against shinra is a bad guy and aligns themselves with wutai). fortunately, zack doesn’t fully believe that. regardless, angeal teaches him what it means to be SOLDIER, something along the lines of having SOLDIER honor. he doesn’t get what angeal means by that with furrowed brows as he continues to drill that into zacks mind, ontop of zack admittance of the reason why he joined SOLDIER in the first place aka becoming a hero for shinra and the people of midgar. angeal doesn’t even try to alter that dream knowing very well that’s not something he should be aiming for, deciding to let zack figure it out for himself.

if you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams and honor. how many times zack has heard that, he would be a rich man. eventually he takes it to heart, looking up to angeal because of how wise and strong he is.

when he’s 17, angeal nominates for him to be a 1st class while being sent out to a mission in wutai. lazard says this will stop the war, but in actuality it’s used as a false sense of justice of using SOLDIER to set up another reactor in its place. zack is unaware of this, thinking of serving as justice against wutai, using this as a place and opportunity to prove himself. in the end, lazard uses zack’s tenacity and naive enthusiasm to show he could prove himself to overtake fort tamblin. ontop of that, while navigating lazard to safety, angeal is gone and is approached by sephiroth that angeal has possibly betrayed and abandoned SOLDIER. 

no! angeal wouldn’t do that! that’s not the angeal i know! he tries to tell himself that. it’s now where he begins to doubt in shinra and question their motives. he’s so enraptured at the loss of his mentor, he’s stuck inside of his mind on why angeal would leave? he has honor, right? it’s not honorable to leave that what you’re loyal to. having infatuation and admiration for sephiroth, he quickly loses the shine. maybe it’s disappointment, maybe it’s the loss of his mentor. shinra had glorified the 1st class members on all forms of media, but in reality, they weren’t all that special. he takes this time to talking about the SOLDIERS (some that don’t really care for him), about shinra and why they’ve joined it while trying to see if anyone knows anything about behind the scenes. he confides in kunsel, who does give some information on former 1st class genesis and all the 3rd and 2nd classes he took with him.

going with tseng to banora, he immediately feels a sense of dread. it’s strangely quiet, especially when when he comes across angeal’s mother. while he explains to her he doesn’t know where he is, he is determined to bring him back no matter what, not knowing the meaning of his own words. finding out that genesis buried his adopted parents, tseng and zack make their way to the apple factory on the outskirts of town. tseng tells him that sephiroth was originally assigned to this mission but pushed this on zack, for selfish reasons, he thinks. he doesn’t know whether to be angry or relieved because he feels like he can convince angeal to return to shinra but angry because how cowardly can you be? when he finds out that the planes are going to bomb banora, he rushes to try and help gillian escape only to think that angeal had killed her. he feels enraged, punching him, yelling at him about honor and the fact that was his own mother. the respect for him was rapidly being lost, feeling immensely disappointed when angeal leaves without explaining himself. he comes to greatly hate genesis and seriously distrust shinra.

coming back to hq, he is promoted to SOLDIER 1st class. lazard thinks zack would be happy about his promotion, but is only met with a sad face. i don’t deserve to be SOLDIER 1st class. i don’t want it. which, this is what he wanted in the beginning, but with everything that’s happened, he feels like can’t. being unable to convince angeal, the loss of a village and the death of gillian, he feels like he’s going backward from his goal of being a hero. it doesn’t help that he’s a 1st class by default from the lack of leadership. lazard doesnt listen and hearing that genesis copies have attacked midgar. doing so, he meets cissnei. finding out that she can handle herself, he immediately hits on her but is shortly sent on a mission with sephiroth to sector 5 reactor. they look for hollander, instead they find papers for project g. seeming that sephiroth is interested in the details of the experiments, zack is appalled that genesis is a result of a failed experiment and the fact that hollander experimenting on others. is this why he took a bunch of 3rd and 2nd class SOLDIERS with him? to use them to help himself?

finally finding hollander and genesis, he chases hollander through the mako reactor to eventually come across angeal. there’s a momentary relief of seeing him again, however is quickly flooded by reddening anger. angeal tells him, because he is also a monster, he only dreams of 2 things: world domination and revenge. zack is thrown aback at the declaration, resisting the temptation to punch him again. you’re not a monster. monsters don’t have honor. they’re scared. they’re selfish, so they fight and punish the weak. you’re not like that, angeal! and then he remembers what cissnei said about wings that symbolize freedom. angels aren’t monsters. angeal after gets into a fighting position and demands that zack defend himself. hurt at the notion that he would attack him, he’s momentarily stunned. before he can get into a fighting stance or defend himself from the blow, he falls below into sector 5.

he wakes up in a church with aerith hovering over him, briefly thinking it’s his mother when he’s convinced that she’s an angel that has come to greet him in heaven. there’s a funny feeling of meeting her, but he brushes it aside and asks her for one date as a thank you for saving him. he notices the flowers, suggesting that she should sell them to make midgar happy with the motto midgar full of flowers, wallet full of money. on a little detour, zack and aerith chat while she explains she’s afraid of the sky and SOLDIER. they fight and they like it, she explains. however, zack explains that he’s a part of SOLDIER and maybe that it was a mistake that he joined in the first place. not all of them enjoy fighting for the fun of it. that some of them joined because of a childhood fantasy and it’s not at all what it’s cracked up to be. SOLDIERS motives and goals were vastly different from his own and he doesn’t know if he wants to continue to align himself with shinra. he apologies that he shouldn’t have put that all on her since they just met. though he reassures her that since his eyes are the color of the sky, there’s nothing to be scared of. he decides to take her out to see the real sky one, to reassure her that it won’t swallow her. his stay is cut short when he’s called that genesis has attacked midgar and that he should hurry back.

when aerith takes him back to the sector 5 gate, zack decides to buy aerith a pink bow as a gift for their one - day anniversary of meeting. before he leaves, he helps a guy name the bar that would later be named 7th heaven. 

he makes it back to shinra hq and is ordered to go protect hojo, for hollander is probably using this as a way to kill him. finding hojo, he seems less than troubled and more annoyed about hollander. he says that SOLDIER should do their jobs as brutes and do less thinking to protect geniuses like him, which angers zack a little bit. he never really did trust him, seeming to enjoy it too much when hojo injected him mako upon first entering SOLDIER. people aren’t made to throw their lives away for someone who seems them as less than human and shows no compassion. regardless, he does his job, fighting the bahamut fury. he swore he saw angeal during the fight; genesis is gone. 

months later, he’s sent to modeoheim with a couple of shinra infantryman and tseng. on the way there, the helicopter crashes and he meets cloud while the infantryman can’t quite keep up. he learns that cloud is from nibelheim and they instantly bond as being “country boys”. eventually they find a mako excavation facility, which zack takes the initiative to infiltrate while tseng and the others continue to modeoheim. he finds a bickering genesis and hollander, which he immediately aims to fight and kill him. even though he has no personal connection to genesis, he knows that he was close friends with angeal and sephiroth, and he feels like it’s his duty to finally end him. albeit hesitant, he charges forward and wins the fight with genesis while he continues to run after hollander. in the bathhouse, he finds tseng and cloud tired and beaten as they had fought angeal. they warn him to be careful. doing so, he runs into angeal and hollander. 

with his sword shaking in his hand, he decides that he has to bring angeal down and stop this cycle. that as long as he’s alive then genesis will be as well. he finds out that angeal is a result of project gillian and that said gillain actually killed herself in her home. he feels so bad, so disgusting that he had accused angeal slaying his own mother. those thoughts aren’t with him for long, but he sees him combining with all of this copies to become angeal penance. this is it, this where he is where he’s going to have to slay his mentor, the man that he’s looked up to and found as a role model. angeal, his friend that he had confided so much of his secrets in, dead by his blade. it’s like the battle was over in an instant, because now angeal was on the ground, blood pouring out of his wounds whilst slowly degrading. while zack sustained injuries of his own, the most noticeable one was the x on his cheek, with blood slowly running down his neck. it doesn’t take long for him to realize that his whole intent was to kill him, while angeal still had some semblance of honor left. it wasn’t fair, he shouldn’t have to be the one to do it.

angeal weakly hands him his buster sword and tells him to remember dreams, that zack should aim to be a true member of SOLDIER and protect his honor.

when he dies, he takes a deep breath and presses the buster sword to his forehead much like angeal did before he went on missions. sorry, angeal. i can’t do that. i can’t be the SOLDIER you want me to be. my dreams… what does it even mean to be a hero? what honor do i have left as SOLDIER? as long as i stay here, i have none. i will continue to live with what’s left.

later he confides in aerith, traumatized over angeal’s death. he doesn’t want to be in SOLDIER anymore, not what’s going on behind the scenes. unfortunately, while being under the contract of shinra, he’s forced to stay in and serve as a SOLDIER 1st class.

at 18, he’s one of the few SOLDIER 1st class left, the other one being sephiroth. when interacting with a brigade of shinra troops, he tells them that if they want to be a SOLDIER, they must have dreams and honor. while the troops have said to find his speech admiring and they they look up to him with his cool, new look! it’s any rare time that he gives a somber look. don’t believe what shinra says. think for yourself. he doesn’t want to promote and encourage more people to join SOLDIER. deny them as much man power as he possibly can, even if it gets him in trouble with the higher ups. as long as he’s here, he’s under the thumb of shinra.

as a “congratulatory break”, he’s sent to costa del sol to rest and relax. except the fact that he was opposite of that. cissnei was here with him, and any other time he wouldn’t mind, but he knew why she was also on “break” with him. though he’s warned that genesis copies have been spotted, and he has no choice but to fight. a soon to be vacation was over with, when he’s also informed that hojo broke out of prison with the suspicions of lazard, who was said to have disappeared prior before. he rushes to midgar to help stop the genesis copies with the stolen tech of shinra. when he found hollander, it was too late and he escaped. lo’ and behold sephiroth has finally arrived and tells zack that his mission was deemed a failure. he’s just tired of all of this, more concerned about the towns people that caught up in the mess than hollander. at this point, he was too deep that he has no choice for hollander to seek justice for what he’s done. needless to say, he doesn’t care much about seeing sephiroth, but hearing him say he forgives him of his misdeeds relaxes him. with sephiroth’s permission to go back to midgar to see aerith, he heads off there immediately. 

when he arrives at the church, he spots an angeal copy with aerith. at first assuming the worst, he aims to kill it but aerith says not to. instead, the copy protects aerith instead from an uninvited monster. zack doesn’t trust it, but leaves it in the church’s beams anyways to watch over her. he tells aerith that he’s going to be gone for a long time, and he won’t know when he’ll be coming back. so she suggests that zack makes the flower wagon he promised her long ago. when he gets the pieces together, he’s disappointed that aerith doesn’t like it but uses it anyways. he’s with her for several hours, selling flowers, but when he sees aerith being lenient with the price, he tells her not to settle for less. make your stand and not sell it for 1 lousy gil. the flowers deserve to be 10 gil a piece, at least. when a costumer comes across aerith and zack selling flowers, he tells them that it’s their dream to make midgar full of flowers. unfortunately, it isn’t a bit later that he gets a called away on his last mission. before he leaves, he tells aerith that aerith should do something for zack every time he comes to visit her, like wearing pink. he thinks pink is a really endearing color on her. he finds tseng hiding behind a piece of playground equipment, and even though he doesn’t fully trust the turks, he’s really the only one he can trust to take care of aerith, not exactly understanding tseng’s role in the first place.

when zack gets back, he finds cloud, who’s trying to round everyone up for the next mission. zack is elated and excited that finally another mission with him. he finally meets with sephiroth, accompanied by cloud and several other unnamed shinra infantryman, and sephiroth tells them they’re leaving for nibelheim. their goals there were to inspect the incoming monsters infiltrating the town and a malfunctioning reactor. although zack is surprised that cloud has his helmet on, he has his suspicions, he asks why. cloud doen’t give a direct answer, so he brushes it off, not wanting to push the issue. hearing that sephiroth doesn’t have family, he perks up when he hears him mention jenova’s name. jenova… jenova… isn’t that the cells they were using for the monsters? genesis mentioned something about that, didn’t he?

when they go check out the reactor, tifa is there and offers them around nibelheim as a tour guide, even taking pictures in the process. the reactor is now fixed, but among the pods they find monsters soaked in mako. zack is disgusted and feels bad to the people who were affected by this. what were the lads words they said to their family? what were they doing when they got kidnapped? climbing the stairs, he finds the biggest pod with jenova and he can’t help but stare at the plaque. jenova… wait, that’s sephiroth’s mother! before he can think about it more, sephiroth starts to speak. you average SOLDIER members are mako - infused humans. you’re enhanced, but you’re still human. …but then what are these things? their mako levels are exponentially higher than yours. when sephiroth explains that they are monsters spawned by mako energy and that hojo created them, it didn’t take long for zack to connect the dots. he didn’t want it to be true, but it wasn’t a coincidence that the three best friends weren’t human at all, just experimental pawns made by the scientists of shinra. zack approaches him, and tries to be careful on the subject. he didn’t want it to be true. you said “average” member. what about you? that should’ve been an instance where he kept his mouth shut.

this whole thing was no coincidence. seeing sephiroth suddenly grip his head and ask himself if he’s an abomination, that he’s not like the others. zack can’t help but wonder what’s wrong and console him or to be shoved away. makes it no better that genesis came to confirm that’s the case, blowing zack away; that sephiroth is not human because he was created from jenova, or the remains of those failed experiments. finally, when genesis leaves after sephiroth, zack rushes after him to see zack be blasted by a monster and helped by tifa. it makes sense that sephiroth possibly the strongest monster out of angeal and genesis. when he helps tifa and cloud back to the inn, he goes to check up on sephiroth, who is in the basement of the shinra basement. in a mistake of one room, he comes across a seemingly sleeping man in a coffin. oh, creepy. finding sephiroth, he is immediately shunned away with him burying his face in the books. it was his fault this happened anyways, that he had to ask why sephiroth thought he was different from the other SOLDIERS, even angeal and genesis. he was going to try again, because he wasn’t going to have sephiroth betray them too. except sephiroth continued to ignore him and even threatened him to leave. there was a terrible feeling in his gut, but there was nothing he could do, so he left to go check on cloud back at the inn.

cloud was fine, but he wanted to talk to him about tifa and the fact that he was hiding his face the whole time he was in nibelheim. it was a personal issue it seemed, but cloud said if only he was in SOLDIER, then he would be strong enough to protect tifa and others. except, zack wasn’t on board. SOLDIER is a den of monsters. don’t go inside. everything shinra has told you about it is a lie. how great it is… how it produces the best heroes in the world; they don’t settle the peace, they’re just glorified monsters. they don’t care about what happens to the people, as long as it funds their goals in the end. cloud seemed confused, wanting to know more about what he was talking about. zack has the experience of being in SOLDIER in his belt, he just wants to prevent people from being in the same situations he’s been in many times. you know, i asked myself what it meant to be SOLDIER. when i first joined, i thought i was proud to be a part of shinra. everyone talked about how great being in shinra was, but no one knows what lies in the dark. only i know the truth. cloud, do me a favor: don’t ever look in SOLDIER’s direction, before you get turned into a monster, too. 

cloud is still confused, but agrees with him regardless because he was someone who looked greatly up to zack, and it must be serious if he’s saying stuff like this too. though he couldn’t help but ask if zack was considered a monster also. zack doesn’t answer for a long moment, even considering. … i might be. all monsters are infused with mako energy afterall. wouldn’t it make sense if i were one? cloud doesn’t know how to answer it, so he nods towards the buster sword, telling zack that’s never seen him use it. zack picks up angeal’s sword and thinks. this is a symbol of my dreams and honor. it was a symbol of angeal’s burden of SOLDIER honor, not his own. no, it’s not. it’s symbol of my freedom, when i finally leave SOLDIER for good. when i make up all the wrongs it’s done to the innocent people of midgar. this is a symbol for… my own honor. this is proof that i am alive and that i exist. who gives a damn about SOLDIER anyways? no, he wasn’t a monster and never will be one. he’s a kind, and cares for others. do monsters do that? he smiles at cloud and sets down the blade. he thanks him while going straight to sleep. cloud doesn’t even have a say in what for.

a week passes. zack hasn’t seen sephiroth in town and every time he visits him, he is shoved away and ignored. it doesn’t even look like he’s been sleeping. it’s his horror when he wakes up to the increased heat in october and the smell of smoke that he finds out nibelheim is on fire. going to confront sephiroth, he sees tifa curled up, cursing shinra and SOLDIER. he meets him in the reactor where he’s talking to jenova, which he fights him not soon afterwards. just like genesis and angeal, monsters from experiments. sephiroth is no longer the man he had once trusted and admired, so he must either kill him or try and talk him out his hazed trance of god superiority. which is pathetic to think about, because if he couldn’t convince angeal, what makes him think he can talk to sephiroth? zack is striked down, too weak to fight on, so seeing cloud approach, he begs for him to finish sephiroth off. for what he’s seen, it looks like killed him. that victory is short lived when he becomes unconscious. 

for the next 4 years, his dreams died as fast as he desired them. he vaguely remembers such unjust experiments done to him; pumping in so much mako and the power of jenova cells it feels like the flesh is melting off his bones and his heart pounds heavily in his chest. zack doesn’t even realize it’s been 4 years, maybe several days max when he sees angeal’s image in his sleep. he tries to scream for him, but nothing comes out. he bangs on the glass, but there’s no sound. the next few seconds flash by, and now he’s on the ground in some lab. where was he? that didn’t matter. he’s free now, and he’s see cloud in a pod that was next to his own. from then on, it was his duty to take care of cloud until he woke up. it didn’t matter if he didn’t wake up for 3 months, he was still going to be by his side. it’s the least he could do, he owes him so much for getting cloud involved in this mess. 

when he’s finally able to change his clothes, he realizes upon closer inspection that cloud is suffering from severe mako poisoning. he’s seen it in several SOLDIER members who were addicted to it, like they were in such a catatonic state it took them a day to several to get over it. he can’t imagine the intake he has taken, but zack was fine, already being infused with it previously. 

he takes cloud to the coast of a beach that wasn’t far from nibelheim, but by the time he got there, it was night time. he didn’t mind, he needed a break anyways and they had to wait it out until morning because of all the shinra patrols. which, has hasn’t figured out why there were so many to begin with. he’s approached by cissnei, but she wasn’t here for a friendly conversation, her weapon drawn. she asks if he’s the runaway specimen, which gives zack the idea that while he got his wish of no longer being a SOLDIER, he is now seen nothing as an experiment gone wrong. that’s not quite what he had mind, but also finding out that being gone for 4 years makes sense, being presumed dead when he was captured. how was he supposed to function in this world now when it’s moved on and you’re left behind? it was cissnei’s orders to capture him alive, but zack would be dead than rather to be back in shinra’s hands. seeing her able to actually put up a fight, zack escapes to meet back up with cloud. cissnei comes back, but offers him her peace, and a vehicle for them to runaway in. he thanks cissnei, and cloud and zack attempt to back to midgar, while trying to run from shinra.

another year passes, he sees genesis on the road, which he’s been told that zack’s “gift of the goddess”. becoming captured, a genesis clone eats some of his hair to help stop his degradation, except the cells had adapted to zack’s body, having already intaken mako in the past. the clone transforms into a monster, which zack has to fight to pass. he does, becoming more frustrated and angry until he reaches gongaga. he decides to make a pit stop, but cissnei finds him, telling that his hometown is such an obvious place for shinra to find zack. except he spots a white wing and a flash of angeal’s face. 

he leaves cissnei and goes to chase the figure, finding out it’s lazard who had become an angeal copy. once wanting revenge and filled with anger, absorbing angeal’s cells caused him to have a strong will and the desire to help out zack. he’s degrading, and it shows by the withered feathers. unexpectedly, he asks what zack’s dreams were. this time, he takes serious consideration. no longer someone of shinra or SOLDIER, he’s free to do whatever he pleases, however now that’s very sure in his goal, he tells lazard that he wants to a hero. this time, not for fame or to see how great people are. if he can save one person, then he can be a hero. if he can help at least one person, then that’s good enough for him. he doesn’t care about fame, or the glory that comes with a praised name. that’s boring and not for him at all. lazard laughs and tells him exactly what he had said before when he first asked those years ago: unattainable dreams are the best kind.

genesis and hollander find them, which hollander now has become a genesis clone. genesis informs him that cloud is the last bearer of pure s - cells. upon them trying to take it, zack officially kills hollander at last, which he leaves cloud with a wounded lazard. zack finally gets the hint with the constant banora apples he always holds that genesis works from banora. he asks a dying lazard to look after cloud as he goes to finish off a further degrading genesis. he chases him underground and finds and finishes him. after all this time, he can’t feel the harbor of anger and hatred he once had towards genesis, but now only pity and sadness. all this for a shred of immortality, just because he was afraid of dying. however, he can’t forgive all those people he’s captured and extracted for any hopes to stop his degradation process as a failed experiment. he leaves genesis down in the banora underground where the lifestream goes through.

coming back to the surface, he sees lazard dead with the angeal copy that had protected aerith in her church. zack rests with cloud when the last angeal copy to dies, thanking it for protecting aerith this whole time while he was away. with his new found motivation, zack hitches with cloud on the back of a truck on the way to midgar. zack tells him that he wants to become a mercenary, any job that’s dangerous or boring, as long as it has pay. he also informs cloud that he’ll join him too, because they’re friends, right? he also has “conversations” with a continued catatonic cloud about how he can’t wait for him to meet aerith. zack thinks the two of them will get along perfectly, like they’re two peas in a pod. also recalling how cloud had issues with talk about tifa, he hopes that cloud gets that resolved because he’s sure tifa misses him a lot and wants him to come home (which, it’s unfortunately no longer nibelheim). zack continues to talk to cloud about nonsense, even silly stories about being in SOLDIER. he says once that kunsel had e - mail’d him like crazy when he mysteriously found that he was still alive. it’s like he’s too ashamed to face him now. 

he spots a shinra road block, which zack thanks the driver and sets cloud to the side, telling him he’ll be right back. he’s convinced that he will die here but he will continue to fight for his freedom as long as he was associated with SOLDIER in any time frame. that’s fine with him. approaching him, he gives a sigh and a shake of his head. then pressing the blade to his forehead, he speaks to himself. whatever happens, protect your dreams…  and your honor. fight for your freedom and your right to exist! come and get it! before charging at the army in his wake. 

it feels like the battle went on for hours, being targeted at several different directions. the weight of the buster sword was becoming too heavy, his arms feeling like lead and legs feeling like jello. dodge a bullet there, block a punch there. even several summons later, it like his body was running on auto - drive. he’s lost vision in one eye, but he can still fight. the pain is numbed by the adrenaline running through his body and how his lungs are struggling for air with every swing he takes. was he really going to die here? his first mistake was believing in shinra’s ideals and goals, and continuing to follow them, what kind of idiot was him? quickly went down from being a respectable, admirable leadership to someone who’s the lowest of the low. shinra won’t keep midgar safe. everyone is pawns, they’re all expendable. they don’t care about its people, they will sacrifice as many as they can. what’s their end goal? he doesn’t know. he just wants to right all the wrongs he’s done, all the ignorant stuff he’s said. it’s all over. he owes the people.

i’m sorry. i’m sorry.

it’s almost a hour later, his back is laid against the bloodied ground with a cloudy sky above him with the hilt of the blade loosely being held in his hand. did he… make it? his heart rate is slow but as long as he can still move. was cloud okay? that was his main concern. cloud… his voice is quiet, rasp as he struggles to sit up. blood is pouring down his face and neck, a rib was cracked, but that was the last thing on his mind. cloud, we did it. there’s a very weak smile on his face, his left eye is non - functional, and he’s using his buster sword as a crutch. a rather pathetic sight. did you see that? he finds cloud resting exactly where he rested him. good, he’s so relieved. he struggles to pick cloud up, but with his arm held across his shoulders, he’s wincing and in so much pain, but they had to keep moving. we’re almost there. then he can see aerith again, the freedom of the sky of his victory well won.

however, he collapses upon half way making it to midgar, unconscious from blood loss, but when he wakes up, he’s at the slums sector 7 train station. he looks at his side and see cloud still knocked out. he’s safe. he’s spotted by tifa, who regonizes cloud and brings them back to the apartments. zack is treated by a doctor, with 2 cracked ribs and a loss of his left eye, which is covered up with a bandaged eye patch. cloud is still catatonic, however slowly regaining consciousness, as he is showing more body function than he has in the past year. while recovering, zack is introduced to avalanche, who’s goal was to fight against shinra and their greedy destruction of the planet. zack decides to still work as a mercenary while aiding avalanche, to take back what they’ve killed and caused chaos with. he decides to take tifa to the side and apologize for what happened in nibelheim and her dad, even feeling solely responsible. 

when zack is able to fight, he takes up the job to help bomb a reactor, albeit hesitant, and helping up around  the sector 7 slums with the neighborhood watch, even going to the sector 5 slums and reuniting with aerith. even after all this, he still maintains a positive face, joking with the lack of a brain cell.

however, bombing the reactor has tied him with shinra once again, instead of being a SOLDIER 1st class, he’s an escaped fugitive; a betrayer of shinra. the events after this is still to be determined.

[lucidpantone]

I’m indulging one of these. You can thank @hopetofantasy for tagging me 😘

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

Black

2. A food you never eat?

I literally eat everything and I will try almost anything once aside from certain proteins like horse, turtle or dog or anything like that.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

showering

5. What is your favorite candy bar?

Not a huge candy bar person but I love strawberry strips and british bon bons.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

My bff is in the sports industry I go to stuff all the time. Last one was a huge horse racing event.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?

“Water.. don't forget water.”

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

cookie dough 

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

Currently drinking water and chardonnay. Double fisting.

10. Do you like your wallet?

Yea its a bright orange prada wallet. Its super dirty now got it like 5 years ago as a treat.

11. What was the last thing you ate?

Chicken and fried rice.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

clothes no but am considering purchasing this astrology hoodie thats way over priced but for a good cause. 

13. The last sporting event you watched?

On tv? basketball before they killed the season. Plus figure skating has been on lately but now thats cancelled too.

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Easy caramel.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

my bff

16. Ever go camping?

A couple of times its okay.

17. Do you take vitamins?

I have them but I forget.

18. Do you go to church every sunday?

No.

19. Do you have a tan?

Yea I was born with one. All year around.

20. Do you prefer chinese food or pizza?

Depends. How hungover am I? because if a lot chinese. If just generally then Pizza (specifically NY slices).

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

I rarely every drink soda and not with a straw.

22. What color socks do you usually wear?

black almost always 

23. Ever drive above the speed limit?

I was born in LA. If you don't drive above the speed limit there you’re going to be tail gated till you do. Road rage is real there.

24. What terrifies you?

rats

25. Look to your left, what do you see?

nothing just a wall.

26. What chore do you hate?

Cleaning (hence I have a cleaner lol). Amazon cleaning is a blessing.

27. What do you think of when you hear an australian accent?

Hide the liquor asap.

28. What’s your favorite soda?

diet coke

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru?

Go in, no drive thru in nyc.

30. Who’s the last person you talked to?

my bff

31. Favorite cut of beef?

Love t bone or ny strip. Skirt is amazing but so bad for you.

32. Last song you listened to?

Max richter non-eternal

33. Last book you read?

Dune (rereading for the movie)

34. Favorite day of the week?

Saturday

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?

Yes.

36. Do you like your coffee?

Hahaahaha. Do I like coffee? Its basically a food group for me. To put it in context I spent $45 on groceries last week and $57 on coffee pods/beans.

37. Favorite pair of shoes?

I got a ton I love but my purple camper suede platforms or my gold schutz sneaks.

38. At what time do you normally go to bed?

3am

39. At what time do you normally get up?

If a work week during quarantine 10am if not then 830/9 to commute into the office.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunsets.

41. How many blankets are on your bed?

2

42. Describe your kitchen plates.

Ikea white but the fancier line because my roommate insisted.

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

I think you mean beverages. Plural.

Red wine: Malbec or a montepulciano

White: Sauv Blanc

Cocktail: Daytime: margarita Nighttime: old fashion

Beer: IPA (always)

44. Do you play cards?

Have done, I love a good gamble

45. What color is your car?

I don’t have a car. Don't need a car in NYC.

46. Can you change a tire?

Probably

47. What is your favorite province?

Province? I think you mean state and well its gotta be my home state. California I am a beach girl at heart.

48. Favorite job you’ve ever had?

My last job and my current job. I am super lucky.

49. How did you get your biggest scar?

I was getting out of a black cab in London and scraped my knee badly.

50. What did you do today that made someone else happy?

Watch my bff tik tok dance though I think she is to old for that shit but I still support. Quarantine does weird things to people.

[scriptura-adrepticius]

Holidays - 9P

Hello, hello! I don’t know how many people even still care about this blog but @hyukcieee, here’s your Christmas present from the npn secret santa! It’s still Christmas where I live so I hope it isn’t too late?? I was going to post it like last week but everything picked up like two weeks before so I had 0 time to write, sorry :/

You said it didn’t matter which member it was for so I wrote a short drabble for each 9p member based on a prompt off of the npn winter prompt challenge :) I hope you like them!

I hope everyone who reads this is having a great day and happy holidays to you all!

Pairing: Nine Percent x reader

Genre: fluff, nonspecific!au

Word Count: 5.4k

Holidays with Nine Percent are certainly holidays that you will never forget.

Masterlist

beautiful group of people, i will love them forever

Someone decided to put mistletoe all over the school as a sick sort of joke, and you’ve just been shoved under a clump of the stuff by your conniving “friends.” Who are you supposed to kiss, you might ask? Well, your friends are eyeing a certain someone walking down the hall…

- - -

“So anyway, he -” You stop short, glowering at your friends as they immediately look away from each other, looking suspiciously innocent. “Alright, that’s it, what’s wrong with you all?” you snap. “You’ve been like this for the past two days!”

“Like what?” Dinghao asks a little too innocently.

“Yeah, I wasn’t aware that we were acting differently at all,” Huafei chimes in.

You huff, trying to formulate your jumbled thoughts into words. “You don’t pay attention to me when I talk, you’re always whispering with Linkai and his little gang, you keep giving me those strange looks - how can you say you’re not acting differently?!”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then someone grabs your arms and holds them hostage behind your back.

“What the fuck?” you snap, violently twisting. “Let me go, dumbass!”

“Uh-uh-uh,” Dinghao sings, looking very, very gleeful. Next to him, Huafei and Ruotian stifle giggles, while you struggle even harder. “What the hell is going on!” you yell, attracting quite a lot of attention.

Jingzuo looks upwards, smirking, and you follow his gaze, eyes widening in horror as you take in the small plant that hangs from the ceiling.

“Oh hell no,” you mutter, shaking your head wildly. “No, no, no, no, no! Gao Maotong, get your stupid hands off of me, or so help me I’ll -”

Then someone slams into you and Maotong releases your arms, allowing you to collapse in a heap on the floor. Disgruntled and feeling extremely murderous, you grit your teeth and look up, ready to chew your friends out.

Instead, you see an outstretched hand. Your eyes travel upwards, taking in dark clothes, a leather jacket, and then…

Oh my god.

You meet eyes with your crush of two years, Wang Ziyi.

It takes a couple of seconds to force yourself to calm down, and though you want nothing more than to run away screaming, you accept his hand, allowing him to help pull you up. You try really hard to look at his face, but it’s so hard - the whole situation is just so absurd. You drop his hand as soon as you can.

“Sorry,” he says in that low voice of his, giving you that soft smile that never fails to turn you into an absolute train wreck. “My friends pushed me.” He shrugs apologetically.

“I - uh, it’s fine,” you say quickly, willing the growing heat to leave your face. “I’ve gotta go, but -”

“You have nowhere to go!” Huafei snaps. “Don’t lie to Ziyi!”

If your face wasn’t red before, now it is. You shoot her a furious glare.

What in the world are you doing?! you scream internally, hoping she gets the message.

“Y/N?” Ziyi’s voice snaps your attention back to him. “I… I think I know why they put us here.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, cursing each and every single one of your so-called friends. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice tight. “Sorry. My friends are stupid. I - it’s cool if you, uh, if you don’t want to, I totally get it, I wouldn’t want to kiss me either, sorry about everything, this is all a mess, I swear I had no part in planning this -”

“Hey, hey, hold up,” Ziyi says, taking your hand again. You flinch at the suddenness of his gesture but otherwise manage to remain neutral.

His next words, however, have you shell-shocked.

“Who said I didn’t want to kiss you?”

Total silence.

“Sorry?”

His stupid, gentle smile is on his lips again and you can’t think at all. “I asked who said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“I - I thought - I thought we were just friends?” you squeak. “I, uh, since when…” You let out a little huff. “What the hell?”

Ziyi’s little laugh is even more addicting than his smile. He leans in a little closer, and you can feel his breath puffing slightly on your face.

“You wouldn’t mind, would you, if I kissed you now?” he asks, ignoring the gasps and hoots of the crowd watching.

“For tradition or because you like me?” you manage to spit out.

A shy blush flits across Ziyi’s cheeks and you almost melt. “Because I like you.”

The smile that overtakes your lips is shaky but genuine and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “Then, no, I wouldn’t mind,” you reply.

His lips press against yours, and your mind goes blank. You can register only the feeling of his lips on yours, his fingers clutching your hands, his hair tickling your cheek. You cannot hear the cheers of your friends, the squeals of the crowd, the claps of the audience. It’s like Ziyi is your entire world.

When he pulls away, cheeks flushed red, you seize on your temporary insanity and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close again.

“Remind me to kill my friends later,” you murmur, and you just hear the beginnings of his gentle laugh before you press another kiss to his lips.

. . . . .

Why did your best friend decide to put mistletoe all over the school as a joke? You don’t know. Why did you go along with it? You don’t know. All you know is that you didn’t expect to accidentally stumble under a bunch of it with said best friend. It isn’t just the cold that’s turning your cheeks red, now.

- - -

“How did this happen?” you ask, not looking at your best friend for fear of him seeing your blush. “Why are we so fucking dumb?”

Linkai snorts. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not dumb.”

“Oh yeah? Then who was the one that first walked under the mistletoe?” you snap.

“And who was the one that didn’t realize and walked under after me?” he retorts.

You cross your arms. “Fine,” you groan. “So are you going to kiss me? Or are we just going to walk away and pretend this didn’t happen?”

On one hand, you want him to agree to the second so your feelings for him stay hidden forever. On the other hand, you want him to agree to the first so you can fulfill one of your dreams.

“Tradition is tradition,” Linkai mutters, refusing to look at your face. You can see the pink tinting his cheeks though and for the first time, you think your feelings might be returned.

“Since when have you been a traditional kid?” you push, forcing him to look up. “Never. So how come you’re relying on tradition now?”

The tiny smirk he throws you gives you a heart attack. “Because… maybe I like you?”

You blink once. Then twice.

“Only ‘maybe?’”

A real blush spreads across Linkai’s face and you can see how much effort it’s taking for him to look into your eyes. Understandable, because you want nothing more than to duck and run away into the crowd that’s forming as well.

“Fine. I definitely like you,” he mumbles, ruffling his hair.

You smile a little. “Good, because I like you too.”

Amidst cheers and hoots, you press a short kiss to his lips, leaving the usually confident boy speechless. Then, suddenly, he regains his confidence and pull you to him for a deeper kiss.

Most of the time, Linkai’s mischief gets him into trouble. At least this time, something good came of it.

You smile into his lips.

. . . . .

Holiday season means holiday shopping, no? You hate shopping, but when you come face to face with that cute sales guy you’ve had a crush on for a long time… well, maybe your sentiments will change now that you’ve seen him decked out in holiday gear, looking stupidly, absolutely adorable.

- - -

The bus is full of people, and you curse your stupid, procrastinating self for leaving Christmas shopping for the last minute.

Christmas shopping is a bore.

With a tired sigh, you squeeze onto a seat. You can practically smell the sweat and heat radiating off of the people and you crinkle your nose up with another sigh.

Then, your brain decides it’s the best time to cut in with a stupid thought.

Hey, shopping isn’t that bad. You might get to see that cute sales guy!

You really hope no one sees the blush crawling up your cheeks. If anything, hopefully they’ll think it’s the residual cold.

Cai Xukun is literally the cutest guy you have ever met. He is drop dead gorgeous but down to earth and mellow at the same time. His smile is blinding, his eyes are sweet, his laugh is beautiful… there is literally nothing not to love about the boy.

“And here I am, thinking like a lovestruck thirteen year old,” you mutter, making room for another person as they squeeze by. The bus rattles and belches a cloud of smoke, then rattles away.

You sigh.

It’s going to be a long day even if I do get to see Xukun.

- - -

Ten stores later, you’ve found almost all of your gifts. Your wallet is about to start sobbing, your feet are about to start screaming, and you are about to sag into a tired puddle on the floor.

“One more to go,” you mumble, looking with trepidation at the fancy storefront.

Nine Percent. Your best friend’s favorite clothing store. They have some of the most outrageous items but at least the prices are fair.

Also the place where - guess who - Cai Xukun works.

You drag your sorry self into the store.

“Hello, welcome! Can I help you today?” a cheery-faced boy with a bright smile asks chirpily the second you walk inside.

It’s not Xukun. You hope the disappointment doesn’t show on your face as you give him a slight smile. “No thanks,” you reply. “Just looking.”

“Christmas shopping?” he asks, looking sympathetic. You allow a sardonic smile to show itself before nodding. “Yeah.”

“Shit, sorry,” he laughs. “But let me know if you need any help!”

“I will, thanks.”

The store is huge, but it doesn’t take much effort to find the section your friend loves since you’ve been here so many times. You drop your bags, rubbing your aching hands, before perusing the racks. Minutes later, you’ve found something, and after checking the size you back to the front of the store to pay.

Then your brain short circuits, because your stupid crush is manning the counter. He’s got a stupid little Santa hat on with a stupid green woolen sweater, and he looks like… boyfriend material. There is no other way to put it.

Suddenly, you care a little too much about the knots in your hair, the bags under your eyes that you haven’t bothered to cover up, your oversized hoodie that now seems too casual for this. You want to at least pat down your hair, but then you’d probably knock your bags everywhere, and you don’t want to look stupider than you already do. So you steel yourself and walk up to the counter.

“Hi!” Xukun says with his bright smile. Your heart thumps. “Ready to pay?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you say quickly, pushing the clothing over.

There’s silence as he rings up the items and places them into a bag. You jab your card into the machine and look down determinedly because you are absolutely sure your cheeks are bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face is really red.”

Fuck.

“I’m fine.” You give him an awkward smile. “It’s just… the cold outside.”

The little smirk he gives you as he hands the bag over gives you a heart attack. “I see. Well, have a nice day! Happy holidays!”

What the fuck does that smirk mean?

“Thanks, you too!” you squeak before bolting out of the store.

Outside, the cold air cools your cheeks and after trudging a few streets, you sit down at the bus stop. With a sigh of relief as the pressure is taken off of your aching feet, you take out the receipt from your latest bag to stuff inside your wallet.

What’s on the receipt nearly gives you a second heart attack.

Hey, one of my friends told me you think I’m cute. Well, I think you’re cute too. Here’s my number, text me sometime, alright?

XXX-XXX-XXXX

A strangled sort of screech leaves your throat, causing more than a few concerned looks to be thrown your way, but you’re too busy staring at the receipt to care.

Once you’re settled on the bus, you take out your phone with trembling fingers and input the number. After agonizing over the text for several minutes, you settle for “Hey, you gave me your number on my receipt. Are you sure it wasn’t a mistake?”

One minute passes, then two, then three.

Read.

Typing…

No mistakes were made. I’m Xukun, but I’m sure you know that.

I hope you are Y/N?

You’re almost hyperventilating.

Yeah, I am.

He responds quickly.

Great. Want to go out for coffee sometime? My treat!

It takes all your effort not to scream out loud, but as you type out your answer with a smile on your face, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Christmas shopping isn’t so bad.

. . . . .

You’ve always wanted to be kissed in the rain, thinking that it’s the ultimate romantic gesture. Well, there isn’t any rain, but maybe snow will do.

- - -

“Why do you love rain?” Linong asks, shivering in the cold. He’s wearing a huge coat and has a scarf wrapped around his neck, while you only have a warm sweater. “Rain is so… cold.”

“But what about when the sun is out while it’s raining? Then it’s warm rain, and it’s like… fun! You can jump around in the rain!” You grin, whirling around with your arms out. “Plus, you’re so tall and fit. How come you’re still cold? It’s just a little snow!”

Linong shrugs, burrowing further into his scarf. “It’s still snow,” he mumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you grab his hand. “Warmer?”

You can see the blush on his cheeks despite his efforts to hide it. “Come on, we’ve been dating for nearly six months, Nong!”

The kiss you press on his cheek seems to increase the blush. “Warm now? That’s what your face is telling me.”

“Stop teasing,” Linong complains.

“What if I don’t want to?” You smile teasingly, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“So you want to continue teasing? How about I ask you about your fantasy of being kissed in the rain?” Linong tosses back, finally pulling his face out of his scarf.

Suddenly, your face feels warm. Much warmer than before. “How - how do you know about that?” you squeak.

“You shouldn’t leave scribbles in the margins of your chemistry notebook,” he smirks.

Noted.

“Dammit,” you mutter. You can’t even be mad because you were the one who lent the notebook to him. 

“I mean, I could help you with that,” Linong mumbles, looking away. His face is red again.

You look up at the sky, almost getting a face full of snow. “There’s no rain…?”

“Snow’s suitable though, right? Until we actually get some rain?” Linong asks, looking adorably awkward. You blush too, but you also place your other hand in his.

“Of course it is,” you say, leaning up.

The falling snow swirls around your faces, resting on your hair, his scarf, and both yours and his cheeks as Linong presses his lips to yours in one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever shared.

. . . . .

Baking cookies? Not such a good idea when your friends decide to come over and wreak havoc in the kitchen.

- - -

When you suggested baking cookies with Justin, you didn’t expect him to be this much of a mess.

“Even Linkai can follow directions!” you scold, taking the dough out of Justin’s hand. “And stop eating it, you could get sick!”

“But then I’d have you to nurse me back to health,” Justin points out.

“You’re learning too much from Lin Yanjun!” you snap, whirling around with the bowl. Your boyfriend just snakes an arm around your waist as he licks another bit of dough off of his finger. 

“Huang Minghao!” you yell, snatching the bowl away from him. “Stop eating the dough or there will be no cookies for you!”

His eyes widen in mock terror and he backs away, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay!”

You sigh. “Didn’t you bet Zhengting that if you could get through a baking session without breaking anything, you’d choose what he had to wear on his next date?”

Justin nods eagerly, and you have to stop your heart from melting at the sight of the sparkle in his eyes. “Yeah! I’m going to make him wear that stupid gag gift Chengcheng sent me.”

“Jesus,” you say, spreading the dough out. “What did he ever do to you? No one should have to wear a sweater that ugly.”

Your boyfriend just shrugs.

“I’m dating an evil idiot,” you mutter, taking out the cookie cutters. “Here. Let’s cut the dough, and then after the cookies are baked we can decorate them, alright?”

“The best part!” Justin cheers.

“You better not eat all of the frosting,” you warn. “The cookies are already enough sugar for you!”

He sticks out his tongue. “No amount of sugar is enough sugar for Justin!”

“If you keep saying stupid stuff, I’m going to kiss you to shut you up.”

“Then I guess I better keep saying stupid stuff -”

Justin’s lips taste like cookie dough. As much as you hate to say it, the sweet flavor is appealing.

“Stop with the stupidity, Justin,” you say when you break away, leaving the boy somewhat shell-shocked and red-faced. “Now help me clear up. Don’t break anything, or else Zhengting’s going to make you wear that sweater to the Yuehua party!”

You eventually clean everything and get the cookies decorated without Justin breaking anything, but not before he sneaks in about a half dozen more kisses.

. . . . .

Your neighbor just walked out wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen. You think your eyes are bleeding, but somehow, he still looks… kind of cute.

- - -

“So, Zhengting,” you say amiably, hoping your eyes aren’t too wide with horror, “why are you wearing what you are wearing?”

Justin cackles from inside the apartment and you stifle a smirk. “Was it Justin’s fault?”

Zhengting sighs, eyes narrowed with disdain and helplessness. “Yeah,” he grumbles. “Lost a bet, so now I have to wear this shitty sweater Chengcheng sent him.”

“I hope Chengcheng got that as a gag gift, and not as a real gift,” you say, looking Zhengting up and down. “Ooookay, that’s it, that’s enough, my eyes are bleeding. I can’t look at you anymore. Take that thing off!”

“He’s not allowed!” Justin yells.

“You better let him change, Huang Minghao, or so help me I’ll return every single one of your Christmas gifts this year!” you yell back. “We can’t go on a date like this!”

“Yes you can!”

Zhengting sighs. “Let the kid have his fun,” he says resignedly, giving you a half smile. “It’s almost Christmas.”

“What happened to my strict boyfriend who didn’t put up with shit from Justin?” you gasp in mock surprise.

“He disappeared. Now let’s go out,” he says, taking your hand. “Before Justin thinks of something even worse for you to wear.”

You snort. “He wouldn’t dare. Also, why is this sweater so scratchy?”

“Fan Chengcheng is the worst.” Zhengting shrugs.

“Well, it if helps, you still look kinda cute.” You give your boyfriend a wide smile. He just laughs.

“You look kinda cute too, I guess.”

. . . . .

Every year, you and your neighbor compete over who has the best Christmas decorations outside your house. It isn’t friendly competition. Last year, the kids were flocking over to your neighbor’s house, oohing and aahing over their sparkly lights, and this year, you’re determined not to lose.

- - -

“My decorations are better than yours this year,” you say smugly, watching the kids on your street stand transfixed by the sparkling lights.

Zhangjing huffs. “As if,” he mutters, looking salty.

“It’s the truth, Zhangjing.” You grin. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Sweet, sweet victory. After two years of losing to your insufferable neighbor over your informal Christmas decoration competition… well, all you can say is victory is sweet.

The red and green lights illuminate Zhangjing’s sulky face and you have the sudden urge to pat his head like you would a small, whiny toddler. “Don’t be so sulky,” you coo.

“I’m not sulky!” Zhangjing snaps.

“Yes, you are. Also, it’s really cold now. Shouldn’t you be inside your house?” You look at him quizzically. “Why are you still out here?”

A small blush flits across Zhangjing’s cheeks. “Locked myself out,” he mumbles.

“You are a grown man, and you still managed to lock yourself out?” You snicker.

Zhangjing does not deign to reply.

“I can try to pick your lock,” you offer once your laughter subsides.

“Pick my lock?!”

You shrug. “Yeah. I used to be pretty good at picking locks until my friends forced me to stop.”

“For good reason,” Zhangjing mutters. “But yeah. You can give it a shot.”

“Cool, let’s go!” you cheer, fishing out a little bag of lock-picking tools from your pocket.

“Why do you have those in your pocket?”

You just grin in response.

- - -

You wiggle the pick inside the lock for a few seconds before looking up. “How come we do this every year? This stupid competition?”

Wind whistles through the air as Zhangjing does not respond.

“It’s weird,” you say, turning back to the lock. “No one ever put up lights on this block before I moved in. How come you did?”

Zhangjing mumbles something completely inaudible.

“What?”

“Yanjunmight’vesaidsomethingaboutgettingchristmaslightssothatyouwouldactuallynoticemebecauseithoughtyouwerecute.”

You blink. “What?”

Zhangjing huffs and smacks his head. “Why did I say anything,” he mumbles.

“Why’s your face so red?” you ask.

“It’s cold out!” he snaps defensively.

“My face isn’t that red… is it?” You shrug. “Anyway, didn’t catch what you said. Just Yanjun, Christmas lights, and… cute?”

A sigh of defeat rushes past your ear as you wiggle the lock pick around again. “When you moved in, I thought you were cute, so Yanjun suggested I get Christmas decorations to get your attention. And then it just evolved into some weird competition. Happy?”

“Uh, no?” you snap, standing back up. “If I’d known you thought I was cute, I would’ve asked you out like, two years ago!”

Dead silence. There isn’t even wind.

“In that case, unless you don’t think I’m cute anymore, I think we should go on a date tomorrow,” you say decisively, turning back to the lock. “I’ll come over at two!”

Snick. The lock opens. “And now your house is unlocked,” you say proudly. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The kiss you then press to his cheek leaves Zhangjing speechless.

. . . . .

You love winter, but winter hates you. Every year you get horrible seasonal allergies, complete with a stuffy nose, sneezes, and a rasping cough that drives away everyone within a fifty-foot radius. The only person who cares to stay near is your best friend, which is a little bit of an issue considering you have a sort of kind of massive crush on them.

- - -

“Toss me into a fire,” you mumble, sounding like you’ve got dirt in the back of your throat. “Everything hurts and I’m cold.”

No one hears you, of course. You’re alone.

“And now I’m talking to myself like the dumb, sick, idiot I am,” you mutter. “No wonder no one wants to be around me.”

And of course you’re being overdramatic again.

It’s not that no one wants to be around you normally. It’s just that no one wants to be around your germy, snotty, allergy-ridden self.

Winter is fun. Winter is great. Winter is awesome. You love winter, because it means presents, joy, snow, and time spent with loved ones.

But winter hates you. It always gifts you a stuffy nose and a loud, headache-inducing sneeze-cough that always comes just in time for the holidays, leaving you knocked out at home, taking multiple allergy medications in the hopes that you’ll be better in time for Christmas.

A loud sneeze racks your body, followed by a volley of coughs, and then you sink under your covers again. You sigh as deeply as you can without killing your throat.

Then someone knocks on the door.

Two seconds later, your phone buzzes.

Fan Chengcheng, December 12, 3:00 pm

Open the door!

You blink once, then twice. Why is Chengcheng here? When it’s clear you’re sick and dying?

You, December 12, 3:02 pm

are you trying to get yourself sick

Fan Chengcheng, December 12, 3:02 pm

Allergies aren’t contagious idiot

You, December 12, 3:03 pm

ya but the germs in my snot probably are

He just sends back a puking emoji followed by ‘just open the goddamn door.’

“God help me,” you mutter, rolling out of bed. You’ve wrapped your blanket around you like a burrito and you remain huddled in it, teeth chattering as you trudge through the cold apartment.

“Get inside,” you sniffle, shoving the tall boy inside before slamming the door shut. Even then, some of the cold seeps in, and you shiver underneath your blanket.

Chengcheng sets a bag down on your coffee table and raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d look this bad,” he says offhandedly.

A scowl spreads across your face. “If I wasn’t so sick, I’d punch you,” you rasp.

“Yeah, I know.” He sticks out his tongue. “But you are sick, so I have immunity. Well, for now.”

Huffing, you stomp on his foot, making him yelp more so in surprise than pain. “I’m going back to bed,” you mumble. “Do whatever you want, just don’t invite anyone over and don’t break anything. And don’t complain tomorrow if you wake up unable to breathe through a stuffy nose.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Chengcheng lifts you up, and you let out a strangled noise of surprise and embarrassment. Your face is hot and you pray that you can put it down to allergies if Chengcheng asks.

“Put me down!” you yell, the end of your command turning into a hacking cough.

“In your condition?” Chengcheng counters, nearly slamming your head into the doorframe. “No way.”

He almost knocks you into your bedroom wall. “You’re trying to kill me!” you snap.

“I would never!” he gasps, affronted, dumping you unceremoniously on the bed and placing a hand on his chest.

With effort, you roll over, covering yourself in the blanket. “Good night,” you mumble.

Chengcheng laughs, a small, quiet laugh that’s so uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self that you’re confused for a moment. And then the bed dips as he settles on the mattress, and his hand goes to rest in your hair, and you really want to tell him to stop or he’ll get sick but the feeling is so soothing and calming that you really don’t want him to stop.

“Go to sleep,” he murmurs, carding a hand through your hair. “You’ll feel better.”

As you drift into dreamworld, you hear a faint murmur.

“If only we could stay like this forever.”

You want to answer, but sleep claims you before you can.

. . . . .

Presents are a must at Christmas time, no? But no matter what you get this year, there’s only one thing you really want: you want him to come home.

- - -

“Still moping?” Zhangjing asks, sighing through the phone.

You roll over in bed. “Leave me alone,” you mumble, words muffled by the pillow. “Let me mope in peace.”

“Do you want to come over and see my Christmas lights?” he offers.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. Are you still having that competition with your neighbor?”

“About that…” Zhangjing coughs. “We’re kind of dating now?”

“WHAT?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?! I WANT ALL OF THE DETAILS!”

“I’ll tell you when I come over, just please stop screaming,” he begs.

“Fine. Her lights were better than yours though last time I saw,” you joke.

“That’s it, I’m never speaking to you again,” Zhangjing huffs. You can hear him shuffling things around on his end.

“No, no, I’m sorry, Zhangjing,” you relent, rolling over again. Silence takes over the call and your smile slips off of your face as you remember who isn’t coming home.

On the other end, Zhangjing curses. “Damn you, Lin Yanjun,” he complains. “Can’t even come home to be with your girlfriend for Christmas.”

“Be quiet, he’s just busy. And I’m just being an overdramatic idiot. I’ll get over it,” you assure him. The skeptical silence that follows tells you that Zhangjing is not reassured.

“Alright, enough of this. I’m coming over with some of the boys. Chengcheng can’t come though, his friend is sick and he’s taking care of her,” Zhangjing says in his no-nonsense voice. “I have cookies and we’ll cook and then we’re going to binge watch TV shows, got it?”

A slow smile spreads across your lips. “Thanks, Zhangjing.”

- - -

Once laughter is bouncing off of your walls, you don’t feel so lonely anymore. Justin’s and Linkai’s screams fill the rooms, and you find yourself smiling more widely than you thought you would.

“Feeling better?” Zhangjing asks over the yells in the kitchen. You nod and grin.

Soon, all the food is cooked and your tiny coffee table is creaking under the weight of all the dishes. The younger kids attack it all with a vengeance, though they’re sure to leave enough food for the “oldies.”

(“Who are you calling old?” Zhengting’s girlfriend snaps.

“Not you!” Justin yelps.)

You simply sit on the couch, watching from a distance. Seeing them all so happy warms your heart but at the same time, it just makes you remember who isn’t here.

“Dammit, Lin Yanjun,” you whisper, the smile slipping off your face.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziyi asks worriedly from across the room, trying to pick his way along the floor while Justin and Linkai wrestle wildly. At his words, though, they immediately stop, looking at you with wide eyes.

“I think Y/N needs a hug!” Justin announces, launching himself onto you. Linkai follows suit and you groan under their weight. “Help…”

Instead of them getting pulled off, though, more weight piles on, and pretty soon you’re buried under a mound of people. A tired sigh escapes your lips but at least you’re smiling. “Get off me!” you yell playfully. “I can’t breathe!”

In the second of silence that follows your declaration, there’s a loud knock on your door, followed by the doorbell.

“Who’s that?” you ask, wriggling out of the pile. “You think someone’s lost?”

“Maybe,” Ziyi says, shrugging. “I’ll go check.”

“Don’t get murdered on Christmas,” Justin quips.

“Murdered?” Linong asks worriedly.

“Joking, Nong, I’m joking.”

“Y/N, it’s something for you!” Ziyi yells.

Your eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “I thought packages weren’t delivered on Christmas?” you mumble to yourself.

“‘Something?’ What am I, not a human?”

You freeze.

“Y/N?” Ziyi pokes his head out of the corner to see you frozen. “Oh, there you are.”

“Is he actually here?” you squeak. “Like… I didn’t imagine that just now, right?”

Ziyi smiles. “He’s actually here.”

Two seconds later, you’ve knocked Yanjun into the doorframe with the force of your hug, but none of that matters because he’s home.

“Damn you,” you say, your words muffled by his jacket. “I hate you, Lin Yanjun!”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he says, patting your back. “Now can I come inside? It’s really cold out.”

You let him stumble inside and shut the door before wrapping him in a hug again. “I’m not letting you go,” you mumble.

“Not even to let me kiss you?” your boyfriend asks amusedly.

“Fine, I will make one exception.”

“KISS! KISS!”

“Remind me to slap Justin when this is over,” you say, letting Yanjun go briefly. He takes off his jacket and pulls you to him again as your arms go around his neck. He looks into your eyes with all the love in the world, and then he kisses you.

“I love you,” you murmur when you break away for air, “and I’m so glad you came back.”

“I love you too,” Yanjun says breathlessly before pulling you in again. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

[mako-lies]

Finally finished the promnyx thing. You can read it here or on AO3.

yards & milkshakes (ffxv, promnyx, t, part of the oracle!gladio verse)

Nyx's milkshake brings Prompto to his yard.

(Or: Nyx jumps out of an airship and is lucky enough to get a lift from a cute mechanic.)

Nyx was honest enough to admit he didn’t exactly follow orders to the letter. (Sometimes at all, but those were special cases, even Crowe agreed.) Occasionally it could be bothersome, given his profession. But when your boss said, “You couldn’t even if you tried,” without looking up from his mission report, you just had to prove him wrong with all due respect. Which was how Nyx wound up warping out of the speeding airship, calling back to the others, “Race you to the City!”

Last thing he saw was Libertus’s exasperated smile.

+

They weren’t that far out from the Crown City when he’d jumped out like some idiot action hero. Which, if half the stories the Glaives told about him over drinks were to be believed, wasn’t a bad description. Leide was hot as ever, especially in his leathers, but it wasn’t Galahd hot, so he’d pull through.

He warped out his landing, smack in a gaggle of grumpy garula. Just typical. Nyx considered them in that split second before they charged, his kukris up and ready as ever. Garula meat fetched a good price, but he didn’t really need the money. Not like he had anybody to spend it on, anyway. And the outposts could do their own hunting, they didn’t need some city slicker sliding in to do it for them. Most outposts had conservation programs for the herds these days. Who knew what elaborate planning he’d fuck up if he just killed them.

Yeah. Running it was.

Two towering adults and three car-sized babies started toward him then. He tossed one of his kukris and appeared, running, his stomach swooping out and tingling from the warp. Like drinking liters and liters of soda that had been all shook up.

Tusks first, the herd raged after him, ground rumbling like an earthquake.

The road rose up ahead, thankfully closer than he’d been expecting, and—

A neon yellow truck screeched to an abrupt halt just ahead of him.

Nyx warped again as the door shot open to reveal a lanky young man. A tuft of blond hair, styled like chocobo tail feathers. A neon yellow tank with hot pink lettering—HAMMERHEAD!!!—and the tiniest pair of frayed denim shorts Nyx had ever seen, and he’d been to Lestallum plenty. His entire look was topped with some black, thick-rimmed glasses that he’d seen kids wearing in the Crown City.

“Garula!” Nyx called, pulling in a breath so he could warp again. If this guy didn’t get moving, Nyx was gonna have to kill the beasts after all. Damn.

The guy flashed a smile—all sunshine and freckles—and in one hand he held a beat up, old school camera and in the other, a revolver that looked like it came out of one of those cowboy movies his mom’d liked. It was a lot to take in: somebody less shiningly attractive probably couldn’t have pulled it off, but as it was, the effect was breathtakingly silly.

The guy was so much to take in Nyx forgot to warp, just ran to the flashy truck and even flashier man. How old was he? Didn’t look older than twenty, but maybe that was just the pink converse haphazardly laced. “Get in!” He called, chipper for somebody holding a weapon.

Nyx was in no position to decline. He could outrun the garula, sure, and run back to the Crown City, but this guy looked like an adventure waiting to happen, and Nyx had a problem. That was what Libertus told him, anyway.

“‘Preciate it!” Nyx said, as he threw open the door.

The camera shutter sounded—taking a picture of the stampeding garula? Really?—guy was was probably crazy. Nyx could work with crazy.

Without firing a shot, the guy slid back into the driver’s seat and dumped the camera and gun in the backseat—and just gunned it. “Hang on,” he said, a second or two after he’d floored it. Better late than never? Wasn’t like Nyx objected to the thrill, lived for it, actually. The truck purred as it shot down the road. Nyx caught his breath. “I’m Prompto! Nice to meet ya!”

He turned to look at Nyx. His stomach lurched more than it had the first time he’d snatched up the King’s offered magick and warped. Hell. At the least the garula—Nyx double-checked the rearview mirror—were well behind them. “You one of those Crownsguard guys?”

“Kingsglaive, but close enough. Name’s Nyx Ulric.” Outside of the city, the distinction carried little heft, but inside it was everything.

“Headed to the city?” At Nyx’s tense nod, Prompto finally turned his full attention to the road. “Lucky I found you. I’m on my way to the Crown City, and well. Never been before, so I could use some company. Besides, you’re like super hot. Wins all around.”

Well. He was being flirted with. Guy was cute, and he’d saved Nyx a lot of trouble. A winning combo, for sure. “What’s your business in Insomnia?”

“Eh, you know. The uze. My dad kicked me out and now I’m off to college.”

“Your dad kicked you out?” Maybe he shouldn’t ask, but it was a hell of an opener.

“Yeah. Y’know Hammerhead? I work there. Or I did, before he fired me.” He half-shrugged, both hands firmly on the wheel.

It explained why the truck ran so smooth when most cars outside the Wall tended to be beat up at best. Did that mean that old mechanic at Hammerhead was his dad? Never would have guessed. Prompto didn’t look like he has an ornery bone in his body. “Know what you’ll study?”

“Eh, I’m gonna study poli-sci. Maybe someday I’ll get into politicks and everything,” he said with the air of somebody doing standup at their own hanging.

There’s weren’t a lot of white collar jobs for Outlanders, but especially politicks was a rich nobleman’s game. Still, if he could get his foot in the door, that’d be good for the Outlands, right? Nyx didn’t really know much about politicks, but it couldn’t be bad to have some more kinds of people making decisions. “Know anybody in the city?” He could already see the checkpoint looming up ahead.

“Well, I know you!”

It pulled a laugh from him. Cute. Forward. It didn’t hurt that Nyx had always had a soft spot for blonds. “Yeah,” Nyx agreed. “If you give me your number, I could help you out.”

Prompto beamed, all teeth and blinding light. “And here I was, hoping you might invite me to dinner!”

“Could do that.”

Prompto took both hands off the wheel to shove his phone at Nyx. Hell, Nyx couldn’t say for sure that reckless was his type, but it really should have been alarming and not flattering as hell that Prompto would risk their safety just for Nyx’s number. His heartbeat picked up even as Prompto put his hands back on the wheel.

He programmed himself into Prompto’s phone, a newer model with King’s Knight installed. Nyx put the phone on the dash. “There you are.”

“Thanks!” Prompto slowed as they hit the checkpoint. “So, Mr. Kingsglaive, got any tips for getting through?”

“I got it.”

He was ready to flash his Citadel badge, except the watch took one look at the car and asked, “You Prompto Sophiar?”

Prompto chewed his lip, fingers drumming the wheel. “Yep. That’s me!”

“Papers? The King just notified us that you would be coming.”

The King ? Nyx couldn’t help but stare as the guy fished out some old ratty papers from his tiny shorts. The girl examined them. “Looks to be in order. Who’s your friend?”

Nyx flashed his ID and they were let in without any more fuss. “The King?” Nyx had to ask.

“Oh, him and my dad used to be friends or something. Does that mean I have to meet him?”

“Probably. Want me to show you the Citadel?”

Prompto stared at where it loomed in the distance. “Thanks, but I wanna get settled a bit first. Where can I drop you?”

It would be easy enough to tell him where his apartment was, but Nyx had never been one to do things the easy way. And the guy was cute, biting his lip as he navigated the city with considerable more care than he took in the Outskirts. “My apartment is fine. How about lunch first? I know I promised dinner, but…”

Prompto took his gaze off the road for a half second, eyes wide, then he grinned. “Maybe a quick snack would be ok. Do you know somewhere nearby?”

“Sure. There’s a place that does burgers and milkshakes a few blocks down from my place.”

“That sounds like, amazing. Let’s do it!”

+

They made it without any mishaps, and Prompto even remembered his wallet and his camera. It was a small place, just a few tables with mismatched tables and a counter with a couple of worn stools. A family was there, taking up two of the tables, dipping their thick cut fries into their milkshakes.

Prompto beamed. “You sure know how to cheer a guy up.” He surveyed the menu. “The strawberry looks ama-zing.” He  snapped a quick picture of the menu.

Before he could put the camera away, Nyx had already ordered and paid for their shakes. One strawberry and one mango. Contrary to what Crowe liked to tell Libertus, he could be a gentleman. Especially when there were cute blonds involved. Prompto let his camera hang around his neck. He squinted at Nyx from behind his boxy glasses and didn’t seem to notice the cashier staring at his (lack of) shorts. “Speedy. Well, I’ll just get it next time, then…”

Bold, if not a bit presumptuous. But that was the kind of thing that unfortunately worked for Nyx.

They sat by the window, and Prompto kept twitching for his camera as people walked by. He got a shot of some kids in their high school uniforms, then asked, “So uh. Why did you join the… Kingsglaive?”

Nyx didn’t pay attention to the way his fingers toyed with the fringe on his shorts. Nope. Guy had nice legs though. “Well,” he tried to think of a more delicate way to put it, but didn’t come up with anything. Guy’d asked. If he couldn’t handle the answer, best to know now, probably. “Why does anybody join the military? Grew up in Galahd.”

That seemed to explain everything to Prompto. He toyed with the subdued black leather wristband he wore. Nyx frowned. The black stuck out, given his screaming outfit, but he hadn’t noticed. Then, if Prompto had some connection to the King—still. Strange.

“Guess that makes sense. Sorry, shouldn’t have pried…” Prompto said.

Could have been worse. At least he seemed to get it, unlike most of the Insomnians. Outlanders were good that way. Given that the Outlands were all either already swallowed up by the Empire, or one step away from it… Same story, across all of what had once been Lucis. Soon, they’d probably have an influx of new Glaives.

Their milkshakes arrived, thick and sweating in their glasses, and Prompto lit up like one of the signs in Insomnia’s city center. He hid his face behind the camera and asked, muffled by the plastic, “Can I get a picture of you? And the milkshakes?”

“…Why not?”

Nyx held up the two milkshakes, obliging, and thought maybe it was worth it when Prompto flushed at him. “You can have a copy after I develop them… I’ll just have to find somewhere to do it… Man, it sucks—I had my own darkroom before.”

Not sure why he’d need a picture of himself and some milkshakes, but Prompto looked happy and maybe he could give it to Crowe just to prove he’d actually gone on a date, or whatever this was. “Here,” Nyx said, feeling like the least smooth person in the world.

(Growing up in the Glaive would do that to a person: surrounded by people like Crowe and Drautos and poor Pelna, who couldn’t even land a blind date.)

“Oh yeah, I’ll definitely come to your yard,” Prompto chirped, as he took the milkshake.

Halfway, his hands stalled and his freckled skin went bright with a flush. He fumbled his drink and only barely kept his grip on the slippery glass.

Nyx frowned at him. “My yard?” He had no idea what yards had to do with milkshakes, but he guessed it was some kind of sex thing from the mortified way Prompto hid his face after plopping the shake on the table.

“It’s a song,” he said, and then laughed, looking back up with a wicked glint in his—blue?—eyes. “An amazing one.”

Definitely a sex thing. He’d have to listen to it, so that next time he could tease the hell out of him. Seemed like he’d be a fun target. Prompto slurped up about half his shake in one go, crazy guy. Nyx was a bit slower—enough cases of brain freeze would teach a person. Contrary to popular belief, he could learn new tricks.

Sure enough, a moment later, Prompto clutched at his skull, face screwing up like he’d been stabbed. ��Slow it down, hot stuff,” Nyx said around his straw.

“So. Many. Regrets,” Prompto moaned, but a second later he was back at it.

Well, Nyx couldn’t really fault him. The milkshakes were amazing. Cold and barely liquid: just ice cream with a bit of fruit mixed in. He really did love this place. Crowe used to take him and Libertus here all the time, when training was particularly tough. “All right, I’ll bite. Why would a mechanic want to go into politics?”

After a long pause where Prompto whined through the consequences of finishing his shake, Prompto finally answered, “Well, like, in school I was always really interested in it? My adopted dad… He’d had a falling out with the King because of immigration policy, y’know? So I got curious why, especially when my crazy uncle would come to visit and tell me about their awesome adventures from the good ol’ days. You know Reggie and Clarus and Cor and my dad? And so I got super curious, because they sounded like such good friends?”

Crazy uncle? And was Reggie supposed to be the King? This was getting more interesting by the minute, and not in the sexy way, but in the oh shit was this actually work-related kind of way, which would be awful. Shitting where you ate just made things complicated. “Sure. Just real quick. Your crazy uncle is…?”

“Cor. He always came to visit me. I guess he was the one who convinced my dad to adopt me,” Prompto shrugged like that wasn’t a revelation at all, but Nyx hadn’t gotten to where he was without being able to read the air. This was way bigger than Prompto probably knew. “So anyway, I wanted to know why immigration was something that could break up the strongest friendship I’d ever heard of? So I went down the politicks wormhole in school, and… Well. Started talking big about how if there were more Outlanders in politicks… More people who look like… well, me, that maybe things might change a bit? But I said it too loud, and my dad was all like ‘that’s a great idea, sonny, now yer fired and off to Insomnia with you, bwahaha.’ Can you believe it? Evil laugh and everything.”

Prompto’s face was calm, at odds the animation in his voice, complete with a telltale Leide twang when he mimicked his father. Nyx was sure there was more there—Prompto’s blond hair wasn’t damning in itself, but he sure as hell didn’t look Insomnian—but he wasn’t gonna ask. Not his business. “I think your dad might have been on to something,”said Nyx, then finished up his shake before he could really stick his foot in his mouth.

Prompto sighed. “Well, I’m here now. And my sister said that if I ended up sleeping in an on-fire dumpster, she’d convince him to let me come home. So. There’s that!” He smiled. Then glanced at his phone. Sighed again. “This has been super cool… Sorry about rambling. But I kind of have to meet my new landlord before four… Mind if I drop you home?”

“Nah. I live a few blocks away. I can walk. It’ll give me time to think of what to tell my boss.”

“…Your boss?”

“I jumped out of a ship against orders earlier,” he shrugged, and as Prompto’s eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to ask a question, Nyxsaid, “You’ve got my number. Once you get settled, you wanna do this again?”

Prompto leaned over the table, close enough Nyx could see that his eyes were definitely blue. “Like a date?”

There it was. Out in the open. It was a relief. Nyx had no idea how to do this shit. It wasn’t like he’d ever—”Yeah,” he said, “Like a date. So once you get set up, we’ll work out the details. And I’ll see about getting you an audience with the King.”

“That’d… be super amazing. Wow, Cindy’ll never believe this. Wow.” They both stood, and once they got out onto the street, Prompto launched—hugged Nyx quick and bright.  “I’m really, really looking forward to it.”

Nyx clasped him briefly, before Prompto rocketed off just as quick as he came on. “I’ll see you soon,” he called, as Prompto threw himself into the car. And then he was gone.

The walk home was shorter than he remembered. He’d meant to call Drautos, but all he could do was think about Prompto’s pretty legs, infectious smile, bright attitude, freckles. And when he got home, he found that Prompto’d already sent him a text: about fifty smiley emojis.

He told himself to shower before answering—

Except he sent of a “drive safe” before he even got his jacket off. Now, to find out what yards and milkshakes had to do with each other.

[crownoyami]

Broken Down Blessing

Pairing: Sam/Gabriel

 Warnings/Tags: Dancer!Gabriel, Mechanic!Sam, Mentions of homophobia and violence

 Prompts Used: Aesthetic

 AO3 URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670689

 Summary: Gabriel’s boss is going to kill him. Not only was he running late to work but his car broke down. After seeing the mechanic who would be working on his car, however, Gabriel doesn’t mind is bad luck after all.

 Authors Note: I would really like to expand on this one, make it into a full story but I really don’t have the time right now. Right now, I’m placing it as a one-shot,

  @gabriel-monthly-challenge, @archangelsanonymous, @revwinchester, @archangel-with-a-shotgun,  @archangelgabriellives, @warlockwriter  @ttttrickster.

 Broken Down Blessing

 His boss was going to kill him.

 It wasn’t his fault, he had been driving to work on time when the engine made a strange sound. Not wanting to chance going on the highway he had decided to take the back roads to work, while it would be longer he wouldn’t have to drive as fast in case something happened. One large pothole he didn’t see later and whatever had been rattling under the hood completely let go. It was only by his quick thinking that he was able to make his way to the side of the road and not end up in the ditch.

 What should have been a quick call to Triple-A soon turned into waiting for half an hour, where he had to explain to someone over the phone what was wrong with his car. Like he knew, he wasn’t a mechanic, the most he knew about cars was how to drive and to check the fluids every couple weeks. The call for the tow truck was thirty minutes ago, and he was well past late at that point. Looking at his phone which was on its last legs, the battery blinking at him, Gabriel wondered if he could claim his phone died before he could call into work.

 It wasn’t worth it.

 Sucking it up, the blond dialed out the number for his boss, one of the few people who he had to answer to on a daily basis. He was right, Kali had not been happy to hear that he wouldn’t be able to make it to practice. He could thank his lucky stars that his face was already on the posters or she would have replaced him in a heartbeat. Sending a silent prayer of thanks that she didn’t want to go through the effort of finding a new face for the male lead, Gabriel said his goodbyes before hanging up his phone just in time to see the screen fade to black.

 He really needed a new phone with a half-decent battery life.

 Now stuck on the side of the road, Gabriel leaned against the side of his broken down car while he waited for the tow truck, hopeful they would have enough room to lug his ass or at least have a phone he could use to call someone to come and get him. What felt like three hours later, the blond saw the truck that would hopefully be his savor coming down the stretch of road. Once the truck pulled over to the side of the road, Gabriel got a look at who was driving. The man was older probably in his mid to late fifties, his brown hair mostly hidden under a ballcap with the company logo on it.

 “Let me guess, rattling noise and then it stopped?”

 Nodding, Gabriel watched as the man jumped out of his truck, walking over to his car and easily releasing the hood before going to the front and popping it open. Gabriel didn’t know what he was expecting, some magical steam to come up where there hadn’t been any before, but the man just hummed for a minute and then closed the hood, walking back to the truck he had parked in front of the broken down car to start pulling chains from the truck to the car.

 “It’s a common issue for this make and model. Once I get her back to the garage I’ll have one of the boys fix her up in no time. Shouldn’t take more than another hour once we get there, are you riding with me or is someone coming for you?”

 Watching as the man easily slipped the chains where they needed to go and switching the car into neutral, Gabriel answered. “It'd be great if I could ride with you back, my phone died while I was waiting for Triple-A to pick up the damn line.”

 The man huffed a laugh at that, hitting the switch to have his car pulled slowly onto the back of the tow truck. “Yeah, those bastards make you wait, probably in hopes that you find your own way and they don’t have to pick up the bill. Go sit in the truck if you want, this will only take another minute and then we’ll head out.”

 Since he already had his wallet and dead phone in his pocket, Gabriel did as instructed and hopped up the steep step to sit in the truck. It was clean, though there were a few clean rags that he could see behind the seat, Gabriel noticed how everything seemed tidy inside. There was the clinging smell of oil and metal but overall it was comfortable. Only a few minutes later the man opened the driver's side door and got in himself, turning the ignition and easily pulling onto the road.

 “Name’s Bobby, by the way, I called ahead, one of my boys is just finishing up his current job and will fix you up once we get there.”

 The ride was done mostly in silence, Gabriel while pissed at the situation, calmed down during the trip which was a lot closer than he was expecting. As they pulled into the lot there was the constant sound of a workshop, metal, and equipment, the smell of oil and grease wafted through the air, but Gabriel merely breathed it in. As the bay doors opened the blond nearly choked on his breath. There was a man shirtless with a rag tucked in the back of his pants, his arm was up on the hood of the car, as he dropped the hood down the muscles on his back flexed slightly, and Gabriel wondered if he could get away with breaking his car more often if this was the vision he would see.

 “Sam!” Called out the older man who had apparently stopped the truck and was making his way to the tall shirtless one. Gabriel didn’t know if he should get out of the truck, but a few seconds later Bobby was back inside, it only took a few minutes for the truck to line up and deposit his car right where the previous one the shirtless god had been working on had been. Jumping out of the truck once it was once again parked, Gabriel, followed Bobby into the office, trying and failing to catch another glimpse of the man who had literally made him forget to breathe.

 “Shouldn’t take too long, Sam will have it straightened out. Now, I do have some papers I need you to sign and I can do up the bill now if you like, though if you wanna wait until Sam’s done his inspection…”

 Gabriel shivered, there were a lot of things he would like this Sam to inspect. Shrugging, he nodded toward the desk which had a few papers and an older looking computer hooked up. “Nah you said it was a common issue, right? No sense in wasting time.”

 Bobby smiled slightly for a second, right before he pulled out a few forms, taking a seat behind the desk and typing on the computer while checking off boxes. It took about ten minutes for the paperwork to be done, being a new customer Gabriel had to fill out his information. Once the bill was settled, which Gabriel noticed was reasonably priced, the blond found himself sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs waiting for Sam to be done with his car alone as Bobby had been called out for another tow.

 Thirty minutes total from when they arrived at the place the previously shirtless god came into the office, this time with a tight black muscle shit pulled over his sculpted chest. Standing the second he saw the taller man, Gabriel looked up until he caught the other’s gaze. The man was huge, easily over six feet and even more gorgeous up close. Now Gabriel could see those hazel eyes, could see the sparks of blue and green and brown all mixed in together, and they were beautiful.

 Gabriel had never been one to back down from what he wanted, but for a second he wondered if perhaps the man in front of him was a bit ‘too good to be true’. He had dated people like that before, who looked like they belonged in Heaven only to find out they were definitely going downstairs when they passed. As the tall man smiled showing a bit of a dimple, however, Gabriel found himself unable to care.

 “Hey, your car is ready for you if you want to follow me out back.”

 Even his voice was perfect.

 “Sure thing, I take it you’re Sam, right?”

 Gabriel followed behind the mechanic, keeping a couple paces away so he could ogle the man. He was unable to decide which view he liked better, coming or going when they were in front of his car and he had to tear his eyes away from the jean-covered ass in front of him at the sound of the other’s voice. Sam was watching him with a faint blush on his cheeks, but he didn’t seem disgusted. With his profession, Gabriel learned early on how to recognize the signs of a homophobe. While it wasn’t strictly true to all male dancers, Gabriel knew the stigma that all men in his profession were gay, and not everyone was accepting of that fact.

 Mentioning what he did for a living sometimes ended up with a busted lip and cracked ribs, if you didn’t know what body language to look for.

 “I left your keys in the ignition, Bobby told me that you already settled the bill… let us know if you have any more trouble?”

 The last bit was spoken as more of a question, Sam’s cheeks still a slight tinge of pink while he licked his lips. Humming, Gabriel let his eyes roam over the exposed skin of the taller man, knowing that he was being watched this time. “Oh, I’ll be certain to stop by if I need anything, promise.”

 Sam let go a slightly nervous chuckle but for a brief second Gabriel thought he saw the other eye him up. As Sam offered his large hand, Gabriel was certain to reach into his back pocket for a second before grasping it. He had taken out his card just in case he got to meet the tall man, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.

 “Now that I saw you at work, maybe you would like to see mine? It’s good for one admission if you’re interested.” Getting into his car after letting the larger man’s hand go, Gabriel, winked at Sam before turning the ignition and slowly pulling away. In the rear-view mirror, he watched as Sam looked down at the slip of paper in his hand. It was a ticket, one of the few he was given to pass out to family, on the front was an image of him front and center along with the date and time for opening night.

 Watching Sam grin for a second before tucking the paper into the front of his jeans, Gabriel hoped he read the other right and he didn’t just waste the spot on someone who wouldn’t show. With a smirk, Gabriel made his way to the studio, if he was going to impress his mechanic he was going to need to put in a few hours of practice. Maybe his car breaking down wasn’t such a bad thing after all.  

 P.S. If you want to keep up to date on my writing add me to Facebook, Tumbler, Twitter or Instagram as CrowNoYami ;-) Also, if you want to see what I’m reading (I always review so you know what you’re getting into) I’m on Goodreads as well, the same name as always.

[zenosanalytic]

Solo Bouno

So I saw Solo on Tuesday and it’s a Good movie; not great, didn’t make a Huge impression on me, but Fun and Enjoyable and certainly something I’d happily watch once it makes it to cable, with a few quibbles.

The Good:

The acting was (mostly)good

The characters were well-written

The Dialogue was fun, funny, and unforced

While the Plot had Issues, it flowed well and felt natural, and there was nothing really eye-rolling in it.

All the technical aspects -Design, Cinematography, sound work, editing- were Proficient

Establishes the stakes quickly and effectively

Chewie is Great

Lando is Great

L3-37(yes, they REALLY named the robot l33t) is Great

The Quibbles:

It was a VERY Generic origin story

They didn’t set up themes they needed to, and didn’t really deliver a good payoff on the themes they did set up

Related to this, there are important character beats and payoffs that are never really setup(or “Planted”).

It could have done better with its female cast. I’ll get into this a bit more under spoilers

Alden Ehrenreich NEVER STOPS SMILING! I mean, that’s an exaggeration obvsl, but it was REALLY noticeable to me. IDK if this is an artifact of the editing, the directing, or Ehrenreich’s choices about the character(tbf, Han is BSing people A LOT in this film, and the smile was Ford’s BSing expression so...), and it wasn’t really grating or anything but, by the end, it did take me out of the story a bit.

Glover does Williams’ accent for Lando a few times and, while it isn’t bad, I liked his take on the character better without it.

The writing doesn’t really do enough to sell the second job and, while all the action which constitutes it is Fine, I kinda grumbled at how thin and absolutely not convincing that bit was.

Ok I think that’s it. On to my lengthier Spoiler-Quibbles:

Solo falls into the common prequel/origin story trap of trying to explain everything about a character. This is always a bad idea but, with this movie and this cast, it is a particularly Horrible idea. Han, Chewie, and Lando are the perfect sorts of characters for a series of matinee-type adventure movies -think Indiana Jones- and Solo, by shoving his whole backstory into one film and leaving him practically where we find him in Star Wars, really, really, really, makes that unlikely. An added negative of that is it takes what the OS establishes as years -maybe decades- old relationships between Han, Chewie, and Lando and turns them into a one-job acquaintance. That was a Very Bad Idea.

Han starts off speaking Wookie(albeit badly), and I feel like that choice leaves a lot of potential comedy&bonding on the table.

They really misuse Thandie Newton and her character, Val. She dies practically as soon as she’s introduced, and in a way that doesn’t feel honest to the character or situation. If they’d just put the bombs on a timer rather than a detonator this would have been less bad

This is compounded by how little mourning and upset Beckett, her lover and longtime partner, is allowed to displayed over her death(oh, and the deaths of his entire crew. Oh, and the loss of the future they’d planned together).

Half of Beckett’s initial crew disappears between scenes, and this is never explained. It really isn’t a big deal and I didn’t even realize it until thinking about the movie just now, but it seems like kind of a significant continuity error. Maybe they die, and I’m just not remembering it?

This actually could have worked, though, if the movie were a bit more willing to invest in characters other than Han. Later in the movie Beckett betrays Han over what to do with the Hyperfuel they’ve stolen. If he’d been shown as really angry and upset over these deaths, or if he’d been shown to be the sort willing to sacrifice lives for the score, then all of this stuff could have tied into a really neat ambiguous antihero narrative for him. Unfortunately, he’s consistently shown to be sentimental, friendly, even fatherly. He only gets visibly angry at Han once and only for an instant; isn’t angry at the Cloud Riders at all, even though they’re responsible for the deaths of Val and Rio; and only once comes even close to suggesting a score matters more than their lives, and only does that right after Val and Rio’s deaths. As a result, his betrayal feels detached from the character we’ve known up to that point. And what’s his motivation? The life he planned to live once his debts were cleared is gone and, by stealing the Hyperfuel for himself at the end, he’s guaranteed to live under a bounty for the rest of his life. It just doesn’t fit.

The same arc-confusion plagues Clarke’s Qi’ra. She also betrays Han in the end -maybe out of a desire to protect him, maybe out of pragmatism, but most likely from ambition- but the conflict her choice is a solution to is never established. It’s never established that she might be using Han and he’s unwilling to see it. They suggest Qi’ra is morally different from the person Han knew as a kid with(I think?) one passing line of dialogue, but the film doesn’t show anything that’d convince the audience she is, and shows lots of things(like her attempts to hide her brand from Han) which suggest she regrets her current life and wants out, not deeper in. Her making the choice she does thinking it was the best way to protect them both would make sense with the character on the screen(though, given that Han is Beckett’s only living accomplice by the end, it seems more like he’d catch the blame for it too, particularly once Beckett’s dead), but the movie presents it as a power-grab.

There’s a lot of stuff in here that’s either changes to, or taken from, the EU. References like this can be fun, but they’re always a gamble since you’re relying on information from outside the movie which the audience might not be aware of, and thus be confused and annoyed by. The Wookies have, apparently, been forced off their homeworld and enslaved en masse. Darth Maul’s not dead, but rather the head of the Syndicate Qi’ra (literally)belongs to(they even have him pull out the double-headed lightsaber and brandish it while he’s holoing her at the end so people will realize who he is; it’s ridiculous). The Cloud Riders who interrupted their first attempt to steal Hyperfuel turn out to be working with the Rebellion. The last one’s not a HUGE deal, but the others I thought were pretty odd choices.

They give Han a (very generic)rough backstory, but then present him as just a totally unambiguous, noncynical, non-gritty, good guy and softboy. Which, yes, he should have a heart of gold absolutely, but without ambiguity there’s no tension; no concern over what sort of choice he’s going to make. The whole “Rogue with a Heart of Gold” dynamic only works, narratively, when the character is both a Rogue, and kind-hearted to people hanging by a thread. This Solo isn’t really a Rogue; hell, he doesn’t even cheat at poker!

Miscellaneous Spoilers:

They kill off L3 ~halfway through the movie, and I’m ambivalent about it. She dies cheering on an enslaved rebellion she unwittingly started, which fits the character, but I think it would have been more fitting if she’d set it off intentionally, and if she’d died in a more active way; she is shooting at the slavers earlier in that sequence, but during the scene where she’s shot she’s cheering the rebels with her back turned to the danger and gets blind-sided. I mean, just having her get iced while shouting advice, or while looking back to Lando while still fighting, would have been much better. Also, while I didn’t think it was manpainy(Lando is justifiably and visibly upset about it, but that doesn’t become the focus of her death), they do then later strip her harddrive to merge it with the Falcon’s navigation computer, and that sort of direct utilizing of a female-coded character’s death and body to advance the (male-protags’)story didn’t sit right with me in the theater. It’s not handled really terribly or anything, in fact they do it in crisis as a sort of last-resort, but I still kinda |:T’d at it.

Lando has A LOT of capes, and it is Wonderful uwu Also he is an author and possible vlogger, which is Also Wonderful uwu uwu

Erin Kellyman as Enfys Nest has a small but important part, and she makes a big impression with it. We have the whole movie to get to know Han(on top of already liking him from the previous films) and I still found myself more interested in her story and her crew when they revealed their true nature at the end, than with New!Han(who wasn’t really even that bad; I know I’m ragging on Ehrenreich but he did alright with what had to have been an intimidating part). I guess this is also an excellent example of how important Mystique --NOT explaining things; leaving them vague-- can be to character-charisma.

That’s everything I can think of right now. Don’t be fooled by the length of that quibblelist though; it’s absolutely a fun movie and, if you like Star Wars and the Star Wars setting and, if the price of a ticket won’t hurt your wallet, it’s definitely worth seeing. A Fun, Funny, Entertaining, Summer Movie, and a good way to spend an afternoon.

P.S.: Plus, for the more politically minded and spiteful among us(read: Me), it’ll piss off legions of entitled manbabies online who want to get Kathleen Kennedy fired for having the temerity to be a woman while running Star Wars.