#the thoughts are so humongous i just simply had to write this all down

[urlkssknt]

last piece (10)

pairing - nanami kento x fem!gojou!reader x fushiguro toji

genre - parent!au, 8.2k

warnings - alcohol consumption! yuki! children being lost (?)

a/n - i’m so sorry for how long this took me to write, i kept rewriting it because i hated it and i literally got so much inspiration to write now, and i have to get up for work in about 3 hours

masterlist

now playing - cardigan, taylor swift

Satoru doesn’t even notice Kento walk off from the small group as they shout lyrics of a current charting pop song at the top of their lungs. There were too many bodies in the living room, pressing up against each other to follow along to the rhythm of the song. It made the humongous room feel cramped like Nanami’s dorm room, which could only just about fit a single bed and a desk. The blond takes the bitter alcoholic beverage in his hand as his feet manage to drag him away from the large crowd of university students, and make his way to a quieter part of the house. From the dramatic size of the house, it felt like each step was a mile long when in reality they were short steps to an unlit area where the thumping of the music could still be felt and the flashing lights begin to fade to darkness. The blond found himself sat on the large staircase, resting his head against the railing because it felt too heavy to hold up. At least he could no longer feel the longing ache in his chest chipping away at his heart. Nanami sits still for a few minutes, breathing gently to give him space to think. What should he do about Yuuki? Just imagining a rejection brought along another wave of agony, to which the answer was to take a large gulp of the vodka in his hand. The taste was just about manageable to be downed in large mouthfuls. It didn’t help that he hadn’t eaten dinner before coming to Satoru’s party.

“The party isn’t out here,” a voice speaks out clearly and makes Nanami jolt in surprise from the unexpectedness. He came out to the staircase to be alone and drink away the pain numbing his heart. The last thing he expected was someone to invade his privacy.

The fright was short lived as he began to calm down, the organ in his chest no longer racing at an extreme speed. From one look, the man couldn’t pick up any notes of suspicion from the woman, she simply stood there with the dark masking her features skillfully. Nanami sighs loudly as he moves himself to sit up straight. “It’s too loud for me.” There’s annoyance laced with his words as thoughts of Suguru and Satoru forcing him to do shots fled to the front of his mind.

Trying his best, Nanami looked up at the woman speaking at him with a gentle and calm voice. It could have been from how dark the staircase was, the big chandelier wasn’t lit to showcase its grandness. Nanami found it hard to picture the woman standing in front of him at the bottom of the staircase, all he could make out was the colour of her hair and the ensemble of her outfit. She wore a rusted tan trench coat with a dress underneath that ended near towards her calves. “Who are you?” Nanami spoke his thoughts aloud, he didn’t mean to, truly, but curiosity began to grow within him as she set the large duffle bag in her hand down. More questions began to form in his mind as Nanami observed the woman’s actions, to the best of his drunken ability.

The response was short and quick like a sharp inhale of breath. “A girl.”

“I can see that,” Kento could help the snort that leaves him, finding pure amusement at the spoken dull words. The vodka was finally taking full effect and making the tightly-wound up man begin to loosen in the presence of a stranger, allowing him the opportunity to unravel the truest qualities of his personality, parts he’d never show to others. “Are you a stripper?”

If the male had been sober, such crude words would never form against his tongue and be spoken into existence. Not by Nanami at least, maybe by one of his other friends who didn’t mind voicing every unnecessary thought that passed through their mind. The same friends who had the capability of tolerating his unusual stiff personality. No one understands Nanami, the male knew that himself, Satoru and Suguru understood him to an extent, hell even his best friend, Yu Haibara, could try his best to coax the blond into asking a girl for her number. But at the end of the day, Nanami didn’t actually want to ask the girl if she wanted to ‘hang out,’ he just thought she was pretty, simple as. No one understood his innocent intentions and Nanami was okay with that, most times he was anyway. It only really affected him every so often when he would lay on the bed of his cramped dorm room and stare at the ceiling.

“Would it help if I was?” The woman asked as she walked up the stairs, taking a seat on the same step as Nanami. There was a humorous tone lingering in her voice as she asked him the harmless question, choosing to play along with the drunken man to see where it would end up. Within their close distance, Kento swears he could smell a sweet fragrance emitting near her form, it was fresh and light like the beginning of spring when the flowers are freshly bloomed, further coaxing the man to lower his walls down little by little. No other woman had smelt this lovely before, not even Yuuki, Nanami thought to himself. Then the blond found his mind beginning to wander, if this was just her scent, her beauty must be unmatched. A snarky little voice in his head, which almost never spoke, whispered about how lucky Satoru was to be graced with the shining presence of the woman. Just another reason to envy his boisterous white haired acquaintance. Little did Nanami know of the truth surrounding Satoru’s relationship with the woman.

Then he remembered a (secret, unknown) key factor to his eclectic friend’s being despite the hazy fog settling into his mind, blocking the rationale for working to its full extent. It caused Nanami to smile with amusement, a grin similar to a child’s. “You’re not really Satoru’s type, because… You know… He likes men…”

The comment about his friend’s sexuality manages to make the woman laugh, a sweet joyous sound Kento had never heard from someone before, he wasn’t even sure that a laugh could possibly sound as pleasing.

“Y/N,” the woman turns to face Kento again to get another clear look of his face, making eye contact with the pair of brown eyes, “that’s my name.”

Through his blurred vision, Nanami felt entranced by your eyes, the coldness in your stare had the man stilling in an appreciative trance. Kento felt warm under the cold look, as if he were bathing in the sun, he could blame the hot presence on the room full of people but it was cold outside in the stairway, almost chilling. Cold enough for him to shiver in his button-up shirt but it was bearable. A heated intensity grew between the pair as their gazes stayed on each other, Nanami could feel the blush on his cheeks burn with redness from the sudden attention.

“Y/N,” the name rolls off Kento’s tongue naturally even though he had never called it out before. It was a nice name, he thought silently to himself. “You look like a butterfly… Kind of. Not really when I think about it.” Kento couldn’t stop himself from letting out the unnecessary mumblings, he had never experienced ‘word vomit’ as bad as this before. Maybe it was the alcohol or perhaps it was the foreign feeling arising in his chest like a sense of unease, leading up to his head to cause a disorienting sensation.

It was definitely the alcohol taking over all of the blond’s senses and abilities.

The woman stills into a shocked silence, her bright shining eyes widen till her eyebrows are raised so high the skin of her forehead crumples into lines. “What?” She laughs out after a moment, taking in how drunk the blond next to her really was, she underestimated the state of intoxication.

“They’re pretty, your eyes.” Nanami speaks again, more clearly this time with a new found determination of getting his point across.

“Oh.” A burning sensation, identical to the same feeling Nanami was subjected to, grew across her face in the cold staircase. Suddenly it was no longer cold but a sparkling warmth lit her every cell on fire. “Th-thank you.”

Nanami likes the small smile on her face, though he could barely make it out in the darkness, he just knew that it was cute. It made the blond feel good to know that he had a positive effect on someone, that his presence was felt for once.

“I should go,” Nanami says as he gets up by holding the railing of the stairs for support to get him back on his wobbly feet. “I hope I see you again.” And just like that, Nanami somehow manages to make his way down the few steps without tripping over or looking back at the mysterious woman, who he’ll forget from all the alcohol he had consumed in the night. She’ll become a distant memory to him, one that he thinks is only a dream.

The twins were finally going to meet their birth mother, an event that caused an immense amount of anxiety to weigh on Kento's chest, to the point he couldn’t eat nor sleep. The boys were so fixated on you, they had accepted you to fill the role of a mother, and Megumi the role of their brother. It led to the man being consumed with mountains of guilt. He was changing a major part of the twin’s life, disrupting a normalcy which the two boys had just attained after adapting to the new environment Nanami had forced them into. A new home, a new school. Sukuna had been on-edge after learning he wasn’t going to see you again, he had learnt from Megumi that you were both staying with his uncle for a while so there was no way of telling when. Unlike his equally-upset brother, Yuuji allowed the current fate, thinking maybe you and Megumi would come back, and his dad wouldn’t seem as sad anymore. There was no way you could leave them so suddenly, not after telling Yuuji how much you loved him, there was no possible way.

The restaurant was too fancy, its romantic atmosphere being far too inappropriate for a family dinner. There were couples seated in the plush chairs, the tables lined with silk cloths, people were dining and enjoying their time. There was not a single child insight. Kento told himself to suck it up, not the healthiest coping mechanism when he felt like his mind was a second away from breaking. If this is what Yuuki desired and made her feel more comfortable, then so be it. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the first time you made dinner for the boys. The twins wouldn’t stop talking about how you cooked better than him. They definitely ate more greens from your cooking than his. At that moment Kento was sure that his children would rather be in the comfort of your apartment, far too many people sat on a sofa which couldn’t fit them but no one would mind since it felt nicer to be in the presence of family, an animated cartoon playing on the tv that would occupy the children’s attention from beginning to end. Nanami wished that he was at your apartment, your gaze lingering on him when you thought he wouldn’t notice, a certain sense of serenity you provided him.

“She's not my mum,” Sukuna grumbled under his breath after the strange woman was introduced to him and his brother, it made the young child shrink further into his seat, trying to hide himself from the conversation.

Both twins stared at the woman with disbelief. This stranger with nails that resembled talons could not be their mother. Sukuna wouldn’t accept it. No, Y/N was his mum, she would be the only person he would ever acknowledge as a parental figure, not the woman sitting in front of him, who didn’t even spare the young boys a warm smile. Y/N baked him cookies that tasted sweeter than any candy he’s consumed, Y/N kisses his cheek so softly it feels like a feather against his skin, Y/N loves him: Sukuna didn’t know many things at his young age but he did know that Y/N was his mother no matter what. Nothing could change that fact for him, not even the lady sitting across the table who is supposedly his mum.

Not another word is said for a few more minutes, letting an awkward atmosphere develop amongst the group of four. Nanami wasn’t sure if he should say anything more to soften the blow of the sudden news judging from the looks on his children’s faces, Yuuji had never sported such an expressionless face as a boy who wore his heart on his sleeve, his eyes were dull as the younger twin avoided making eye contact with the two adults one the table. On the other hand, Sukuna could feel a plethora of different emotions brewing within him, ranging from a pure red heat simmering in his lower body to a sharp consistent sting ringing in his head, stopping the little boy from thinking clearly.

Yuuki let out an airy yet dark chuckle as she brought her wine glass up to her lips, letting the taste of the red wine sit on her tongue as her eyes avoided looking at the children sitting before her. “Get used to it, kid.” If Yuuki was to be honest, she would express her disinterest in meeting the two pink haired twins. To her, they were a distant memory of her past life that she was trying to run from, an inconvenience that Yuuki put up with to get to her goal of a lavish lifestyle. This dinner, she would get through it in order to secure a stable hand in Nanami’s finances.

“I hate you!” The anger began to flame inside the five year old, alarming his father, who had never experienced this side of his sweet Sukuna. Sure Sukuna came off as grumpy and rude to others but not to his father, “I want Y/N! And Megs!”

The clacking of Kento’s utensils halted at the mention of your name. He sighed, eyes closing for a brief moment. Before Kento could remind his son of the setting they are in, that they needed to use their indoor voices, the woman sitting beside him was quick to snap from her own anger.

“Then go to her, see if we care!” Yuuki spits harshly, reacting to the situation as quickly as possible, not taking a moment to realise the defeated hurt look on Sukuna’s face.

“You’re a bitch!” Sukuna nearly screamed at the red haired woman as he could feel himself become aggravated in his seat from Yuuki’s glare like her cold stare was burning him, before taking hold of Yuuji's hand and running off. Yuuji didn’t protest against Sukuna’s sudden actions, he felt like he understood Sukuna’s current feelings were similar to his.

The restaurant became a scene of a nightmare for the twins, a situation where they needed to run away in order to be safe, they needed you. Why weren’t you here? Sukuna thought to himself, he needed you so badly. The oldest twin wanted to do nothing more but to cry endlessly, it all felt a little too much. So the pair of twins clung to one another with tight grips as they ran down a street they couldn’t recognise.

“What is wrong with you?!” Kento seethes under his breath in complete distress at the fact of his children running from the dinner table suddenly. “They’re your children.” He reminds Yuuki aggressively, her blood ran through the veins of the young boys, she couldn’t erase that fact no matter how hard she tried.

Yuuki's face adorned a bored expression as the unraveling scene didn’t faze her in the slightest. A few children crying and throwing a tantrum wouldn’t crack her strong demeanour that she’s worked so hard to perfect. Maybe she should’ve tried to console the two brats so it would throw Nanami off the scent of her true intentions. There was only one option she could pursue thanks to her offspring for causing a scene; put the blame on Nanami. “Then why do they want another woman as their mother?”

The venomous words ring in Nanami’s ear like deafening white noise that drowned out the rest of idle chatter of the people in the restaurant. Suddenly the brown man began to feel like his younger self, a part of himself that he had thought he had forgotten, feelings Nanami desperately tried so hard to ignore. All the years of hurt and betrayal caught up to him again in his adult life, as if it were a cycle he could never escape. To be honest, Nanami had only put up with Yuuki again out of respect for his past friend, he knew that Haibara would have wanted the blond to be cordial with his sister despite all the wrongdoings she had committed against Nanami. They shared children together after all, but to Nanami, the statement made him wary and waved in his confidence. He would never call himself the ‘best father in the world’ but he knew what entails to be the best mother, immediately he envisions you trying your hardest to stay strong in front of Megumi, in front of everyone.

Kento couldn’t bring himself to react further, neutralising his features to an expression he wears in business meetings. People were already peering about the commotion Sukuna caused by yelling a profanity, that Nanami had no idea where Sukuna could’ve learnt it from, across the table, Kento couldn’t afford to lose his temper in such a place with so many eyes. His fists clenched in anger, knuckles turning white as the blunt nails of his fingers dig deep into the skin of his palm.

In that moment, where his children had run away to distance themselves from him all because of a leach, Kento swore to never let Yuuki back into his life, this would be where he finally cuts ties with the woman.

“You left us.” Nanami chose to remind the short haired woman of her past actions, he had done nothing wrong, he was not the problem - she was.

Before storming out of the restaurant to search for his twins, Kento made sure that he would not be paying for the meal, already knowing Yuuki wouldn’t have enough to pay for the overly-expensive meals. There was an inkling feeling looming around in the back of his head, Yuuki was never thinking about her children, just the number in Nanami’s bank account - the thought he was so afraid of, yet so sure wasn’t true. Embarrassment couldn’t begin to describe the dropping of his stomach and deep ache in his chest. You never would have treated Nanami like this, you don’t even treat Toji in this degrading manner despite all he’s done to you. Did Nanami deserve this? Had he committed such an atrocious sin in his past life that he’s making up for it in this current one?

In the street, there were no signs of the two little boys. Not a spot of strawberry blond peeking around as Nanami looked all around the street hoping, praying that the boys hadn’t actually run off and were waiting outside. How stupid he was to have a thought like that. Panic begins to settle within his bones as he realised that his children are missing in a massive city where there are people with ill intentions lurking around every corner.

“Fuck,” Kento curses as the worry begins to plague the thoughts running through his mind. Where should he go look for the twins first? They both left together so they must be together, or had they split up? Were they okay? Were they hungry? He couldn’t think straight no matter how hard he tried to, Nanami couldn’t do this by himself.

Fishing through his jacket pocket for his hands, with shaky hands, his fingers scroll through all his endless contacts hoping to find a certain name. If this had been any other day and a completely different scenario, Nanami would hesitate to call you, his finger would hover over the ‘call’ button on the glass screen. But he had no time to waste as every second that passed was another second that Sukuna and Yuuji weren’t safe with him.

Nervously, Nanami brings the phone up to his ear and waits as patiently as he could with the dial tone rings in his ear. “Y/N?” His voice isn’t steady as he hears the sharp intake of breath you take, “Y/N! I-I don’t know what to do!” The man begins to ramble as he walks down the street the restaurant was on, “I made a mistake..”

“Nanami, are you okay?” You ask gently, there’s a rustling noise coming from your end, Nanami assumed he had caught you as you were working.

“I lost them, angel, I-I don’t know where they went!” Nanami pauses in his steps in the busy street as he feels tears brim in eyes from frustration, “I’m so scared, I lost them.”

“Take a deep breath.” Your voice is steady and calm through the phone but it doesn’t help Nanami for the first time.

The male scoffs at the ridiculousness of your suggestion, “breathing isn’t going to help.” He doesn’t mean to be inconsiderate and rude, truly he doesn’t, especially when it’s the first time he’s heard your voice in weeks.

“Take a breath,” you repeat again more sternly, this time it actually makes the male listen to your words, and takes a deep inhale to fill his lungs completely before emptying them of oxygen again. “I’ll come and help you find them, just- just ask around if anyone has seen them, I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Nanami doesn’t respond but he hears the array of noises coming from your side. It sounded like you were rushing through something, he hoped that he hadn’t caught you in a bad time but at the same time, he needed you with him.

“We’ll find the boys Kento, I promise,” your tone sounds hopeful and for a moment Kento believes you.

Following your advice, Nanami walks back to the restaurant to speak to the waiter who let people in, hoping that maybe the man had seen which direction the children had gone in. He also gave the waiter his business card in case the twins do turn up at the restaurant magically, though Nanami realised that the likelihood of it happening was scarily small. Waiting for you to show up was eating him with anxiety, Kento felt as if he could be utilising this time in searching for the pink haired boys instead of being patient and alone with the vicious thoughts in his head.

“Kento!” The said man turns his head around in the direction his name is being called, from the voice alone he knew that it was you calling out for him.

Standing in the street, Kento stands still as you approach him in a fast manner like you were dying to see him again, part of him hopes you were. Once you were close enough to him, you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around Kento’s frame despite the man being taller and bigger than you. It catches him off guard for a second, to have you so close to him again, before Kento realises, his body acts on instinct and pulls you closer into him. He missed you so much.

“Are you okay?” You ask him genuinely, hoping that he will say ‘yes’ because you weren’t sure what you would do if he was hurting. It was your first time seeing each other properly, it would pain you to know if he hadn’t been okay over the past few weeks.

“I’m okay now,” Kento was telling the truth, with you in his arms, he truly was fine and no longer scared. You calmed the storm brewing in his thoughts, his heart wasn’t beating dangerously fast from nervousness. The blond man holds you against his chest for another moment longer before letting you go.

He needed to find Yuuji and Sukuna, Kento wouldn’t rest until he could see the dimples of his children’s faces and hold their small, warm hands between his larger ones. The two of you decide to call Satoru and Suguru so there could be more ground covered in the city. Of course, Yuuji and Sukuna are only five so they couldn’t have gone far with their little legs but they could be anywhere in the city. Each person walked around the neighbouring areas of the restaurant in hopes of running into the pink haired twins, asking passerbyers if they had seen the two boys at all during the night. Most people responded with a simple ‘no’ and ‘I hope you find them.’

You continued your search by deciding to go into a convenience store that was a few streets away, hoping to talk to the employee that was working about the current situation and asking if they had seen anything. When you walked into the store the last thing you expected to head was a small but energetic ‘mummy.’ Your head whipped around to the fill area of the store as fast as lightning.

“Yuuji?!” You couldn’t believe your own eyes for a second as the small boy ran over to you as quickly as he could manage. A giggle leaves Yuuji’s mouth when you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, shielding him from the rest of the world, letting him know he is safe now. “Oh baby!”

Yuuji couldn’t help the sob that racked through his entire body as the whole night of horror had finally caught up with him. Gently, you rubbed a hand across his back, trying to soothe his cries. You wait until Yuuji is just hiccuping before speaking to him.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask whilst inspecting the small child for any signs or indications of injuries. Yuuji shakes his head as you wipe at the tears across his cheeks gently, he then tells you how he came into the store with his brother because they were both hungry. They couldn’t buy anything since neither of them had any money as they didn’t anticipate running out of a restaurant.

“Yuuji, do you know where Sukuna went?” The tone in your voice becomes slightly serious without you being aware, you just couldn’t feel at ease knowing Sukuna was still alone outside.

“D-don’t k-know,” Yuuji manages to speak as his bottom lip still trembles as if he were about to cry again, another wave of tears begin to flood his face at the thought of you being angry with him.

“We’ll find him, okay?” You try your best to reassure the worried boy, your heart hurts so much to know that they were upset. Picking Yuuji up into your arms, the pink haired boy snuggled himself into the crook of your neck as he clung to you like a koala bear.

You begin to call Kento again to let him know you have found Yuuji but to your dismay he doesn’t pick it up. So you call him again, hoping this time he will answer and he doesn’t. This was weird, you thought to yourself, you knew that Nanami had his ringer on so he should be able to hear your calls. Could his phone be dead? No he had told you previously that he still had some charge in it when he suggested to split up. You couldn’t help but worry that something had happened in the time you found Yuuji. You settled for sending him a text as you began to walk back to the restaurant.

Meanwhile, Nanami had been directed to a park that was a short distance away from the destination of the restaurant. A couple had told him that they say a boy walking by himself in that direction so it could possibly be his son. Nanami wasn’t going to miss any chances. The park is quiet with the darkness of the night sky, there were a few people walking around and that heightened Kento’s worries, maybe someone had taken his son.

“Sukuna, Yuuji!” He calls out loudly, not caring if he looked insane from his messy hair where he was running his fingers through the strands from frustration and the red in his eyes.

Nanami walks around the park for a few more minutes, it’s gotten much colder now. He hoped that his boys were okay in their jackets otherwise they could risk catching a cold. Still calling out the names of his children, Nanami notices a climbing apparatus that looks like it was built for children. He knew how much his own kids loved playing in the park so he felt drawn to walk over. Just in case, Kento tells himself as his shoes meet the bark of the ground. He looked around trying to see if his twins were truly here but it seemed like it was a futile attempt.

Kento sighs loudly as he closes his eyes for a moment, “where did you boys go?” He asks aloud as he stands at the bottom of one of the slides in the park.

There’s nothing but sounds of the wind filling Kento’s ears until the sudden noise of squeaking hits him. Kento is still in his shoes as he stares at the mouth of the slide expecting some kind of animal to come out but when he sees that it was Sukuna coming down, the man felt as if his prayers had been answered.

“Daddy! You found me!” Sukuna exclaimed once he reached the end of the slide, jumping off to quickly run over to the blond man, who stood stoically watching with an intense gaze. “I knew you would find me!”

Kento couldn’t find any words to say when he picked his son up into his arms, almost not believing that it truly was Sukuna he was holding. His phone begins to ring but Kento chooses to ignore it for the time being. He had found Sukuna!

“Do you know how worried I was?” Is all Nanami manages to say with his hoarse throat. His hands gripped onto his son tight with the intention of never letting him go again. Maybe he should invest in one of those child-leashes that people use to stop their children from running off. It doesn’t make it any better than Sukuna had a grin plastered on his face, finding a sense of amusement from his dad’s misery.

“Let’s go to Y/N and find Yuuji,” the father chooses to ignore the way Sukuna’s eyes light up at the mention of your name.

As the two began to walk out of the park hand in hand together, Kento remembered his phone ringing, he used his free hand to check the notification. Finally, he feels at ease when he reads your text.

Y/N L/N💙: I’ve got Yuuji, we’re heading back to the restaurant.

With the twins finally safe from any horrid possible scenarios, you could finally relax and allow yourself to calm down from the constant stress you endured for longer than necessary. You thought it would be best for the identical boys to stay with you for the night, just to reassure them of any dark thoughts looming in the back of their minds. In an ideal world, you would have sat all the three boys down with Nanami by your side and explained how families are not restricted to a person’s DNA but to the willingness to nurture them, to love and care for them at all times. Instead, you were left alone once the late hours of the night began to creep in, you’d blame the sudden hectic scare for your lack of exhaustion but it wouldn’t be right. Worrying over the blond father consumed your mind, you considered the possibility that he and Yuuki had gone home together to resolve whatever issues they had occurring between them. Tossing over to the other side of the large bed, you pulled the blanket up to your neck and wound your eyes shut, hoping for sleep to overtake you and bless you with a dream.

It seemed that there were other plans in store for you when the familiar sound of your phone began to ring in the silence, loudly interrupting the thoughts in your mind. You weren’t sure whether or not you should feel thankful for the inconvenience when you read the contact name of the person calling you. Nanami Kento. The world must harbour an infinite amount of hate for you to have the man plaguing your mind and clouding your ability to sleep call you for unknown reasons. Yet you didn’t have the heart to ignore the ringing of your phone, even if there was a possibility that Nanami was calling to deliver news of rekindling with Yuuki.

You accept the call as soon as your eyes become adjusted to the sudden light infiltrating the sense of your sight. “Nanami, are you okay?-“

“Excuse me,” the voice was unfamiliar to your ears, it caught you off guard for a moment, as a worried tension slowly began to manifest within you, “do you think you’d be able to pick up this gentleman?”

The sickening worry grew in your stomach with every passing second as different thoughts, scenarios, and possibilities of Kento’s well-being played out to be eaten up by your insistent gnawing mind. You managed to steady yourself enough to ask a question to the other person on the phone. “Is, is he okay?”

In the background, you could make out some sort of loud commotion occurring as the man on the phone takes a small pause after a sharp inhale of breath. “He’s alone and extremely drunk and we will close soon.”

Relief floods over you, the high tension in your muscles releases. Could you be considered as a bad person for finding alleviation at the fact that Kento was alone and not with Yuuki? If you were eligible for the trait, you simply didn’t care. Not at that moment anyway.

“I’ll come get him.”

There was a wool cardigan resting on the chair by the dressing table that you picked up and slipped on so you could hide yourself from the cold. As quietly as possible, you check on the boys residing in Satoru’s other guest bedroom, they were all sleeping peacefully beside each other as if the bed was their own and they had been here before. No one else was awake, thankfully, so you were able to slip out of the house without raising a single question. You were very surprised with yourself at how you managed to exit the house without alerting anyone of your presence, apart from the men situated around the perimeter who watched you leave silently. The roads were quiet as you intensely listened out for every direction the female voice on your phone would instruct as you traveled to the bar Nanami was in. It was close to the centre of the city but the time of night would have tricked anyone into thinking they were driving through a small quiet town, where everyone was asleep. You had yawned twice on the drive, the darkness signalling your brain to go to sleep but your determination to pick Nanami up safely overpowered it. It was easy to find the bar amongst the street as the said blond man was standing outside with another person holding him up.

The familiar white car pulling up the pavement catches Nanami’s attention instantly, he could spot the white Audi from anywhere, even in his drunken state where he felt like the world was spinning, much faster than usual. He waits a moment to confirm his thoughts, is it really you driving the car or did he drink himself insane and is just imagining a woman who’s a carbon copy of you? Nanami’s eyes focus, to the best of his abilities, on the woman approaching him in a quick rushed manner. It only takes his brain a few seconds to realise that the woman speaking to the young bartender, asking for his help in aiding the drunk man into the car to get him home, was indeed really you. Of course you would come and get him like the damsel in distress he is, you’re so kind and thoughtful, no wonder his kids loved you. It brought about feelings of warmth and comfort in Kento’s chest, making a small smile stretch along his lips as he continued to stare at you, taking in every minute detail he possibly could.

“That’s my girlfriend,” Nanami’s words slur together to bring a form of a sentence that’s understandable to the bartender holding him up, the younger man lets out a small awkward chuckle from the discomfort of being so close to a drunk stranger that he could smell the liquor on Nanami’s breath.

If the small odd comment threw you off, you somehow managed to keep your composure as you asked the bartender if he could help you with seating Nanami in your car. Your willpower and determination wasn’t enough to stop the burning of your cheeks, hoping it would go unnoticed under the streetlight. You held up the blond man from the other side so there was less chance of him falling to the ground and hitting his face against the concrete.

Nanami doesn’t make a fuss as you lean over him to buckle the seatbelt into place, his gaze was burning and obvious, focused on the side of your face he could see. Had your cheek become slimmer all of a sudden or was his memory failing him? Regardless, all his thoughts turn towards you yet again, only amplified by a large factor. You caused Kento to become clueless. All he found himself wanting to do was please you, appreciate you, worship you. And he would if you let him, he'd do anything you asked like an obedient follower with the goal of pleasing an unknowing force.

“You’re so pretty, you know?” Nanami couldn’t hold himself back from speaking so softly you almost missed his breathless words, which caused you to still and meet his gaze. There was no hint of malice behind your eyes, if anything Nanami could see himself in them so clearly he wondered if he was looking into a mirror.

You don’t say anything as you shut the door on his side, before you get into the car you thank the bartender again and then continue to make your way to start your car. The atmosphere remains calm and quiet for the majority of the car ride. You planned to just drop Nanami off at his apartment and then go back to Satoru’s home. Of course, things don’t go according to plan when Nanami decides to perk up in his seat and turn to face you.

“Do you like Choso?” He asks with a tone that suggests he’s sulking.

You were too tired to feed into the playful side that creeps out of Nanami when he becomes intoxicated, a side you had witnessed once and diligently tossed aside in your memories to collect dust. “No I don’t.”

“Right,” the blond man nods his head in a sense of an understanding, his mind was connecting dots that were not there but somehow he had convinced his drunken mind that those dots were in fact there; that you in fact did have feelings towards Kenof, simply because you don’t have feelings for Choso. “Because you like me, right?”

Hearing the truth stumble from the lips of the man you had cried over made you stiffen dangerously still, as if one wrong move he would be able to see right through you, that he was right and you did like him, you liked him so damn much that it hurt so much more.

“We’re nearly home now,” you quietly speak in the otherwise silent car, only the hum of the engine of the car being background noise.

Not another word is spoken as the pair of you make the last few minutes of the journey back home, not when you rush out of your side of the car to get to Nanami’s side and unbuckle his belt and take his warm hand in yours, missing the way his eyes fixated on the contact between you both. He didn’t realise how natural it felt to have your hand in his, it only added to the hazy cloud brewing in his drunken mind. Neither of you talk in the elevator, or when you fish around the breast pocket of the grey suit Nanami wore to find his house key. The blond male stays quiet and close, trailing after your footsteps and never dropping your hand, not even when you’re opening the door and flipping the light switch to illuminate the hallway.

“Do you need any help getting changed?” You ask simply as the pair of you enter Kento’s still bedroom. His dark eyes burned into a spot of the back of your head as he watched you go through his drawers to get a fresh new pair of pajamas to wear.

The answer you’re waiting for never comes as you’re met with silence, you turn around to check on Nanami, thinking the man had suddenly fallen asleep but you’re met with the view of his gaze fixed on you.

You still hold the fresh clothes in your hands, taking small steps to the silent man, trying to decipher the look looming across his features.

“Are you okay?” You ask genuinely in a soft manner.

Nanami blinks up at you with drooping eyes as the tiredness of the day finally catches up to his intoxicated body. He sits at the edge of the bed, just on the verge of falling off and onto the cold floor with a hard smack from the pull of gravity. The darkness consumed his own iris from dilation, hiding the shimmering gold swimming in the brown warmth. There were numerous things he wanted to say but he couldn’t find the ability to voice any of the endless thoughts swirling around his mind. It was as if his body was suddenly betraying him and no longer wanted to function correctly. Why couldn’t he ask you to stay? It’s a question, loaded with a hidden meaning but ultimately simple. His eyes burned with exhaustion whilst peering up to look at you in the dark room, even when your features were covered with shadows he could make each one out from his memory.

“Stay here with me,” Nanami can feel his heart race as he manages to speak in a breathless manner. Another rush of adrenaline is secreted into his blood, preparing his body for the stressful situation he was faced with. “Please,” there’s a rawness to his voice, harsh against his throat from all the liquor he had consumed. “I don’t want you to go just yet.” In desperation, his warm hand found yours, quick to invite himself to your touch. It had been too long since he had felt the skin of your palm against his, a pang hit his chest at the remembrance of how he hurt your feelings. A wave of guilt washes over the man as his intoxicated mind replays incidents from the past few months.

It didn’t take a genius to notice the slump in Kento’s shoulders as if they were holding the weight of the world upon them. He must have been so tired, you thought, if it had been you, enduring such an emotionally taxing day, there would be no way you’d be of sound mind. Kento tried his best, that much you knew and were proud of him for. Without another thought, you nod at the drunk blond male’s request, letting the man hold your waist tighter, dragging you into the space between his legs. It was far too late into the night for your mind to be rational. You were tired as well and you’d have to wake up early in the morning to get back to the boys, who you were certain were waiting for your return.

And, being honest to your heart, you missed Kento.

Nanami held onto you tightly, fingers gripping into the material of your shirt as tightly as possible, afraid that his melancholy mixed with the overconsumption of alcohol had manifested your existence and that when he wakes up you wouldn’t be here with him.

“Let’s go to bed,” you say as you gently stroke the messy blond hair, your other hand managing to snake around the expanse of his shoulders. There was no more space for the pair of you to invade as Kento hid his sorrow filled face into your stomach.

Weeks had passed since the pair of you had shared a close proximity in a bed. Although neither of you felt uncomfortable. It felt normal.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” Nanami says in a tone that comes out much quieter than expected, possibly from the dryness itching at the column of his throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Let’s talk tomorrow,” you suggest whilst turning around to face the man on the other side of the bed.

Kento shakes his head against the pillow in retaliation, the effects of the alcohol seemed to still cause the man to act accordingly to his true feelings. For once, being true to himself. “I didn’t want to lose you, I would never.”

With a tired yawn escaping from you, you acknowledge the drunken man’s sincere words and reassure him that you’ll talk in the morning. Drunk Nanami was much different to the sober one, you think you’re beginning to warm to the sides of himself that creep out when he’s drunk. His walls are lowered and he’s loose-lipped, spilling any secrets you could possibly wish to know, now you understand why he didn’t often drink himself to madness. And insanely adorable you note.

“Promise?” Kento mumbled out.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” you whisper back in a lighthearted tone, trying your absolute best to hold back the giggle threatening to leave you.

“Please don’t die…”

Trying your hardest to fight back a giggle, a smile still makes its way onto your face, spreading to the corner of your lips despite biting down on the flesh. “Go to sleep, Nanami.”

As the pair of you led in the bed, nothing could be heard apart from light breathing, it was quiet. Kento felt energised, no part of him wanted to sleep, instead he wanted to stay awake and imprint every forthcoming moment with you into his mind, to never be forgotten. The bedroom was dark with the curtains drawn shut to not let any light into the room but neither of you complained about it, preferring the expressions you each displayed to be concealed. There was no need for any lamps or light bulbs to be on, as silly as it was, you trusted your intuition to understand Kento’s feelings. He was just trying his best to be a good father to his children, that was something you could never harbour angry feelings towards.

Slowly, your eyes close as sleep takes over your body and inhabits your bodily function, leading you into a still state against the pillow. Nanami felt lucky. There would never be a person as beautiful as you are. Every poem, song, piece of literature about beauty finally made sense to him as he stared at your still sleeping face, a gentleness taking over your features as you led there unaware of the dramatic beating of Nanami’s heart. No one had made him feel this way. So unnerved but prepared, he didn’t want to submit to the sleep calling him. He couldn’t. Not when he was analysing your every feature to be engraved into the forefront of his mind, never to be forgotten. Despite the lack of sobriety, Kento felt a sane mind when his hand reached out slowly to grace along the ample of your cheek, not considering the possibility of waking you from your slumber. He wanted more, to reach out and pull you into his chest, to feel your arms around his frame.

Kento wanted you. He desperately wanted you and all of your attention. Innocently, his heart yearned for you.

He just wanted you.

“Please take me back,” his whisper is loud against the silence but it doesn’t wake you, your still face unchanging as slow painful moments pass.

🏷 @irreverent-dream @mystic-poteto @the-amaranthine @ys2800 @aphrodani @thoreeo @bryandechartisasmolbean @nanaminswaifu @youraggedybitch @coconut-dreamz @usualsworld @ryobf69 @tsukkikeisimp @r-xochitl

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Hiddleston - Stripped Sunday

A/N & WC - I came up with this concept ages ago and only just got around to writing it, though it’s slightly short. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to. 2k.

Warnings - Swearing (that's now just a given), definitely suggestive and nsfw but nowhere near explicit, just mentions of sex, nudity too. And unknowing exhibitionism I guess? 16+

Summary - Sunday's are always the best, especially when you and Tom walk around the house nude, but it's been a while. Too long a while. So, obliviously, you take matters into your own hands...

THOMAS WILLIAM HIDDLESTON IS A SIMPLE MAN, believe it or not. He likes meals he can cook in fifteen minutes, he likes his tea with only a splash of milk, he likes the simple pleasures of nature. He likes morning runs and evening walks, re-watching movies he’s seen a dozen times, cuddles on a cold night. But most of all, he likes it when you walk around nude.

It might just be the one singular thing in the great mystery of life that is inexplicable to him, the one thing he enjoys so bloody much he daren’t speak of it, lest he risk losing it. Just the sight of your beautiful body keeps him up night after night after night when he’s working away, plotting and planning ways to ensure he never forgets it for the second he returns home. He can’t even begin to explain the things it does to him.

So, he set up a Stripped Sunday, with the basic premise that you both have to walk around in your birthday suits all day. It’s essentially his unique, perverse, inventive way of seeing you naked all day once a week. Not every Sunday, naturally, but just on occasion, when he’s not working, he’ll jot it down on the calendar. Nothing too glaring, in case someone catches a glimpse of his calendar, but just scribbling down a winky face in a Sunday space, and you know what you’re in for.

In all honesty, you love it just as much as he does. It’s hard not to. Seeing him walking around the house with not a scrap of clothing on all day does things to you you’ve never been able to put your finger on—or his. If you were to get pregnant, Stripped Sundays would be the culprit with the amount that the two of you shag in a single day. And he always seems to have another round in the bank to wake you the morning after, hungover on dripping lust.

However, it’s been far too long without one of these days, you think to yourself. And you know that there are no plans for the day, seeing as there’s nothing in the diary or the calendar, where—upon Tom’s own decree—all arrangements have to be written down. Seeing as you and Tom have a somewhat secret relationship, one certainly sheltered from the press, and no one knows you’re together, let alone live together, keeping all plans written down is imperative. His work meetings are always good reasons for you to get out of the house for a few hours.

Today, however, Tom seems to have made a mistake. Today’s meeting utterly slipped his mind, and he completely forgot to tell you, let alone jot it down, that he was having a casual meeting with a few co-stars to discuss future production of some sort—of what, he was entirely unsure, since this was texted about weeks ago, now. Nothing too major, though.

Logically, Tom thought that, with how late you were currently sleeping, and how much you enjoy your lie-ins, he’d be wrapped before you woke up, and even if that wasn’t to be the case and you wake up, that you’d have the sense to dress, or even call for him at the very least, before going downstairs.

You aren’t so lucky.

—

Waking up to an empty bed is never much fun. Usually if Tom wakes up before you, he’ll only slip out to put the kettle on, or fetch a new book to read from the library while he waits for you to stir naturally… that is if he isn’t waking you up in other, more pleasurable ways. At most, if he does have plans and doesn’t want to wake you after a late night, he’ll leave you a lovely note, a voicemail, and a thermal mug of tea.

Today, however, you can smell the coffee machine on—no wonder after the late, and rather energetic night you had—and hear the machine whirring, signalling that Tom likely hasn’t long been awake. That’s when the gears begin to turn and your plan begins to formulate, a completely devious idea that creeps into your mind and quirks your lips into a smirk. No matter how enticing the idea to nuzzle back into the pillows is, your need for Tom is overpowering your clawing need for sleep, especially with your primal instincts telling you he’s within grabbing distance, his aftershave still on the sheets you’re wrapped in. So, you strip his shirt, now perpetually appropriated by you, off and get out of bed, stretching as you go, beginning to make your way downstairs.

“What’s that?” Tom hears someone ask.

Not hearing your footsteps on the squeaky stairs over the whirring of the coffee machine and the layered discussions, including his own laughter, he simply replies, “Probably the dog.”

You, however, aren’t lucky enough to hear this brief conversation before your bare feet land on the cold hardwood floor, sending chills throughout you that don’t seem to even mildly combat the overwhelming heat building all throughout you. With just a few more steps, keeping your footing light and avoiding Bobby’s various chewies and toys littered all over the floor, you’re entering the kitchen in nought but your birthday suit. Utterly, completely in the buff.

“Morning baby,” you call out, yawning, your eyes fluttering shut, your jaw wide.

Except, instead of the warm embrace and slatherings of kisses that you expect to receive, or even a simple “Good morning, Princess,” you’re welcomed with a deadly silence, a stillness you can’t quite comprehend.

Your eyes fly open in shock, opening to see three people, mildly familiar faces, with mouths agape and eyes wide, sitting around the breakfast bar with mugs between their hands. Tom looks as stunned as you’ve ever seen him, over by the coffee machine, his hands trembling. With a fixed gaze of his baby blue eyes, so piercingly alarmed, he looks you up and down, his eyes blazing over your nude form, his kissable mouth practically watering at the mere sight of you.

That’s before it clicks with him, the dire situation, and alarm bells begin to blare inside his head, causing him to jump into action. Almost instantly, he’s pulling his shirt off his strong arms and muscular torso with lithe fingers, and is tugging it over your head, covering your naked torso.

You can already feel the blush on your cheeks, your skin burning from the bruised base of your throat to the pierced tips of your ears, the blood in your veins rushing around so violently that it drowns out any other comments or noise within the room, within the situation, but you’re brought back to reality when Tom’s strong, callused hands fall to your arms, clasping the flesh before he’s all but lifting you off the tiled floor and steering you back out of the room. It snicks shut behind you, but all you can focus on is the kiss he gives you, slanting his thin lips over yours so intoxicatingly that you’re able to forget your humongous disaster, if only for a second. There’s an emptiness the second he stops kissing you, and you’re able to hear the previously shut out gossip from inside.

“Sweetheart, what the hell was that?” he commands, his tone soft.

Despite the austere authority he so naturally demands in a room, he doesn’t sound angry whatsoever. If anything he’s just a little exposed, his private home life revealed to people when he wasn’t in the least bit prepared for once in his lifetime, with a definite undertone of irritation, mostly that he can’t have his way with you instantly. His blood is roaring, his stomach an explosion of swarms of butterflies, his core pulsating. He can’t tear his eyes away from you, even now you’re covered, your hardened nipples poking through the fabric.

“I— I saw the calendar was empty, I wanted to impress you, have a nice Sunday because it’s been so long,” you confess, shuffling your feet on the floor, unable to meet his blue gaze boring into you, “I’ve felt… distant from you recently, you’ve been working so much. I don’t know,” you shift anxiously, tugging on his shirt wrapped around you, “I love you, I didn’t wanna lose you. I thought you’d like it.”

“Baby,” he says, “I love you and this so so much. Of course I like it!”

You let out a feeble cry against his chest, his arms knotting around you and tugging you into his chest in one swift movement. His hugs, the way he holds you and cradles you, always make you feel better, no matter what your troubles may be.

You sniffle a little, “Really?”

Any trace of hardness in his face just dissipates and is replaced with sympathy, empathy, love.

“I truly wish I could take you right now, Darling, and if they weren’t here, I’d be fucking you on that breakfast bar and you know it.” He sighs deeply. “But, I didn’t put down a special Sunday for a reason, love.” Leaning down, he kisses away your wry tears, and then the tip of your nose. “You are so thoughtful. It’s all my fault though, I must’ve just forgotten to write this down.”

How can you be mad at him when he’s being so thoughtful and heartfelt, confessing his mistake even when it was your rash thinking that’s gotten you into this mess?

Once you calm your breathing down, though, you realise that you’re actually not particularly phased by this at all. You don’t mind this; it was the sheer shock that passed over Tom’s face, the flash of terror he must’ve felt with his work colleagues in the room with him that scared you so. You know well enough that it’ll be a huge knock—monumental, even—for him, if this gets out. Your worry for your treasured boyfriend takes power over any of your own misgivings.

“I’m really sorry, Tom.”

“Don’t be,” he says hastily, “can you please pop up and get dressed, though, darling? Just some shorts, I don’t want you to feel exposed.”

You let out a soft chuckle, nodding, stepping away from him to make your way upstairs. Before you’ve taken so much as a step, though, he tugs you back by the bottom of his shirt, and ravels you into a searing kiss, everything he wants to say passes from his lips to yours.

—

You return a couple of minutes later, dressed simply, comfortably, his shirt in your hands, you find him waiting for you, standing outside the door with his hands clasped at his front. He greets you with open arms, prompting you to take his hands as he leads you back into the kitchen, your eyes connecting in a secret agreement before stepping inside.

The air is rife with anxiety, three panicked faces staring back at you, but thankfully, you’re able to recognise these people as ones he’s worked with for a while, people he knows really well; confidantes and friends more than co-stars or colleagues. However, by the inquisitive glint in their eyes and their parted mouths, you imagine they’ll still have a lot of questions, and this’ll still be a hit for Tom.

He wraps his spare arm around you, his head bowed as he meets the dead faces staring at him. That’s when you begin to wonder if something else has happened.

“Baby, everything okay?” you ask, cupping his jaw, caressing your thumb over the scruff of a beard shadowing his bone structure.

That’s seemingly when it hits him, his face paling, blanching, his grip around you loosening.

“It’s a good job you never got over the threshold, darling,” he says breathlessly, “or I’d be in much more trouble.”

You look to him, eyes searching his face imploringly as he viciously gulps. “We were live on Instagram.”

“SHIT!”

Well, it looks like Tom’s girlfriend is public knowledge. You can’t mind, though not as he dips his head and kisses you hotly, heartily. With this passion, the second these people leave, Stripped Sunday might just happen after all.

[goddess-evelle]

Can you please write something where Dream is too big to adjust to and he goes all the way in and it hurts really bad and you can’t handle it but you don’t say anything and when he starts moving you start crying and he sees you and pulls out immediately. Thank you so much, love your writing. ❤️

Be honest with me

Warnings: Reader is in pain, huge cock, I think that’s all. Mostly fluff.

A/N: Hi, as some of you know. I am going over some requests that I’ve had for a while.

All the signs were there, you just refused to acknowledge them. He was visibly taller than you; well, who are you kidding he is huge. He always wore baggy pants, he was always very careful to put a pillow on his lap whenever things got heated, and for some reason he never wore skinny jeans even when you gave them to him as a present. He mentioned that skinny jeans were uncomfortable for him, but you didn’t give him much thought. So, here you are mouth completely opened in shock as you stare at Dream cock; sure, you thought it was going to be above average, but you didn’t think it’d be this big.

His cock stood proudly resting against his abdomen. You were surprised when you saw it. His size intimidating compared to your small body. The only thoughts surfing through your head being: I fucked up. You had talked so proudly about riding him until your thighs shook, but now seeing his cock only made you realize that you not be able to take him fully. His size appearing too big to fit inside of you in one go. He would definitely break you if he tried, but you weren’t a quitter. You had talked your big talk for weeks. Expressing how excited you were to get dicked down by him. You had spent the last 4 weeks teasing him. The poor man always ended up walking awkwardly to the bathroom, and although you tied to ask him if he wanted help; he’d always shook you off. His excuse being that he wanted both of your first times to be special. Of course, you thought he was being a gentleman. Never did it cross your mind that he was trying to protect you from his humongous dick.

Now, here you were. Feeling really stupid about all the teasing you had done when you had his huge cock in front of you. You couldn’t back down now, so you smiled at him pretending that everything was alright as you laid back on the bed legs spreads enticing him. Pushing your nervousness down as he moved towards you cock bobbing slightly as he tapped his cock against your entrance taking the moment to appreciate how wet you were for him. He slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you just a little bit letting you accommodate his big tip inside of you. You really tried to breathe, but the way his cock simply impaled itself into you. Every passing second made the jabbing feeling got stronger and stronger. Go knows you tried to ignore it, but it hurt so bad. You knew he’d stop if you told him something, but you didn’t want to ruin it for him, so you took it. You kept silent just surfing your way through the pain. Your forearms were hiding your eyes as hot tears fell from them. You tried to hide them not wanting for Dream to feel bad about it. However, he wanted to see you; thinking that you were enjoying it. He stopped completely as soon as he saw you; your face completely red with tears angrily falling down your eyes. He started asking what was wrong; only for multiple pleas of “it hurts” to come out of your mouth. He carefully pulled out of you while kissing away your tears feeling horrible that he had put you through so much pain that you were full on crying. He rapidly took you to take a bath letting you calm down in the warm water. He cuddled you and kissed you through the night. The two of you spend the night giving you all the aftercare you needed. He apologized as much as he could feeling absolutely horrible, but you reassured him that everything was okay. The night was spent showing how much you loved each other.

[vrishchikawrites]

About YZY leaving YMJ/JFM with her kids Post-WWX Arrival

Dear Dee, feel free to delete or ignore this or post it, whatever floats your boat. This just stuck in my head after those posts and I had to blurt it all to someone. Thanks for taking the time to read my word vomit.

So I had to do this instead of an ask because it got long and I wasn't sure how many asks it'd need or how short I could cut it down without losing parts of the argument. And then other things came up as I was writing and, well.  Well..... >_>;;;; 

But you know, after that post/ask you had about YZY fics saying 'Fuck U' to YMJ/JFM & leaving both with her kids, I had a sarcastic 'yeah right' attitude about it. Mainly due to a lot of negation emotions to such an abusive (and delusional) bitch, partly due to how she wouldn't do that since it doesn't seem to be something her sort of character would consider either because she'd think of it as 'losing' (losing what, IDK, it's why I consider her type of person crazy) or she legit wouldn't think about such a viable action.

But then later, in the shower, I seriously went 'Wait, she can't fucking do that' and it wouldn't be about how MXTX uses her as a part of the narrative but entirely about the/their culture in the novel; the actions that have and would be taken in response; and her entire toxic personality as well.

1) We already know that the sects and the cultivation world in general is sexist, elitist and so Capital T 'Traditional' to the point that it's starting to petrify and any deviancy from this is an exception rather than the norm. YZY might be a madame of a great sect (for what that's worth considering how shit of a madame she's been and the titles she's chosen for herself) but she's still a woman even with her high rank and the things she's personally accomplished.

Even if she was in her rights to leave a 'bad' marriage, she'd be the one who'd get scolded more instead of JFM by her natal family, her former husband's family and by their entire society at large even if she had a few singular supporters. Because That's Not How Things Are Done in their society and I do believe that such a thing was rare even when it was accepted method by the upper echelons. Especially since it would have to be done by more than YZY simply deciding that She Wants Out and just- goes and Gets Out. With no serious allegations that would allow her to divorce or separate from YMJ/JFM without the input from her family, JFM's family and, I think, possibly some measure of compensation as well. And no, having or bringing in a 'bastard child' is not a serious enough offence for such a humongous decision. I think something more along the lines of treason or crimes against multiple, high-ranking parties would be more along the lines. Maybe.

And even if she does this, she'd be considered 'Used Goods' (such a terrible comment) and there'd be no other good/proper marriage prospects for a divorced woman with children let alone a woman like YZY with her entire abrasive personality and attitude put off even easy-going JFM.

(If she'd been widowed then it'd be more forgiven but I consider that a Real Bad End since, IMO, it would lead to the sudden and inevitable decline of YMJ either via mass exodus of disciples and/or residents of LP; being merged with another sect due to it's unstable leadership; or create an internal political war 'cause I bet you anything that the YMJ Elders/relatives (if they have any) Would Not Want YZY in charge of YMJ when she's already proven herself such a shit betrothed let alone madame.)

2) Speaking of families, while YMJ/JFM/LP as a whole might be glad to see YZY's back, I don't think her natal sect, MSY, will be glad to see her come storming back after all the effort they put into getting that particular marriage alliance with YMJ. And if she brings her children with her? Oh man, oh boy- mother or not, that could be considered as kidnapping or line theft (is that a thing?) especially if YZY is also seriously considering divorce proceedings and raising them as Yu and not Jiang. That could give leave to, for anyone more unforgiving and maybe JFM if he's pushed enough, disown both JYL and JWY from the Jiangs through no fault of their own (though I'm sure YZY would make it so as well as blame JFM for her own decisions and mistakes).

Therefore, any inheritance or benefits they might gain for being legitimised children of a great sect are forfeited. JYL will likely lose that betrothal with JZX because JGS will drop it like a hot potato and JWY won't be a sect heir because YZY literally decided to remove that by deciding to raise JWY as a Yu, no matter their blood relation to JFM. They leave him, they leave YMJ and everything attached with it. Which is if YMJ/JFM doesn't demand MSY to give back their heir/ess and to punish YZY for her actions. Or send all three of them back for the appropriate reactions/decisions.

Their society would demand no less in reaction because, to them, it would seem like YZY had gone mad and JFM would look weak (or weaker) and imply that YMJ is vulnerable and exploitable if JFM doesn't do something in response to her actions. That's not even getting into what the other smaller sects may try to do in an attempt to curry favour with YMJ or what LLJ or QSW would try in order to destroy or diminish YMJ. And whether JFM chooses to demand his children back or not, it may not change the fact that this may give him reason enough to choose a nephew or niece to be the new sect heir especially if, even after getting rid of YZY's poisonous influence, JWY grows up to be his mother's child more than his father's or even his own person.

Either way, such a thing would bring great backlash on YZY, and MSY as well as the collateral. No one would want to give face to her or her children because it would bring up some very uncomfortable questions and scenarios to the other sects- specifically, what would happen if the female members of their clans/sets decided to follow the footsteps of YZY and leave with their children and heirs. Especially if they use it as an excuse to leave for their own comfort and whims and not some legitimate wrongs and dangers. That would create some more restrictions on women thanks to YZY

3) And lastly, if any one of those idiot YZY stans think that she'd ever give up the status of being a madame of a great sect they'd be as crazy or crazier than her. YZY is all about status and power and face. Specifically, her status, power and face and how people in her reach reflect her or 'insult' her. She is a selfish, terrible, abusive and toxic person and can only see people in regards to how they would benefit her and the elevation of her and in no other way. Especially her family. They cannot be their own person, they can only be an extension of her and gods forbid they go against her.

We can see this in how she treats the people she supposedly loves. JFM? Arguments day in, day out along with accusations and slander of cheating, having one(1) supposed 'bastard' and being 'in love' with CSSR. Which all seems sus as hell. And that's when she's actually there and not out 'night hunting'. Even her 'training' seems to border on unhelpful rather then helpful if my vague recollections of juniors fainting from exhaustion can be relied upon (please call me out if they're not or find proof).

JYL? Berated by not being 'strong' but not helped at all to be 'strong'. It doesn't help that YZY seems to believe in the same standards strength in their society- that is, of martial masculine strength which does not and should not apply to JYL who has been said to be sickly. Which means h should have been learning a different way of cultivation/fighting anyway.  If that was something she wanted and had been offered in the first place- which I doubt. That isn't even getting into her repeated generational trauma mess of a betrothal which was decided only by those 'sworn sisters', accepted by her as a way out of her terrible home life and puts her squarely within reach of JGS who we know to be a womaniser, rapist, predator and a possible ephebophile considering we don't know the exact age of his youngest 'conquest' or the age of MZY's mother when they met which could be anywhere from 14 to 21.

JWY? Gods, so much meta on him and his(non-) relationships with his parents that I don't think I can contribute more to it. It's been all said and done. Unless people want me to stir the pot by saying that, maybe, just maybe, YZY resents JWY as much as she 'loves' him.Either because he's her son and yet never manages to 'accomplish as much' as WWX or because he's a boy and therefore, more benefits and allowances than a girl/woman- more than anything that YZY ever got without either a fight or screaming at someone about. *shrug*

So, in conclusion to this sudden an unexpected essay that I wrote(I'm so sorry about that, I thought it would be shorter -.-;;;;), YZY leaving YMJ/JFM with her kids? Impossible. Not without some sort of personality transplant or a complete AU. She's too prideful, too bitter, too angry, too everything negative and little positive. She's a resentful product of the values and restraints of her society taken to the extreme negative with a willingness to inflict her pain on others to an abusive degree. But she's also too obsessed and reliant on those same values and restraints to keep up the image of her status. So her? Giving those up? You'd be more likely to see WRH as a doting grandfather than that.

---

Dee - All of this is true and yes YZY leaving YMJ is highly unlikely. While there will be consequences if she decides to leave, she does canonically lives separately from her husband. They seem to be in a situation where they are married but living separately, which was a common way to end a marriage (at least in spirit) back then. She essentially had all the perks of being Madam Jiang but fulfilled none of the responsibilities.

Afaik, her training the Jiang disciples is a donghua thing? I may be wrong but I recall she spent most of her time nighthunting.

As for taking her children along with her- that's completely impossible. At that point, children were the property of the father. She could leave but she would've never been allowed to take JC.

[harmoni-me]

Hello! I’m not sure if your requests are still open but, if they are here you go! I wanted to ask if you could write me a request of Nagito Komaeda x a reader who is the ultimate Chess Master? I kinda wanted to imagine him falling in love or already dating his S/O who plays chess as a professional and is more on the kinder side when it comes to him. Good luck! 💖

Ooo! This is such a unique concept, and I absolutely love it! Writing it was an absolute joy! Thank you so much for the amazing request <3

Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Chess Master Reader!

The ultimate nurse, the ultimate swords-woman, the ultimate photographer…everyone in this class seemed to posses such interesting talents. It made you feel quite jealous, in some sort of way.

Now, of course you never thought of your talent as boring, useless, or unnecessary in the slightest! After all, you were the Ultimate Chess Master. You believed that everyone should try chess at least once before inflicting their nasty opinions on the strategic game. Unfortunately, that was already too late when it came to…basically your entire school life.

In Elementary, you would ask the kids on the playground to play a quick game of speed chess, because you thought it was a fun way to spend time with friends! But all you got in return were child-built insults, saying that chess was stupid and boring. It’s quite ridiculous to admit, but those comments still float around your mind sometimes. Kids were harsh, still are…

In Middle School, you had a few close friends, and when you asked one of them to try playing a game of chess with you, all they did was look at you weirdly, a look that only seemed to scream “uh, are you serious?”. This was when you started to question your liking for chess. Was it that weird? Am I the only one my age that thinks that chess is actually a fun game?

Now, you were sitting in class at Hope’s Peak Academy, a school full of the elite, yet…

This was the first time you felt truly, whole-heartily ashamed about your love for the game of chess.

“Are you kidding me? Chess? You got into this school for an old-people game like CHESS!? Pfft-!” A girl in twin blonde pony tails and an orange kimono let out a shrill of laughter.

“An…old people game….?” You muttered to yourself, steadily becoming a little closed off from the rest of the class.

You’re love for chess was parallel to how you played, which was almost unbeatable on a professional level, yet…

Why were these comments crushing your heart? Why did it make your love for the game waver?

Class continued like normal, just a little lecture to start off the rest of our high school lives. You honestly weren’t paying attention, your focus more attentive to your little chess notebook, filing it with strategies you wanted to try against high-level computer AI.

Though, it would be nice to have even a complete beginner to play with every once and awhile, though, you might be asking for too much.

Thump

Great, more harassment.

You turned around slightly in your seat, and looked down at the ground it see a crumpled piece of notebook paper that had hit you in the back. You picked it up, and looked around to try and figure out a potential culprit, but it seemed as if everyone was acting normal. No dice, then.

Unfolding the messy ball of paper as quietly as possible, you read what seemed to be words written on the inside.

Meet me in the library today after school, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to be seen with trash like me

The wording on the letter was…strange, but that didn’t stop you from feeling a tiny firework of joy in your heart. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel more nervous than joyous due to how the letter was written. It was surely vague, but it really seemed like the writer as quite the low self esteem.

You were suspicious, but honestly, what could go wrong? It had to be someone from the class that you were just introduced to, so at least it’s not like a blind date sort of thing…

The more you thought about it, the more it actually seemed like a blind date. Nice.

Time seemed to move incredibly slow for the whole rest of the school day, but eventually, the bell had rung, and you were out the door in a heartbeat.

After a little while of asking for directions to the school library, you finally reached your desired location: An absolutely humongous cavern of probably any book one could think of.

Only a couple of students were residing in this literal book mansion, and none of which you recognized.

“I guess they’re not here yet…” You mumbled, sitting yourself by a large, lit fireplace. As the warmth from the flames licked your skin, steadily causing you to naturally relax all of the tensed muscles that were stuck to your bones.

You pulled out your phone, and automatically started a game of online chess with a random opponent. The game was done in a mere ten minutes. The other player was no doubt new to the game, but that’s ok, you were there once too.

You suddenly heard a subtle clunk next to you, making your gaze wander to that direction. It was that boy from your class, the lucky boy. You remember him clearly because you thought his hair resembled a fluffy cloud. The two of you made eye contact, his foggy green eyes squinting a bit when he smiled at you, warming your heart a smidge.

“Y/N L/N, correct? I hope you don’t mind my presence, though it’s ok if you do, I would never blame you on something that’s not your fault.” The thin male crouched down to take a seat on the floor with you, sitting cross-legged.

“Yep, that’s me…and I actually kind of appreciate the meeting, honestly. Even if you just came for simple company, I think that’s very nice of you, especially since everyone in the class already thinks my talent is boring and all…Nagito Komaeda, right? I’m happy to meet you.” You shot a warm smile to the boy, causing him to reciprocate.

“You’re too kind to such untalented scum like myself, all I have is the Devil’s luck, after all! I can’t even control any of it! So I’m glad someone like me can be used as a stepping stone for you to be a beacon of hope!” Nagito chuckled, humored by his own self loathing.

You flipped your whole body to face the living incarnate of a four-leaf clover, “Well, um, on a personal note, I don’t think you’re scum. At all. I think your talent is anything but boring…I also think you’re…quite kind, for hanging out with someone like myself.” Fiddling with your uniform sleeves in nervousness. You just want him to feel better about himself.

The boy went quiet, his smile dwindling from your comment. Was he not used to compliments?

After a few moments in silence, Nagito gazed into your eyes, a new type of smile prettily stitched onto his features. It was almost like this expression was more…vulnerable, uncovering itself under layers upon layers of facades. His face almost made you breath out a sigh of relief at how comforting and relieving his genuine expression was.

“I would like to play with you. I-If you would let me, of course.” Nagito gestured his hands downwards to the chess set he had placed onto the ground since the very beginning. And how did you not notice that? It may or may not be the fact that the boy in front of you seemed to be way more intriguing.

You’re eyes widened as sudden happiness started to flow through every vein within your body. The excitement washed over your soul, rejuvenating it’s prior state of melancholy dreariness. Was…he was serious, right?

“Really…?” Was all that you managed to squeak, causing the lucky student to tilt his head in wonder.

“Hm? Well, of course…I don’t really know who else I would be aski-“

“C-Can we please play speed chess!?” You sputtered, the passion and the fireplace flames reflecting off of your eyes to reveal in an enticing glow.

“Speed Chess?” Questioned the frizzy-haired boy, though he did seem quite interested at your sudden burst of energy.

“Yeah! It’s also commonly referred to as Blitz Chess, and it’s like chess, but you have a very short amount of time to make your moves! It’s super duper fun, and if you want even more fun, then we could also play Bullet Chess! It’s even faster, and a game only takes roughly three minutes if you…keep up…the…pace…” Your words started to get quieter and more mumbled. God, you totally forgot the two of you were in a library, how embarrassing….

A hearty laugh spilled out of Nagito’s mouth, the corners of his lips turning upward to the ceiling. You looked down in pathetic nature. That was totally something to laugh at…

“Though I would consider myself a newbie when it come to chess, speed chess sounds lovely.” Nagito smiled, his pointer finger playing and twirling around the queen piece’s crown.

“Ah, a-alright, well, lets get started, shall we?” You stuttered, with joy obviously evident within your voice.

                                       .   .   .

Unsurprising to you, you had won all three games of speed chess against Nagito, though, it was surprising how close each game was. the more you thought about it, the more you realized his luck most likely aids him whenever he plays. Definitely one of the most interesting opponents you’ve been up against, whether it would be for casual online play, or in-person tournaments.

“Ah, bummer, I guess someone as useless as me shouldn’t even try to come close to beating you!” The boy ruffled his cloud-like locks, laughing at his loss.

“Hey! You had me worried for a few turns there, you were no pushover at all, Nagito!” You proclaimed, frustrated on why he would still think that, even thought the game results were all obviously pretty close.

“Also, please don’t say that your useless…it makes me really sad, because it’s not true at all.” You looked up at him with eyes that reflected something that had never burned so brightly before, and Nagito noticed.

Those eyes, previously clouded from the despair given from others, were now shining with a glimmering hope…and he drew that out from you…by simply playing a mere few games of chess.

For a moment, and only for a moment, he believed your words. Maybe he wasn’t so useless, he helped you find your smile and joy, right? Maybe…maybe…

“Oh yeah!” You shot up, causing Nagito to snap out of his thoughtful daze. You stuck your hand out to him, waiting for reciprocation.

“A handshake, to wish a good game among equals.” You encouraged the boy, wanting for him to fully indulge into what it was like to play the game in a professional, yet somewhat casual setting.

The boy looked at your hand, observing everything. Your nails, your fingertips, your knuckles, all the way down to your wrist. Equals, huh…

Nagito then slowly reached out to your hand, grasping onto it gently, yet it felt like it was the most comfortable fit he could’ve imagined. He wanted the warmth from your soft skin to seep into his cold hands, wanting that heat to slowly fill the rest of his frozen body, all the way up to his thawing heart. Though he didn’t linger any more on the handshake than he needed to, not wanting to make it uncomfortable for you.

But god, did he want to hold on forever.

[all-might-can-smash-me]

Dating Game

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum x Reader

Summary: you pick up your son’s best friend form his first day of hero work studies and meet Fatgum, the two of you chat up and head to a date...but someone ruins the after mood of the nice date by eavesdropping

Sorry for typos

Masterlist

A far off ticking of a clock seemed to annoy the silence of your apartment as you sat at the cleaned surface of the island counter in your kitchen, a note pad before you as you scribbled items down, pausing to get up and look into the fridge or the cabinets to make sure you wouldn’t forget to add anything to your weekly grocery list. You knew that if you didn’t have it on that trusted list that rest on the counter, it wouldn’t have been bought until the next time you would prepare to go shopping again. Though your scrounging around in one of the cabinets was cut short as your phone began to blare with some corny ringtone that your son had set for you and you didn’t have the heart to change it, but the sudden loudness still gave you a fright, your body seeming to start to fall downward into the floor, but you had caught yourself before the activation of your permeation quirk.

“I need to ask Mirio to set that thing lower..” you huffed out as you rushed over to the counter space where your phone sat, grabbing ahold of it and quickly answering it, though the voice on the other end didn’t give you a chance to say hello.

“Hey mom! Can you pick up me and Tamaki from our work study agencies? It’s raining and Tamaki is coming over anyway today and I also may have forgot my umbrella......” Loudly spoke out your son through the phone. “And I also may have not packed a jacket either like you tell me too....” Upon looking out the window, you gasped as you had finally seemed to notice the downpour of rain outside.

“Mirio! When will you ever get that head screwed onto your head! Your first day and you aren’t even prepared for a rainstorm?” You teased as you had reached your free hand down to push in the stool you once sat on, already shimmying into a rain coat, keys jingling within your hands, umbrella tucked away under your arm.

“Thanks mom! Love you mom!” And an over dramatic kiss noise was made and the call was ended, leaving you to only let out a laugh as you shove away your cellular device. Though you let out a little gasp as you rushed back to the kitchen, grabbing a few juice boxes and snacks before finally making your way back to the front door, shoes placed onto your feet and umbrella at the ready.

Tamaki was first on your list to save from the downpour of rain. You always adored the sweet, shy boy, from when he was just a mere child until now. You could recall those days where Mirio and him would have their sleepovers and he would be too shy to ask for a glass of water or where to hang his coat or place his shoes out of the way. Over the years though he pushed a bit out of his shell, grown a bit more comfortable around you thanks to all the years of knowing you, not all the way completely, but it was enough for you, but most importantly Tamaki was just simply perfect the way he was as a person for Mirio to consider him his best friend and most prized confidante. That was a beautiful thing to know and to see. You were pulled out from your memories of the young boy now turned young man as you finally parked outside the agency. Thankfully you were familiar with the two boys’ agencies by the constant chatter that was always going on within your home about it and Mirio made sure to write them down for you and placed it on the fridge.

“Fatgum agency.....” you mumbled out as you leaned forward to peer up at the building through your windshield through the heavy splatters of rain that pelted your window, but you took now time to brace yourself with your umbrella at the ready, hood pulled over and tightened onto your head as you shoved the car door open, umbrella now over your head as you slammed the door shut and raced for the entrance, bursting in through the doors with a sigh of relief, umbrella drawn closed. Right there standing off to the side, with someone else who strangely looked like the front of the building, seemingly trying to slouch away from the world was Tamaki. A grin crawled onto your lips as you stepped up to him, giving him a tight squeeze “How was your first day? Look at you all grown up...” you gushed out, pulling away to see the bright blush that was upon his cheeks, already twiddling with his fingers “Don’t worry, you can tell me on the way to get Mirio.” You said assuringly as you handed him the umbrella in your hand.

“Is this your mother?” Soon spoke up the man that was with him, a shocked look upon his face as he looked to you. Tamaki only nervously shook his head no, looking expectingly to you. You were all too familiar with that look in his eyes. You took it upon yourself to explain.

“Oh no, but I wish I was! He’s such a sweet and talented boy. He and my son are long time best friends and I’m here to simply pick him up and along with my son from his work studies to avoid that storm out there.” You said, vibrant smile plastered onto your face, your words ended with an equally vibrant giggle as you wrapped an arm around Tamaki’s shoulders, he only giving his shy nods to your words. “We don’t want our future heroes getting sick!” You said as you looked down to Tamaki and soon back up to the other. Tamaki seemed to gulp down a bit of his nervousness and fear to finally speak out quietly.

“Ms.Togata...this is Fatgum, the hero of this agency....” He finally got out, you letting your hand softly pat his back in encouragement and of also pride at him overcoming his nervousness and fear for that single sentence. You gave a little bow to the hero upon the introduction, he returning it back, but that almost shocked expression seemed to still bit etched upon his face. He probably would have been more fearful of you though if you were Tamaki’s mother because of the fact he found your drop dead gorgeous. It was shocking to say the least, to have someone such as yourself standing before him and the absence of a ring also only made matters worse for his nerves.

“Nice to meet you Fatgum, but I really need to go pick up my son and plus I got you and Mirio juice boxes and I don’t want them to get hot and sweat everywhere.” You said with a glance to Tamaki before looking up to the humongous hero before you, but despite him towering over you....he was cute along with the grin that now stretched across his face. With that you were guiding out Tamaki from the agency, now running back to the car, Tamaki taking the liberty to sit in the front seat, which years ago he would have NEVER even thought about doing such a thing, juice box already in his hands, sipping away. What can he say....a juice box shall forever be greatness within his eyes.

“Fatgum and I went on patrol earlier...he eats a lot...” he spoke out quietly as he watched the windshield wipers move back and forth in their fast rhythms. You glanced over at him before looking back down to the street.

“Oh yeah? Well, I guess then the two of you kind of have something in common.” You pointed out with a laugh as you turned down a road, soon the crinkling of a bag of crackers sounded as Tamaki took the liberty to grab one to eat, years ago though he would have been simply too nervous to do so.

“Yes....but all I’ve eaten with him are octopus takoyaki...” he said as he brought up a hand, finger turning into a tenticle before it quickly transformed back into his finger. “Nothing else...but he says the octopus aspect can be useful...” and with that he want back to eating his snack, you only humming along to the soft music that played to the radio. You finally pulled up to Nighteye agency, but you didn’t even get the chance to get out of the car to retrieve your son before he was already running excitedly out of the building, car door yanked open as he flung himself inside, door now shut behind him. It didn’t take long for Mirio to find his juice box and snack, already spilling every single detail of his first day, Tamaki listening intently.

Though as the days went on, Fatgum was left wondering when he would ever see you again. He prayed for rain, but the rain never came. He prayed for anything to get you back into his agency again so he could at least get your number or something. It was too weird to ask Tamaki about it as well and the boy was too hard on himself, shy, nervous, and fearful of everything, but Fatgum new patience was key to guiding him down the right path. Finally the rain did come, which that rain brought you back along with it. Fatgum couldn’t help but let that iconic grin of his stretch across his face as he watched you push through the doors and into the safety of his agency. Tamaki was already scurrying to meet up with you at the doors to leave, but already a voice boomed out.

“Hey! Wait a second!” Shouted out the Hero Fatgum as he made his way over “I got to ask you something!” He said, finally slowly his quickened pace as he got closer. Tamaki took it upon himself to take the car keys from your hand, already rushing out the building and to the car, getting a feeling in his bones that Fatgum was going to try and flirt with you. All the ‘subtle’ questions about you while out on patrol or sitting around in his office didn’t fly over the young adult’s head, so Tamaki already knew he DID NOT want to be standing there to listen to the hero he was doing his work studies with flirt with his best friend’s mom that was basically a mother to himself for the many past years of his life. It was just....ew?

“Yeah, sure, fire away.” You said with a grin as you pulled down the hood that was tightened upon your head, hands smoothing away the frizzy mess that was your hair. If only it wasn’t raining so hard or if only it wasn’t so humid.

“I was just wondering if maybe I could get your number?” He asked, a sheepish smile over powering that grin he tried to keep stretched across his face. He could already feel that blush flood his cheeks, but you only let a laugh out as you nodded your head, tugging out your phone from the depths of your purse.

“Yeah! Of course, look, type your number in mine and I’ll send a text to you.” You offered, handing the phone, a contact already pulled up and ready to be typed in. Relief flooded his insides as he took the phone from your hands carefully, typing in his info before handing it back, which you instantly took ahold of you phone once again, thumbs quickly typing away before that iconic ‘whoop’ noice sounded out to signify a text message had been sent, his own phone within his pocket now chiming.

After that, text message upon text message were sent and received between the two of you. All those text messages combined could probably make the 5th book of Harry Potter look puny. It felt like you were back in high school again, texting away, a little flirt here and there, laughter, etc. Every now and then a phone call would happen, but those always happened away at night where you knew your son was knocked out from sleep and Fatgum was free for a few hours. Until finally...the text you were anticipating was sent.

‘Would you like to go out with me this evening, let’s say at 7:30?’

Which you of course excepted, which led to now, you were slipping a dress over your head, now standing before a mirror, hand smoothing out the material, sooon leaning in close to inspect the makeup that you had placed on before heading in the living room kitchen area, Mirio and Tamaki looking up from their school work and to you.

“Where are you going?” Mirio asked as he watched you nervously look down to your phone as you were beginning to make sure you had everything you needed in your purse. Though you were now fishing out some money from your wallet, placing it down on the counter.

“I’m going out tonight, I’m leaving money on the counter in case you two boys want to order food or pick something up.” You spoke out as you looked over to them. “And since it’s Friday, you two can order a few movies too off of amazon to watch as well, don’t forget to lock the front door and I shouldn’t be too late.” You told them, Mirio only looking to you, confused look on his face.

“Wait! Going out? With who?” He was soon asking excitedly from his sprawled out position at the coffee table that sat in the living room between the tv and the couch, Tamaki staring down to his work, though his head soon shot up, it finally connecting together within his brain that he indeed already knew the answer to that question. You were about to answer it, but the doorbell rang, you rushing over to the door to open it, though your brows furrowed together as you looked to the man before you. He was indeed talll, but he was handsome and you were pretty sure those were muscles under the sleeves of his dress shirt, but that iconic smile that stretched across his face made you wonder.

“Uh I....got a few days off from the angency because I used all my energy during an attack with a villain...this is what happens when I do that, so they give me time to build it all back up.” He said as he gave a little nervously laugh as he scratched the back of his head. You only gave a grin as you stepped aside to let him in.

“Really? Well then these next couple of days I’ll make sure your feeding yourself properly.” You said with a little laugh, closing the door behind him. “Just give me a moment, I still need to go pick out the shoes I’m wearing.” You said as you rushed off, living him to slip his shoes off at the front door to step further into your home. Though he froze as a gasp sounded out.

“Tamaki? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” Fatgum said with a litttle laugh as he looked to the two boys, school uniforms disheveled from when their hands undid their ties and untucked their shirts the firsts moment they got back from school.

“Wait...” Mirio hummed out as he looked to the man and to his best friend, who seemed to be nervous and a bit embarrassed, before a look of adoration was brought upon his face. “You’re Fatgum?!” He gushed out excitedly. “Mom! You are going out with Fatgum!?” He shouted into the house, your laughter faintly responding from somewhere within the house, you appearing soon with a pair of heels in hand as you grabbed your purse from the counter.

“Yes, I am, why do you sound surprised? You think I’m too old to have a date or something?” You questioned, your son only responding with a laugh, now sitting up from his sprawled out position on the floor as you stepped up to the two boys, teasing kisses and hugs placed onto both. “Also....no rated R movies.” You said as you pointed a finger to them as you and Fatgum were now placing your shoes on at the front door, gaining a groan from Mirio as he let himself flop back onto the ground.

The date was going well, he was exactly the man he had portrayed himself to be through those many text messages shared between the two of you and those late hour phone calls. Now the two of you walked arm and arm throughout the area, watching the weekend groups of people weave in and out through small shops and food stands and through the sidewalks and streets.

“I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” You said as you let your head lean up against his arm with a content sigh exiting from your lungs. “And then look at you, you could have at least warned me! I hardly even recognized you...” You pulled your head away from his arm, giving him a playful punch to his arm.

“You still recognized me then? Tell me, what gave me away.” He asked with a laugh as his arm soon wrapped around you, hand resting upon your side.

“Your smile....it is kind of the most iconic feature about you as a hero and it looks the same even when you look like this, Fatgum.” You pointed out, leaning into his grasp around you.

“Hey....you know, you can call me Taishiro...” he soon said with a soft smile as he looked down to the ground, watching his feet moving with each footstep he took. “That’s my name, I think I can trust you knowing that.” He said as he looked to you, those words with that soft look upon his face only made your heart skip a beat, a blush now upon your cheeks as you gave him a smile. Soon, a kiss was shared, the both of you now blushing messes.

Two of you were now silently jogging through the hall of the apartment building you lived in, Taishiro’s hands upon your hips as the both you surpressed your giggles and laughter, his lips leaving kisses against your head and cheek as he stood behind you, hands rested at your sides, watching you pull out your keys, unlocking the door and stepping in, he coming in right after. The two of you soon peered out from entrance and into the living room area, seeing a movie, of course it was a horror movie that you were pretty sure was rated R, and the two boys on the floor, wrapped up in blankets and snoring away. You motioned him to follow you after your shoes were taking off along with his, quietly tiptoeing further into the apartment, opening a door to reveal your room, letting him in before closing the door.

“I know I told those two no rated R movies.” You said with a little laugh as you let yourself sit down in front of your vanity, hands already pulling the hair pins you placed in your hair earlier, Taishiro taking it upon himself to let himself sit down on the edge of you bed behind you, watching your reflection in the mirror. Watching your hair falling from their pinned places made his heart throb, the soft glow upon your face from the lamp on the vanity turned on just made him star struck over you.

“Oh they are big boys now, they hardly even seemed bothered by it, they are fast asleep out there.” He commented, watching you only shake your head in disapproval as you removed your jewelry next, soon turning around in the chair you sat in to look at him.

“I’ll wait for the day you have your own children, I’m sure your mind will be changed.” You said with a grin, turning back to look in the mirror. “Can you get the zipper?” You questioned as looked to him through the mirror, which he nodded his head, standing up and now behind you, fingertips gently brushing back your hair over your shoulder to finally gently pull down the zipper, finger tips leaving a soft graze upon the skin on your exposed back as he moved your hair back in place.

“You know....they are asleep...we could go back to my place for a bit...” he said half jokingly as he leaned down, lips gently pressing a few kisses to your cheek, you only blushing and shook your head. “With two kids here? I’ll have to pass you on that offer.” You said as you reached a hand to caress the back of his head, though his head soon shot up, looking to the door.

“What the fuck!?” He soon shouted, you worriedly looking over to where he was looking at, though your worry turned to anger as you looked to your bedroom door. Mirio’s face was poking through, the look of fear plastered on his face as the door now jiggled around.

“Tamaki! I’m stuck!” He shouted out, the whispers of ‘I don’t know what to do’ soon followed along with a tentacle or two poking from under the crevice of the bottom of the door. “What are with the tentacles?” He soon asked, panicking as he look to the tentacles crawling from under the door. Mirio’s face soon slid down to the floor and disappeared with him sucking a huge breath of air in.

“I don’t know! I’m panicking.” Soon stuttered out Tamaki’s voice at Mirio’s question. “Your clothes!” but you were already whipping the door open, revealing a cowering Tamaki and your son who was desperately trying to shove his clothes back on from activating his quirk. Taishiro could only stand behind you, a bright red blush upon his face in embarrassment of the whole situation on his face, but you were only fuming before the two boys.

“You were eavesdropping?” You accused, Mirio finally having his pants on properly, now finding himself in fear of your rage.

“Well....yeah....I just wanted to know if the two of you were going to plan on going on another date or if the date went well because, Uh...it’s cool that you’re dating Fatgum and I’m just really nosy....” you rambled on, Tamaki only seemingly trying to hide behind Mirio.

You only sighed and pinched your brow. “Go on the two of you, back to bed, I’m going to go show Fatgum out...” you said, the two boys quickly disappearing into his room and behind the safety of his door, you now standing in the living room, remote in hand to turn off the tv, the lights now on in the room.

“I am so sorry about that, I don’t know why my son thought that was a good idea.” You apologized, now looking over at him who now helped you by folding the blankets that were scattered on the floor, placing the pillows back onto the couch.

“Actually now looking back at it....it was pretty funny and plus why wouldn’t he? I would try to eavesdropping on the guy my mom is dating.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders as he followed you to the front door, his shoes being slipped back on. “But still....my place is still open.” He said with a tease, you only letting out a snort before pressing a tiny kiss to his lips.

“Another stunt like that and I just might.”

[keijislove]

Hufflepuff Idiot: Zacharias Smith X Reader

A/N: when I said I’d write for any HP character, I wasn’t lying.

"Remind me why the first meeting for this defence group is in the Hog's Head?" you whined to Hermione as the both of you were snarfing down your breakfasts. "Because the Three Broomsticks is too crowded." the girl replied, "Besides, Madame Rosmerta is the gossip magazine of Hogsmeade, no way will she not be poking into our conversation." "Yeah yeah, fine." you grumbled, "But I'm not eating anything from tat pub."

~~~~~

"So. Um, hi." Hermione nervously said to the students sitting on the tables in front of you. "You're probably wondering why we're here. We'll, we need a teacher. A real teacher. One who's had experience fighting against the Dark Arts." "Why?" came a voice, rather making the phrase sound like a statement than a question. You incredulously looked at the snooty-looking Hufflepuff sitting on the table to the right. You knew him, but you'd only seen him in Herbology a few times. "Why? Because You Know Who's back, you tosspot." Ron snapped at him. Zacharias didn't appear fazed, "So he says." He gestured to Harry. "So Dumbledore says." you said, getting annoyed yourself by his unconvinced face. "So Dumbledore says because he says." he said in a louder voice, "Point is, where's the proof?" "Excuse me." you angrily began, but Hermione nudged you and shook her head. Michael Corner took this as an opportunity to speak, "We thought you could tell us a bit more about how Diggory died." You rolled your eyes. Harry slowly rose from his seat,  "I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here, you might as well clear off." Everybody was silent, but you indistinctly heard the Hufflepuff mutter, "No proof." You sighed. This was going to be a long meeting.

~~~~~

"I mean, did you see his stupid face?!" you complained to Hermione for the hundredth time that week, "Where's the proof, I'll give him proof!" "Who's she on about?" Ron demanded, piling his plate. Hermione exasperatedly shook her head, "Smith. Zacharias Smith." "I mean can you not get irritated?!" you asked Ron, "Him and that stupid smirk of his is so bloody ANNOYING." "I'm annoying, now am I?" a voice asked, causing you to curse. "If you've come to be an arse, Smith, then sod off. I'm asking nicely." you warned. "Bold of you to assume I came to talk to you of all people." he rolled his eyes. "I was going to ask all of you where the meeting is today." "Room of Requirement." Hermione answered, "We've already told you that. Is it really why you're here?" "Okay fine I did come to talk to L/N." he snapped. "I just wanted to ask if you'd done your Herbology essay on Devil's Snare." "As a matter of fact, I have." you curtly replied, "You might want to take advice from me and do it as well." "Well, good then." he spoke, striding off. "What the hell?" you asked when he'd gone. Harry, who hadn't spoken in a while, smirked at you. "What?" "You know, Ron." he said quietly, "I think Smith here came to ask Y/N to Hogsmeade but chickened out last moment." "WHAT?"

~~~~

"Alright. Before we begin, I want to make sure that all of you have a partner. Seeing as to Abbott's away for the week and Longbottom is in the Hospital Wing again, why don't Smith and L/N work together instead? When your partners return, they can pair up instead. Sounds good? Alright, let's begin." You scoffed at the irony when Professor Sprout asked if it were alright with you and basically continued to ignore your protests. "Hello there. " said a voice as you groaned. "Seems we're together now." "Shut up Smith, just get on with the work." you snarled, grabbing a Tentacula leaf. "Hey, we're partners. I'm just making sure that we have a good bond. You don't need to call me Smith, by the way." "Yeah, thanks, I'll call you idiot instead." you snapped. "No." he said tartly, "You can call me Zach. Can I call you Y/N/N? I'm calling you Y/N/N." You suppressed a humongous groan. 

~~~~~

"Y/N/N." a voice childishly said, "I need a favor." 

"I'm not giving it, Smith." you answered. He ignored you, "Come to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?" "And what makes you think I'll do that?" you demanded. "Hey, come on." he tugged at your arm. Merlin this boy was annoying. "Just one weekend outing." He pouted. "I will not-" "Hem hem." Mentally swearing, you turned around, "I'm, m-morning, Professor." "Good morning, miss L/N." Umbridge smiled sweetly at you, "I see you are not following educational decree number forty seven. What does it state again, miss L/N?" "Students of the opposite gender must be within six feet of each other." you muttered. "Yes." she smiled further, "Well, miss L/N. I see this is one of the many ruled that you have broken. Do we think this calls for detention seeing as to you were not even an inch away from this young lad here? " "What?" you asked, "No! I mean, well-" "Were you or were you not just draped over young boy?" she asked. "Well-" "Professor, she wasn't. I-I came over and-" Zacharias began as your eyes widened. "I understand that you want to defend her." Umbridge smiled, "But be quiet unless you wish to be given detention alongside this young lady." Zacharias opened his mouth but you stomped on his foot before angrily speaking, "You don't even know what happened. You just want to give me detention." You clapped a hand over your mouth in horror. "I think we do need to be taught a lesson, yes?" * Umbridge said triumphantly. 

~~~~~

You were heading back to the Gryffindor common room when a hand seized you and pulled you to the side. You winced as your burning wound came in contact with a robe sleeve. "Oops sorry, I forgot." said the voice of the person you had never expected to pull you aside in the middle of the night. "Smith?!" you angrily asked, "Are you mental? Do you have a death wish?  We're both going to land in detention if we get caught! I'd probably get expelled!" "No, you won't, just hear me out okay?" he said desperately. He suddenly stopped, catching sight of your bloodied hand, the sentence 'I MUST NOT DISOBEY MY TEACHER'  clearly etched upon it. "She used the blood quill." he gasped, "That's... That's because of me." "What are you talking about?" "I asked you to come to Hogsmeade with me and broke the rule. I landed you in detention. I made you write with that quill. Me." he rambled. "Merlin, Y/N, I'm so sorry." "Wait, what?" you asked, "It's alright, not really your fault and-" "I caused the girl I like to get hurt." * he muttered, his eyes immediately widening after realising what he'd said. "You... You like me?" you quietly asked after a moment of silence. "Well, I, er... Yes." he admitted weakly, "For... Quite some time now." "Oh." was all you could say. "You should go, you'll... It's late." he muttered, red in the face. "Yes, I suppose..." you spoke, turning to leave. And you had no idea what in the name of Merlin's soggy trousers made you whip around and kiss Zacharias Smith's cheek before leaving hurriedly.

~~~~~

It was done. Umbridge was gone. The Ministry had finally accepted that Voldemort was back. You shivered, walking towards the Black Lake, hoping to find your bench empty. 

To your surprise, somebody was already sitting on it. And it didn't make you angry. Instead, you walked ahead and sat down next to the blonde Hufflepuff. 

"Oh, hi." he said when he saw you, scooting over to make room. "Hi." you smiled, "She's finally gone." "Yeah." he laughed slightly. You were silent for a moment. "Y/N-" "Zach-" You both giggled. 

"You first." you spoke. "Er, yeah." he awkwardly began, "Listen, I just want to say that I'm sorry. Again." You rolled your eyes. "I told you Zack, it's fine. She would've found a reason to put me in detention anyway." "Yeah but I still feel awful." he muttered, "What did you want to say?" "Well I was going to say I'd like to take up your offer from earlier." you spoke, "Hogsmeade this weekend?" "No way." his eyes widened, "You're serious?" "Of course I am." you feigned hurt. "I meant it." "I thought you said I was annoying?" he asked. "Don't make me change my mind, Smith." you warned. He smirked, "You wouldn't dare L/N." "And why not?" "Because you like me." I love simply answered, grinning widely. "That I do." you answered before leaning in to press your lips against his. A/N: how was it?

[shoyomeow]

BLUE HOUR

route masterlist can be found here

In all honesty, there was absolutely no part of Tadashi Yamaguchi that could honestly say ‘Ah, I saw this coming.’

He skimmed over the contents of the letter again, a faint smell of vanilla wafting into his nose. He couldn't help but crack a smile at that because he was more than aware of your preference of using scented papers for important things instead of just ‘plain old boring papers’

There was a massive part of him that wondered if this was all a humongous joke or prank at his expense, after all old insecurities die hard. 

As he mulled over his own plaguing thoughts, his gaze went back to the letter that he had found, the first ever confessional that was addressed to him.

“Oh hey there Yamaguchi ,

This seems so sudden and we barely know each other but, It seem it’s time for me to get this out.

 I like you.

 See? Sudden, I know.  There’s so much to talk about so let me say, ever since you were able to answer that question that’s been trying to be answered by pretty much the entire class, I couldn't get you out of my mind. There were plenty of things I haven’t noticed about you just like how your eyes sparkle with your smile or that you crack your fingers when you’re nervous and after your hair became longer you started pulling it instead of cracking your fingers or the fact that you actually don’t like your freckles (how could you not? They are so fucking adorable)

 We’ve exchanged plenty of sentences and it makes me happy. Thank you for that one time we cheated on the test together haha we were so chaotic. School seems so stressful but I felt okay once we started to talk each morning. 

I felt like we’ve gone through so much. Highs and lows, just a big mess. You added a lot of spice to my life and I’m thankful for that. I know you may not like me back. I mean, you know me quite well and it’s your decision.

 I’m not really the type to fall in love but it’s pretty much just you who I want. I’ll be finding more ways to talk to you, Yamagucci (hehe, see what I did there?)! 

More than words,

Your seatmate, Y/n L/n” 

You liked him. 

You liked him.

Up until now he was pretty fucking convinced that the one you liked was his incredibly charming and handsome best friend. And while he knew you were not the type of person to do that, he was under the impression that the only reason you ever bothered to talk to him was because you wanted him to introduce you to Tsukishima. 

You liked him, Tadashi Yamaguchi and, at this very moment, even as his back ached due to sitting on his desk for so long, he couldn’t help but let out an almost silent shriek of excitement. 

  The day he met you was painfully normal. 

It was in his first year of high school when he was still struggling about the fact that he wasn’t as good as his other teammates and he was just so damn exhausted about being a burden. 

Tsukishima had decided to head home slightly earlier, leaving Yamaguchi with his own plaguing insecurities as he walked home alone for the first time since elementary school and that was exactly when he saw you. Clad in simple khaki pants and a black hoodie, you were sitting on one of the swings in the park as you ate ice cream and belted out to whatever song it was that you were listening to through the thin wires of your earphones.

God you were such a horrible singer. 

But seeing you not care about anyone else being there and singing (more like butchering) a song that he had never heard before, Tadashi couldn’t help but be completely and utterly enamored. Even as the ice cream dribbled down your hands prompting you to lick it off, with your hair in a mess and your posture hunched; you were possibly the most beautiful person he had come across in his life.

Finding out that you went to the same school came as him was a pleasant surprise.

You had been on his mind for almost a week before he noticed that you studied in his school. He saw you standing at the gates on the day practice ended early, maybe you were waiting for a family member to pick you up or maybe you were simply not looking forward to go home yet but you had stood at the entrance for around fifteen minutes and Yamaguchi had simply watched you from the bicycle stand, not having enough courage to actually pass you by.

When he thought about that day now, he couldn’t help but feel like he was some sort of a creep back then to have done that. 

It became somewhat of a routine for him after that to intentionally pass by your class to catch a glimpse of you, seeing the pictures that you posted on social media (Tsukishima got irritated at him and used his phone to follow you. The relief he felt when he saw that you accepted his follow request is immeasurable) and simply fawning over you.

To this day he doesn’t know when his crush on you turned into something more. 

A little more than like but less than love. 

For the majority of his third year, after you became classmates, he had been under the impression that you liked his best friend.

Which was understandable considering how smart and handsome Kei Tsukishima was. That combined with the fact he had matured as a human being in the past two years (not much) made him the perfect person to fall in love with. Even though he knew that, the pain of losing someone who was never yours to begin with to your best friend led to a perpetual state of numbed heartbreak. 

  His finger hovered over the send button as he gave his text a onceover

“(your name), if it's not too much of a bother, may we meet? I would like to have a word with you regarding something that has recently come to my attention. If possible, can we meet in front of the university fountain in around ten minutes? 

Warm regards,

Tadashi Yamaguchi.”

What in the ever loving fuck was wrong with him?

This message was way too formal to be considered a text to a classmate, let alone a response to a confession. He hurried to use the backspace button only to realise that he had already sent it. 

And curse you for being on your phone so frequently because even before he could unsend it, you had already read it. 

Embarrassment flooded him as he read his own text once again. 

Tsukki would never let this go.

After ten minutes of mental prepping, tying and untying and then tying again of his long hair, Yamaguchi was finally ready (kind of) to confront and confess to the person he adored so much. 

“Yamaguchi-kun,” you approached him with a bright smile on your face and god, seeing you just made him remember why he liked you so much in the first place. Much like the first time he had met you, you were clad in khaki pants (possibly the same ones you wore back then) and a hoodie. The only difference was that the hoodie had your university's logo etched into it and he liked you so much more than he had all those years ago, “Is everything okay? Your message was a bit concerning.”

The fact that you seemed to be genuinely worried for him just warmed him to the core and made a bright blush spread across his skin. 

“(name)-san,” the green haired boy gulped as he felt the confidence he had built up fade away, “I got your letter.” 

“My letter?” the look of sheer befuddlement on your face made him want to backtrack. Was he right? Was the letter not meant for him after all?

Your gaze landed on the familiar pastel purple envelope that you had so carefully decorated with a dried flower and unadulterated embarrassment flooded you, “Um, Yamaguchi-kun how exactly did you get that?”

“Uh, through my letterbox?” Yamaguchi shoved the envelope in his pocket before his hand went up to his own hair - a sign of nervousness, “I’m so sorry I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to get that. I’m sure you no longer feel the same about me and I was mistaken so I apologize for that, you might’ve accidentally written my name when you meant to write someone else’s .” 

Your hand instinctively went to his own as you brought them down from his hair and effectively put a stop to his rambling, “It’s not like that.” It’s now or never bitch, you can do this shit, “The letter was meant for you, I just didn’t want you to find out like that.” 

Your hand left his own as you straightened your back and did your best to look straight into his eyes, ignoring the way you could feel your cheeks heat up, “I like you Yamaguchi-kun.” 

Some tiny sadistic part Yamaguchi wanted to spend more time relishing in the bright flush of your cheeks, and your own nervousness which was on par with his. But a much bigger part of him simply wanted to respond with his own confession and intertwine his hands with your own. 

So, channeling all the confidence that he usually reserved for the volleyball court, Tadashi Yamaguchi tentatively took your hand in his, relishing in the way your breath hitched, “I like you too. And if it’s alright with you, I would very much like to date you.”

The fact that his voice shook as he spoke to you and the fact that he was blushing as much as you was comforting you as you smiled softly at him, “I would be more than alright with that Yamaguchi-kun.” 

“If you’re comfortable with it, then can you please call me by my first name?”

The bright smile that bloomed on your face made his heart race in the best way possible, “Okay, Tadashi.”

[seostudios]

happy without me: all about luv - h.rj

ALL ABOUT LUV ‣ HAPPY WITHOUT ME

just face it, she’s happy without you. but i don’t believe it, is she really?

paring: huang renjun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.5k

info: exes to lovers!au, non-idol!au, college!au, cousin!jaemin

warnings: sensitive themes, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, toxic relationship, mention of rape and sexual assault, sexual assault, explicit/vulgar language 

tag list: @jenotation @luvlyjaemin @woofie-nctzen-fanarts-320 @tzuqui @sunnyrenjunnie @nino7011 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @minhehe @chrspychan @jimelonji @mykokorobeats4u @aminihhj @jeonjungkat @wishfulldreamss @ilymarkchan @ja3hy4n @beautifulbakerycookiegiant @jisungiepwark52 @sharamanne @commentgirl @littlefluu @chicksung​ @lixseu​ @jenosgirlllll​

a/n: i’m sorry this is so short i did renjun dirty :( i got writers block writing it but it’s ok! ill do better on the next one which is chenle or jeno (prolly jeno) i gotta chekc but yay finally part 2 to all about luv

APRIL IN JEJU

It's been 7 months since you've parted ways with your first love. You two were the supposed high school sweethearts of your year so it confused most of the other students when they found out. Renjun and you were meant for one another but the fact he decided on attending SKKU since had received a scholarship for his outstanding academic records, he couldn't turn down the offer and was determined on enrolling however you were attending Cheju Halla University which was all the way in Jeju City. That was a 55-minute plane ride away from Renjun! Avoiding the future relationship problems to come from long-distance you two would most likely face, the breakup was mutual and you two parted ways at the airport indulging in a rather pitiful hug.

Here you were, walking through the Department of Equine Science, trailing behind your friends Soomin and Mina. It was the first time you decided to skip class and it was thrilling in your opinion, "Come on, they're waiting!" Soomin whisper-yelled. They?

You make sure to ask her who 'they' were since you and Mina weren't standing dumbfounded and possibly in trouble. "The volleyball team dummy," Soomin says skipping to past the classrooms into Gym A. It brought you back to the old times, visiting Renjun during Soccer practice, making sure he's well-fed and not overworked. Quickly snapping out of it you join the girls on the bleachers to cheer on the boys. Although you are able to tell people you've moved on from your first love, you've spent restless nights looking back at your messages, pictures just reminiscing the past.

The butterflies he's caused you still flutter every now and then hoping their commotion was heard and you've finally made the big move back to Seoul but sadly you haven't gotten up and gone yet.

Tonight you were preparing for a mini-quiz, it so happened that Mina shared the class with you. Scheduling a sleepover at Soomin's place here you all are sitting in her living room stuffing your faces with whatever salty and sweet treats her mom had bought. "Oh. My. God." Mina tells you after reading your DM request on Instagram, "What?" you ask confused over what she thought was so extraordinary. She motions Soomin to look at your earning a surprised what the fuck from the girl. "Min-fucking-Ho wants to DM you... He's like one of the hottest guys in our division and has never been seen with a girl so wanting to text you definitely a what the fuck moment. You shake your head before opening the DM request..."He's asking me out for dinner?" You say which Soomin demands you to accept the offer before he moves on. "You've gotta move on from Renjun you know? He won't come by swooping you by the legs asking you for his hand in marriage. He's all the way in Seoul Y/n, I'm pretty sure he's moved on by now with someone else it's time you do too. Now hand e your phone so I can tell him you want to go on that date." Mina tells you after you attempt to reject Minho. She gave you the truth even if it hurt (a lot), you sigh in defeat handing over your phone.

"Can't believe you're going on a date with Minho," Soomin says watching Mina type away. "I know right, lucky girl" Mina replies as you nod. 

APRIL IN SEOUL

Meanwhile, at SKKU Renjun's majoring in Arts & humanities. Languages, Literature & Linguistics which has been taking up most of his time keeping his mind off his recent split. He was devastated the first week but had to obviously push it aside if he wanted extraordinary marks just like in high school, even if he wanted his thoughts to be occupied with your figure in his head he simply couldn't know his classes were paying attention to him along with the other honor students that attended on a scholarship.

"Is that your girlfriend?" Jeno, Renjun's only friend at Sungkyunkwan asked. He's got to know Renjun for who he was today but he's never really opened up about his life before University. Jeno noticed Renjun staring at your recent Instagram post for a little too long to not think you were at least flirting in direct messages. "No," He said quick and panicky before shoving his phone back into his pocket, after relaxing he turns to Jeno. "She's my ex, we broke up 7 months ago." Jeno's mouth goes agape momentarily in realization, "Why? If you don't mind me asking..." He asked the smaller boy beside him. "She went to Jeju for University when SKKU was just a 20-minute train ride from our neighborhood," Renjun replied with a scoff recollecting the memory of the day you told him you got accepted into Cheju Halla. Jeno nods understandingly deciding to continue studying instead of riling him up.

JULY IN JEJU

A full three months have passed and you were still in the first place you were in back in April, heartbroken. Although a lot of things have drastically changed since April it had only made you feel worse about yourself. For starters, you've been 'dating' Minho since April even if you realized on the first date he had only wanted you to fulfil his sexual desires. He's strung his act long enough and you've tried breaking up with the boy for a month now but he won't let you, he's always threatening you "I'll tell the school what type of whore you are."  or something about inflicting pain on someone close to you like Soomin or Mina, which is why you've kept quiet for about the last three weeks.

You were in pulled harshly by the arm by Minho as he pulled you into the supply closet of the Gymnasium, “Minho, I don’t want you to touch me there,” You politely ask the boy who’s currently taking advantage of his supposed spouse. “I don’t even want to date you! Why do you keep acting like this- Let go!” You whisper-yell to Minho who’s trailing his hands up and in between your thighs. "Shut up," He simply tells you before snaking his hand to your mouth shutting you up as you let out a choked cry.

JULY IN SEOUL

"She looks so happy with that Minho, right?” Renjun asked Jeno, scrolling through your tagged post. “I mean from what we know yeah,” He tells him. Renjun sighs, he knew he would genuinely be happy for you if you moved on but it had seemed rather quick. "It's almost been a year, she's moved on. Why don't you?" Jeno asked innocently. Renjun had a gut feeling of some sort; telling him not to move on and instead of ignoring it like you (which brought you nowhere since you're still deeply in love with him) did he's just kept a close eye on you. Shaking his head no he tells Jeno, "Something isn't right about.." He lifts the  phone to the photo of you and Minho, Mina had tagged you in, "That."

DECEMBER IN JEJU

"I promise I'll text you, I just need to get off this freaking island for winter break at least." You tell Mina and Soomin on Face-time, "Okay we will miss you! How did Minho take this? It's your first Christmas together and you leave?" She asked worriedly. You mumble a fuck before looking at the camera. "I didn't tell him," You say earning gasps from the two. "He's your boyfriend though.." Soomin said; "Who doesn't treat me like a fucking human being." Your words were strong, rippling a wave of awkwardness, "I'm fine by the way I’m staying with my cousin Jaemin, but if I don't come back it’s cause he spoilt me into staying."

DECEMBER IN SEOUL

"Merry Almost Christmas!" Renjun screeches before entering his shared apart with his new friend group, Jeno had introduced Renjun to his best pal, Jaemin and Renjun had taken in a very lonely Haechan later introducing him to the two. Today they were all celebrating their first Christmas together with a classic holiday film and cupcakes every day until Christmas.

"Guys we have a guest today!" Jaemin sings opening the door widely to show a shorter girl beside the boy with a suitcase in hand.

"What are you doing here?" Renjun and you said simultaneously as you locked eye contact. "I'm visiting Jaemin, my cousin." You tell him hands moving into the air to point towards the boy, "I am Jaemin's roommate." He responded before getting up from the couch brushing off the crumbs off his lap before walking towards the door to stand in front of you. He hadn't grown any taller still rocking his tiny 5'7 figure, but tall enough to tower over you, who hadn't grown since freshman year.

"She's here." Jeno tells Renjun who's head is under the pillow, "She's here." Jeno repeats, "She's here, She's here," Renjun whispered to himself taking it all in. He always wished for you to get off the fucking island go back into his arms, transferring to SKKU, knowing you had the skill to land a spot without hesitation, but finally seeing you after 10 months of no contact was frightening to him. Why did you seem so brittle? You looked pained, it wasn't his job to care about you anymore, but he couldn't help himself. He loved you more than himself and there's a (humongous) chunk of him that still did. Renjun gets up and sits crisscrossed on the single bed across from Jeno's bed where he was idling on his phone laying down "She's here but she's not here." He said which caught Jeno's attention, his face wrinkling in confusion. "She's not okay, something's wrong. I know it," He finishes getting up to walk out to you- who's catching up with Jaemin in the kitchen while preparing for dinner, stopping immediately as a rush of nerves came over him telling him to stop.

"Hope you boys like Hotteok!" You said facing Jeno and Haechan who were smiling in awe of your cooking skills, "I know Injun and Jaems like it so I made it tonight." You cheerfully smile towards the other two boys. “Glad to see you remembered,” It took a lot for Renjun to even say a sentence to you without having a gaze on you for a little too long afterwards.

It was his chance, he walked out of the bedroom the moment he saw you walk by his door towards the guest room. "Can I come in?" He asked. "Of course Injun," You couldn't believe yourself, being so calm and comfortable with all the tension. Had it really been ten months? He thought to himself as he sat beside you on the bed. "So," He rubbed his thighs nervously "How've you been?" Horrible. You stare down at the carpet admiring it while you figure a way to lie to the boy who knew you better than you knew yourself. "Fine,  I've been..." You sigh avoiding eye contact, "Fine." He looks at you concerned, "You can't lie to me Y/n." Grabbing your hand caressing it for a second knowing it relaxed you a bit in tough scenarios. Suddenly your phone began to ring, grabbing to read the caller id. "Oh, should I go?" Renjun asked after reading the contact name 'Minho' "No!" You shouted quickly grabbed his wrist pulling him back down before he walked out. Declining the call you spoke, "I'd talk to you over anyone any day." Damn, when did I get so smooth You mentally note that smirking to yourself slightly watching as Renjun bursted into a frenzy of laughter, "Smooth," He comments.

"So, was that Minho guy...your boyfriend?" He asked in which you replied with a strong No. "Well," You started "A boyfriend is someone who listens to me someone who values my opinions and beliefs. Someone who is truly interested in what you enjoy doing, or what you like most in life and interested in who I am as a person." You pause to see him grab you hand intertwining your hand, quickly signalling you to continue. "Someone who makes me laugh, or trusts me. But more importantly, disrespect me and force me into," Tears collected in your eyes threatening to fall, "Things." Renjun knows what to do to comfort you quickly pulling you into his embrace, melting when you wrap around him, head in the crook of his neck sobbing quietly. "He made me do things Renjun-ah. Horrible things. I hate him so much, I can't break up with him. Figured running away would've been a better option." He strokes your hair telling you it's okay and to relax. He couldn't help but smile though; he was right. He knew, he knew something was off and made it his number one priority to find out what it was, who would've known you would open up and make your first actual conversation with your ex- whom you dated for a nearly all of senior year about the toxic relationship you found yourself in after him.

JANUARY IN SEOUL

"I got to leave tomorrow." You told Renjun, whom you rekindled an old flame with over your stay. C

"Do you think about me sometimes? 'Cause I think about you sometimes" You asked Renjun looking at him from the mirror, as he watched you do your hair for an outing with your cousin. After that night in your bedroom, you decided on hanging out more and became close friends once more. But the butterflies in your stomach didn't leave, instead, they emitted flying more enthusiastically near him, with him. "I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time," He said, which made you look down to the floor before turning around to face him. "It made me so jealous knowing you were so far away with that disgusting bastard happy without me" He grabs your hand; which you intertwine your fingers with happily a smile dancing upon your lips watching him reciprocate it.

"Stay." He tells you. You cuddle into his embrace as he caressed the top of your head. The two of your legs entangled under the sheets having one of your midnight talks. "You know I can't," You start quickly zipping your mouth not wanting to go any further, "Students who have outstanding academic records, or who have financial difficulties, who have submitted a complete scholarship application," Renjun said, which just made your jaw drop. Did he do his research?  "You can still enroll for the second semester which starts in two weeks. Have your friends send your belongings." He finished watching as you lifted yourself up resting your head in your palm. "Really?" You asked, breath taken away to say more. Could you really live here in Seoul? With Renjun? "Yes, I can kick Jeno into the guest room while we can have this room all to ourselves." He kissed the top of your hand watching the cheeky smile erupt from you with giggles. "We can be together." You said- asked to yourself, "We can be together" Renjun tells you before pulling you back. 

[curekibouka-writing]

Forgo-able (Tropical Rouge Precure one-shot fanfic)

Summary: How much can you pay for power to protect those dear to you?

Word count: 2783

A/N: I usually don’t write for ongoing seasons but since this is an AU I’ll just go for it. So… I’m not too satisfied with episode 17, La Mer’s debut episode deserves better. Therefore I decided to tweak it because I’m just that bastard who will do anything to make angst out of everything. ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

*This fic is also on FF.net, Quotev and AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have you children heard of the legend of the wish-granting sea witch?” said an aged yet gentle voice, Laura recognised it as the voice of the kind old lady in her neighbourhood. Then she found herself seated among fellow merfolk children, eager to hear the evening tale. 

“This is an old legend, much more ancient than myself. Once upon a time, dwelling in the darkest, most unsightly corners of the ocean was a very powerful sea witch. Should merfolk or other creatures have desires they could not quench through ordinary means, they knew she would lend an ear.”

“That’s mighty nice of her!” a boy chirped merrily. 

“Well… perhaps, as long as you can pay the price. For if she were to grant your wish, she asked not of trifles in return. She snatches nothing short of your best possessions. You, the one with the book, might have to forsake your quick wits. And you, sweet child, might’ve had your lovely eyes gouged out. 

“It is said that the sea witch discovered a way to preserve her soul before she passed away. She is now one with the water, lurking around nooks and crannies. And if she happens upon a greedy creature, she would surely lure them with her beautiful voice, in hopes that one day she may be paid with a body, a host, or even a life.” the old lady finished with an ominous undertone. 

Most children shivered in fear, inwardly swearing to never be blinded by greed or desires. But young Laura was not intimidated. 

Confidently pounding on her chest, she declared, “Who needs a shady sea witch to grant wishes? I’ll be a queen in the future, and I’ll make it happen myself!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laura removed her hand from her chest, but she found that something was obstructing it. Slowly she came to her senses, opening her eyes, and concluding that she must’ve been dreaming of her childhood days. 

But why was she unconscious in the first place? 

She found her answer soon enough, for she was lying in a pile of stone debris. 

She shoved the rubbles off of her, promptly recoiling as a stinging sensation oozed out from the flesh of her hands. 

Looking at the black and purple bruises on her pale, delicate hands, now she remembered that she had been captured by the Witch of Delays, and she had been thrashing on the dungeon gate, demanding to be freed. 

Certainly Manatsu and the rest were on their way here by following the bubble pictures she left behind, she would get out of this dreadful place one way or another. 

But how embarrassing would it be for a future queen to let a mere gate stand in her way? You see, she had a duty, a noble one at that. She must retrieve the Aqua Pot, without it, the Precure would have no means to recover stolen motivation. 

In other words, those girls are simply hopeless without her. And she cannot have them being defeated so soon, they still have much to do, in order to secure her future position as queen. 

But if the bruises were indications of anything, it was that more thrashing on the gate wouldn’t get her anywhere. 

As she brushed away the last bit of rubble on her, she finally realised that something must’ve broken enough to make this much wreckage. She quickly whipped her head up, and there she saw a literal glimmer of hope — light seeping through a hole in the thick walls. 

Right now she could care less about why the walls were broken, she slipped through without a second thought. 

If she continues to find openings to swim up, she’d find her way back to the Witch’s chamber in no time. She’d sneak away with the Aqua Pot when the Witch is sleeping, then she’d return to the surface and reunite with the others as soon as possible. 

She just wasn’t expecting it to be this soon. 

Clashing and clanging noises pierced through the rippling water from the far end of the corridor, and Laura’s first instinct was to avoid whatever disaster ensuing there. But then she heard those familiar voices, shouting. 

“Arrrrgh this is never-ending! We need to go find Laura and we can’t get anywhere like this!” 

‘Manatsu!’ Laura inwardly exclaimed, her lips curling into a relieved grin, ‘They’re here!’ 

“Papaya! Got a plan?” 

The usual nonchalant voice came in an exhausted huff, “His attacks are too quick, it’s taking me everything just to dodg—“ 

Her sentence was cut off by the sound of the floorboard collapsing in the wake of Chongire’s oversized pincers, most likely the culprit behind the wrecked dungeon as well. 

Laura knew full well her top priority was to recover the Aqua Pot. But how would Manatsu put it? “Do what’s most important right now!”, was it? 

And right now there was nothing more important than letting these girls — who had ventured all the way to the depths of the ocean for her — know she was safe. So that they could stop fighting and stop searching and everyone could return in one piece. 

With that in mind, Laura snuck behind the half-demolished walls, biding her time to reveal herself and grab everyone and go. 

But witnessing a certain seahorse creeping up behind Cure Summer with his weapon in hand, she paled, and screamed, “SUMMER!!!” 

The Cure’s ears perked up, whirling to Laura’s direction at once, “Laura!? Laura!! You’re okay!” 

“NO! Summer! Behind you—“ 

A blast of water swept Cure Summer across the area and slammed her into the back wall. And while the rest of the team was distracted, Chongire flung them at a stone pillar, cracking it in the process. 

“No…!” Laura exclaimed, but before she could hurry to them, she found Butler’s cane at her throat. 

“Such a headstrong little mermaid,” the seahorse commented flatly, grabbing her wrist, “Now back to the dungeon you go. Can I leave the rest in your claws, Chongire-san?” 

“Ain’t feeling it… let’s get it over with quickly.” 

“NO! STOP IT! ” Laura kept screeching as Chongire closed in on Summer, and as Butler dragged her away, “Let go of me! Mark my words, you all will pay for this!!”

Swinging down his pincer, Chongire dealt a heavy blow right on Cure Summer’s head. A string of bubbles slipped from Summer’s lips, her transformation dispersed with them. 

Shutting her eyes, Laura snapped her head to the other side, breath hitching. But once she did, she couldn’t hear the horrid battle noises anymore. Instead… 

“My my, what a poor unfortunate soul,” a beautiful voice resounded around her. So captivating it was that it sent chills down her spine, yet it honeyed her ears at the same time, “Come, child, tell me how might I be of help.” 

Her eyes shot open, but she found her surroundings dark and hazy. “Who are you? Show yourself!”

“There’s no need to be afraid,” the voice soothed, and Laura felt an urge to do as it said, “Besides, are you certain your time should be squandered on this? If my eyes didn’t fail me, I seem to recall seeing your companion on the verge of death.” 

“If you know that then send me back to them this instance!” 

“Oh but what can you do, little mermaid? What power do you have?” 

None. Laura gulped down the word before it was spoken. 

“Now what if I grant you your wish?” the voice giggled shrilly next to her right ear, and she felt two shining golden eyes boring into her, but she saw nothing as she spun around. 

“…you would?” she probed tentatively, unsure of what answer she was expecting. 

“Why yes, dear, I can give you power, power the same as your companions, nay, even more potent… As long as you pay the toll to cross the bridge, of course.”

“But I’ve nothing I can give.” 

“You belittle yourself, child! I see you have quite the dazzling pride in yourself, quite the humongous dream you work hard to achieve. I see those as fine payment, yes, I shall have you go about your life without them, yes yes, so reimburse me with—“ 

Laura was certain there was nothing within sight, yet when the next words were enunciated, she felt a hand lifting her chin, and she felt if she gazed upward, she would’ve seen a monster. A beautiful, humane, yet monstrous monster. 

“Your tail.” 

“My tail…?” she breathed, “But then how would I—“ 

“Yes, yes, you have to battle, don’t you? And it wouldn’t do if you can’t move around. So I shall give you human legs instead. A sweet deal, isn’t it? Am I not such a saint to grant both your wishes at once?” 

“My tail…” she repeated. Yes, being human seemed fun, but being human forever was a whole other story. She’d be sacrificing her home, her identity, and most of all, her dream…

“Come on, dear, I don’t have all day,” the voice pressed, “And neither does your companion. What is there to hesitate?” 

By all means, she agreed. The most important thing right now is none other than to save her friends. After all, she cannot have them being defeated so soon, they still have much to do. There is still a myriad of human delicacies they must let her sample, still a few club activities that she hadn’t proposed to them, still many beautiful scenery they must bring her to see. 

In all her haughtiness, she declared, “So be it! But try as you might, you will never take away my dream. You can take away the means I use to achieve it, but never my spirit. This dream is mine and mine alone, and I’ll make it happen myself!” 

“But,” she balled her hands into fists, her bruises slightly aching from the tension, “what queen would sit by and do nothing when those who fought for her are suffering? If I don’t even have the power to protect my friends, how will I ever protect my people? So take my tail as you wish, and grant me the strength I need!” 

“The deal is sealed!” the voice announced, delighted. Laura felt an excruciating twinge at her waist, as if her body was being torn in half, and it plunged her mind into a haze. Before she knew it,  she felt a bizarre tug in her lower limb— no, she realised, two limbs. 

A stone with a quaint shape dropped into her hands, cracking to reveal shimmering pinkish and bluish colours. She glanced at the ring with similar hues on her middle finger, and with a somewhat relieved smile on her lips, she shouted fiercely, “Precure! Tropical Change!” 

She was returned to the battlefield, with everything as it was as if barely a few seconds had passed. She effortlessly broke away from Butler’s grip, while everyone was stunned by her transformation, she bolted to her fallen friend. 

With a roundhouse kick, she sent Chongire tumbling, crashing into Butler. Now she held Manatsu in her arms, and knew that she didn’t have a moment to waste. 

With a wave of her hands, she manipulated the current to create a vertical column of water, an upward rapids in the middle of the ocean. 

“Everyone, retreat!” she called to the other three Cures, “I’ll send you back to the surface in no time, but hurry!” 

Papaya seemed to still be recovering from the previous attacks, so Coral took her hand and led the way, nodding a ‘thank you’ to Laura before they were gone. 

“Y’all ain’t going anywhere!” Chongire charged at Laura, claws raised high, knowing that her hands were too full to defend herself. 

A battle cry whooshed by from her left side, then she saw Cure Flamingo countering Chongire’s attack with a punch of her own, followed by a swift front flip, gaining momentum to deliver a fierce kick to the giant crab’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go!” the redhead urged. Together they traveled up the water column, reaching the surface in less than a minute, leaving behind a razed battlefield, their Aqua Pot, and a few sentiments the poor little mermaid had yet been allowed the time to savour. 

Manatsu regained consciousness quickly after they arrived at shore, albeit followed by a series of hacking coughs. Nevertheless, the Cures all heaved a relieved sigh as they stroked her back to mitigate her pain. 

“Laura…? You have legs!?!?” was the first thing Manatsu exclaimed after she could breathe smoothly again. 

“I’m human now,” Laura elucidated, grasping at her own elbows and realising her fins were not there. 

“How?” “Why?” 

“Because…” she glanced at Minori for a split second, “To fulfil a certain wish, something else — something precious — may need to be given up.” 

She appeared reluctant to continue explaining, so Sango quickly shifted the topic, “Did you manage to retrieve the Aqua Pot?” 

“No… and Kururun is presumably still in it,” Laura briefly shivered at the thought, “But none of you is in any condition to infiltrate their lair again, especially not Manatsu. Rest well tonight, we should discuss this in the morning.” 

There were affirmative nods as they turned around to leave the shore. But Laura stood still. 

“Laura? Aren’t you coming? Hey, you can crash at my place if you want!” Manatsu offered enthusiastically. 

“Thank you,” Laura replied with a small smile, “But I… I want to stay here for a while.” 

“Okay! Then I’ll sta—" Manatsu began, but was held back by Asuka with a commanding hand on her shoulder, “I’ll sta….stand and wait for you at the beach entrance!” 

Laura nodded half-heartedly. She meandered along to the shoreline, then onto a small breakwater that came into her sight. 

The uneven stones in the structure felt like knives against her bare feet. Or was she just imagining things, because it was that painful to be surrounded by the ocean knowing that it was no longer where she belong? 

She sat down on the outer rocks, soaking her legs in the sea, the coolness of water permeated her flesh as the velvet waves caressed her aching feet. 

In the world below, the water embraces her, it’s with her wherever she goes, the current leads her way and the tide clears her path. Likewise, her aspirations had always dictated her direction, always kept her motivated in a straight route. 

Perhaps she’d strayed far, too far. Now there was no return. And now all that remained were sea foam clinging to her legs as the waves left her behind, ephemeral, untouchable. 

It wasn’t as if she regretted her choice, and yet for some reason a droplet trickled down her cheek. She perceived it was salty when it reached her lips, and she convinced herself it was but sea water dripping from her drenched hair. 

She so boldly proclaimed that she would not give up on her dreams after all, and a queen must never go back on her words. 

Moreover, a queen must always carry herself with dignity and grace, even if nobody was around to see her tears. 

But more than anything, today, for the first time, she felt the weight of a life. When she held Manatsu in her arms, she felt paralysed, she felt like sinking, she felt a predator chow down on her lower limbs and she had to fight for every second because if she were to be late for even one— 

She shuddered, haling her legs out before something pulls her into the water, before fear pulls her into a trance. 

As queen, she would be entrusted with thousands upon thousands more of those weights, plagued with choices and… and sacrifices much more harrowing than something merely affecting her own well-being. 

Then there’s no room for lingering on a price already paid, is there?  

She picked herself up, trodding on the rocky path from which she came and letting the little knives stab at her feet. Surely this pain would become a valuable lesson in her becoming a queen as well, a reminder that no success comes for free. 

Surely she’d learn things on land that she could not under the sea, things that’d help her return with the confidence to be a better queen, one that knows of ambitions, and risks, and how to do what’s most important. 

And so she shall never forget the day she left the ocean, the day she was severed from her roots, the day she took yet another step closer — not farther — to her dream. 

“Wait for me, oh great ocean, I will come back to you,” she muttered as the sea breeze ushered her onward, “I swear on the name of Cure La Mer.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Just wanna clarify that this sea witch is NOT Ursula. I know I made a ton of Disney references (and I even have a sentence specifically pointing at Flotsam and Jetsam), but I want this sea witch to be unnamed like in Hans Christian Andersen’s original tale. I made the references for a reason, but the sea witch's identity is up to your interpretation. 

[amwritingmeta]

15x14: Striking A Balance

This is late. I fell behind. Life happens. I still haven’t watched 15x15. Gah! But now to some thoughts on 15x14...

I thought this was a great episode the first time I watched it. Then I thought it was a bloody fantastic episode the second time I watched it, and the third time… well, it just gets better and better. I’m thoroughly looking forward to the final six. I hope you are too. 

I hope you’re as well as you can be and that you’re not living in a stress bubble. They’re the worst. I’d hand you a big old needle if I could. Maybe this meta can be some sort of needle (for popping), because at least I don’t feel the ending of this show is anything we need to stress about. I do believe it’s going to be utterly spectacular. *all the faith*

So I spent a chunk of lockdown watching this show of ours. I started at 12x19 (that episode still makes me tremble with its sheer brilliance) through to 15x13, and felt an overwhelming satisfaction at the evenness of the storytelling for these last three-ish seasons. 

A brief breakdown of three years of meta writing would be: Dean has been pushed to face, recognise and dismantle his internalised toxic masculinity traits aka his Shadow (which has been the root of unhealthy coping mechanisms and an inability to put down boundaries, communicate openly and handle his emotions), he’s been pushed to see the strength and power of his feminine traits (his nurturing side, his compassion, his protective nature) through being put in situations where he’s had no choice but to open up to being honest with himself, in turn bringing him on a course to him handling his emotions better, as well as the narrative giving us moments where he’s gotten the chance to acknowledge and embrace his neglected inner child. 

Yes, Jungian doctrine runs like a river through it, what can I say? I’m a fan.

With Dean as our protagonist, Sam and Cas are both on mirroring journeys, though Sam is Dean’s mirror opposite and Cas is Dean’s mirror likeness. It doesn’t take away from the individual journeys of Sam and Cas: it’s just that their choices and their progression are not determining the course of the narrative. Rather, their choices and progression work to underline and highlight Dean’s growth. Sam and Cas are main characters, but they’re not driving the core of the plot. 

Make sense? Cool!

Especially as this also means that Dean’s progression is pivotal for all three of them to actually reach… well, since it’s a word used twice this season why shouldn’t we just go with it? — completion. 

Which is why my eyes are happily peeled for Dean having moments that display a deepened sense of self-understanding (like his prayer to Cas, where Dean put words on the anger he’s always feeling and how he doesn’t know why or where it’s coming from) (an enormous step toward actually dealing with that emotion) (as self-deception through denial caused by fear of weakness tied to fear of rejection and fear of failure — that’s a mouthful — has always formed Dean’s biggest internal obstacle) because neither Sam nor Cas should, when we look at the narrative as a whole, be able or allowed to reach full completion (or individuation, to use Jungian terms) without Dean getting there first, or at least being shown to be well on his way to getting there.

This episode then is more of an epicsode, because, man, do we get to explore balanced!Dean, and it’s all through Jack: the narrative representation of Dean’s inner child.

Oh, yeah. Way I see it, Jeremy Adams brought us right back to the threads he was pulling on in Scoobynatural. *bless his brain* Only this time he’s pushed it a step further and rather than Dean simply facing his inner child—as (14x16 whoops I mean) 13x16 opened up that can of worms—now, in 15x14, Dean is forced to properly acknowledge and embrace that inner child. I mean. The mind crackles. The feels are cascading like a waterfall over a great cliff. The excitement, people, is real.

Let’s dig in!

Sam and Dean

They were glorious this episode!!

So Sam ended up tortured a little, but that was because he was shooting first, asking questions second, and sure, Mrs. Butters had gone a bit crazy, but as he learned: it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her nature, the crazy had been torture-nurtured into her.

And Dean was faced with yet one more reminder of how kindness, compassion and protectiveness can go haywire when there’s influence from toxic masculinity (aka Cuthbert Sinclair) pushing someone into a position of mistrust, insecurity and need for control. 

Let me reiterate the fact that when I’m talking masculine/feminine I’m not tying these concepts to gender, though of course these concepts have been tied to gender traits to the point of brainwashing people into thinking they should dictate what is male and what is female. (mental) Rather I mean all of our internal masculine/feminine traits that need to find balance if we are each to feel happy and content as human beings. 

It’s Tao, and it’s Jung, and it’s beautiful. Is all I’m saying. 

Digression.

My point is that in spite of sorting stuff out in their individual arcs, the brotherly relationship was depicted awesomely this episode, with Dean being 1000% supportive of Sam going to get itches scratched with Eileen, to the point of feeling he would rather just handle the sudden turn of events and this new threat by himself, than disrupt Sam and Eileen’s fun times (and by “fun times” I mean sex), and Sam going along for the joyride of holiday celebrations, home cooked meals and the supportive, warm and caring mother figure that they’re both, again, missing in their lives.

Sam was submissive this episode, following Dean’s opinions on how to best handle Jack (even with Dean being disastrous in the past when stating what Jack needs) which is somewhat frustrating, because Sam has so much more in him, but he also got to show that humongous heart of his, where he understood the root cause of Mrs. Butters’ behaviour and showed compassion, rather than judgement. His compassion has always been one of his most formidable strengths. 

And, of course, Sam had to ride sidesaddle this episode because if he was putting up any sort of protest—regarding accepting Mrs. Butters as part of the bunker or how best to deal with Jack— Dean wouldn’t have gone through the push for progression, delivered through the representation of his inner femininity that is Mrs. Butters, but primarily through the representation of (and here we go into the deeper digging) his inner child—Jack.

Dean and Jack

You know, end of the episode Dean states what is evident throughout: he’s trying. 

In the opening scene he asks Sam if Jack’s come out of his room, and then he’s the one who goes and knocks on Jack’s door to warn him about Mrs. Butters, placing trust in Jack that he can handle it and will call them if anything gets weird, and he cajoles Jack to come out with the promise of snickerdoodles. All of this subtly shows us that Dean knows what Jack is suffering, and we can be sure of that because we know he’s been there enough times.

The guilt, the self-blame, as well as the self-doubt underpinning it all, making it difficult to forgive. 

Because, thing is, Jack is struggling to forgive himself. To accept that it was an accident. He’s waiting for Dean’s forgiveness to give him a marker for whether it’s okay for him to even begin to forgive himself, which is understandable on all the levels of his character progression, but especially when looking at him as a representative of Dean’s inner child.

So then, why is Dean acknowledging, embracing and nurturing his inner child important?

Because, when looking at the narrative from the angle where it’s filled with symbolisism to do with Dean’s internal journey (and by extension the internal journeys of all the characters), then Dean’s progression, and especially lack there of, has been closely tied to the fact that he never got to be a kid. 

He had to grow up fast, got responsibility put on him that was way out of proportion for a four year old child, had to be a father and a mother to his younger brother, and learned to repress and suppress his childish urges, wants and needs through unhealthy coping mechanisms in order to dress himself in the image of the strongerst person that he’s ever known: his father.

(which is a misnomer because there was plenty of weakness to John Winchester) (especially how he was a highly emotional man who spent the years after his wife’s death driven by grief, but hammered it into his eldest son that emotions are weaknesses that will get you killed and you should control them to the point of barely being able to recognise them anymore) 

It’s imperitive for Dean to deal with the neglect he suffered in his childhood, rather than ignore it, if he’s ever going to be able to let those wounds heal over. And letting them heal over is important because pushing down trauma leaves it room to influence our choices and to keep us in old patterns of behaviour. Because self-denial and self-neglect is where our Shadow lives and thrives—our unconscious gaining power over us and dictating our behaviour even as we’re unaware of it.

Remember how Jack swallowed Michael? Remember how Michael was Dean’s Shadow representative? It’s not by accident that what Dean has left to confront, fully, is self-trust, self-forgiveness and finding his way to real self-love, symbolically given to us in this narrative through his treatment of Jack.

Because Jack is the final piece of Dean’s internal puzzle: his inner child in need of some real TLC.

So then, what does Dean need in order to be able to show Jack aka himself some real TLC?

Mrs. Butters

Ah, yes, of course what Dean needs most is to engage with his internal femininity. 

Mrs. Butters represents Dean’s suppressed and repressed longing for more in life, for a home, for love, and the only reason there’s been a need to suppress and repress this longing is to due with what he was taught as a child and throughout his formative years, actively by his father, and unconsciously by the way he was never taught or shown how to deal in any type of healthy way with the loss of his mother. 

Mrs. Butters as our representative of positive femininity then shows us as the audience how Dean, in his heart of heart, wants to believe that he can have good things in his life. That he deserves them. 

Mrs. Butters shows us that what Dean needs is to allow himself to feel joy, without expecting it to flip at a moment’s notice into feeling loss. 

And yes, I realise where the episode ends, but perhaps the feeling of joy wouldn’t flip if the lesson was learned in full and Dean knew how to trust and simply let go of the undercurrent of fear that the flip is lurking somewhere just around the next bend. 

What this episode shows us is that he’s just not quite there yet, but omg the threshholding is intense.

Because Mrs. Butters underlines that what Dean needs, more than anything, is to practice trust. Dean needs to practice opening up. Dean needs to practice letting go of his need for control. 

He can still be in charge of a situation, without thinking it’s all on him always.

Now, the episode highlights this in a rather glorious way, by trapping him in a room, under threat, knowing Sam is about to walk into the situation, and deciding not only is he not going to call Sam for help, he’s not even going to text him a heads up.

Look. This might be a plothole here. Jeremy Adams might have been so focused on the joke of Dean not wanting to interrupt Sam’s sexy times that he didn’t realise the implactions of Dean not even sending a text to warn Sam that he was essentially heading home to a dangerous situation, yeah? 

But the rather lax attitude of the brothers this episode: letting Mrs. Butters stay, and both of them neglecting the need for them to look into her backstory further, because they both got so distracted by holiday celebrations and her amazing cooking, combined with the hopscotch way they approach getting rid of her, all this is intentional enough for me to lean into the reading of Dean’s need to practice trust being explored in awesome ways.

Because Dean needs someone to take the load off, and Mrs. Butters does this in spades. 

What with how she brokers zero arguments, immediately getting him to clean up his language, and I mean, Dean then defying this is a moment of awesomeness and of course we all want him to continue being midly CW foulmouthed, but for all intents and purposes, he succumbs to her chastising quickly, and she gets him to open up to the joy of the moment via holiday celebrations, and, to top it all off, she gets him to eat healthier.

The fact that she’s introduced folding his underwear, and then goes on to tell him that she wouldn’t have had to if he’d just done it right to begin with, is fairly epic. (verrryy epic) As is her giving Dean the nightshirt from Scoobynatural. Obviously! He’s wrapped in hugs! Purple hugs! And having Dean dressed in purple and eating vegetables in the same episode is enough to make one’s head explode.

*head* *ex* *ploded*

Balance. Is why my head is exploding. The purple and the vegetables are indications of growing internal balance. *yes please and thank you!*

I loved them celebrating Sam’s birthday and Dean having specific requests for his, Mrs. Butters dismissing him with how she thought he’s too old to want to celebrate. It was such a moment of reminding Dean that he’s not supposed to regress, he’s not to forget that he is, in fact, an adult, and nurturing his inner child is about letting go of the need for the childhood he never had—which is keeping him from properly having the adult life he deep down yearns for. 

(and then this reminder was followed by a moment of kindness) (as there already were rice crispie treats waiting for him) (and his eager little face!) *heart eyes*

There was so much to love about Mrs. Butters, though!

Like the big bowl of crispy bacon on the breakfast table and her encouraging Sam to enjoy the world he’s fighting for, the waxing of Baby (!!), the introduction of the monster radar, finally getting the telescope—pardon me, the interdimensional geoscope—given some attention, Dean blowing a door down by using the grenade launcher (symbolically tied to self-liberation), the fixing of the TV in the Deancave (with thanks to Jeremy! he who breaketh he too shalt fixeth), the fact that Mrs. Butters is a straight-up anti-Nazi killing machine and that her violence stems directly from her need to protect her home and the people she cares about.

Yeah, there’s so much good in her that her not ending up shot, even though she tortured Sam, is not very surprising and I really enjoyed the fact that her story ended on a compassionate note of understanding, and that, if she hadn’t longed to go back to the woods, the boys would have wanted her to stick around. 

Forgiveness—looking for it, or needing it— is a clear thread through this episode.

As For the Deeper Symbolism

Dean starts out cooking, wearing his new favourite garment—an apron. Now, I could tie that to Dean embracing his inner femininity and the rest of the episode working to underline this fact to us, but that’s just my reading of it, so who knows what the deal with the apron actually is. I do love it though, and it’s put in dialogue twice so we were definitely meant to make note of it.

The cooking ties him directly to Mrs. Butters, of course (or her to him, if you will) and creates a bookend for the episode, where Dean starts and ends the episode wearing the apron: first presenting Sam with a burger (meat man!) and then presenting Jack with a birthday cake. 

This bookend is also tied very strongly to Jack. 

Dean asks about him in the opening scene and we learn Jack is holed up in his room, the episode going from having Jack hiding himself away, ashamed and self-hating in his room, to him sitting opposite Sam, expressing concern that they’re putting all their bets on him and he’s not sure he’ll be able to kill God, Sam offering assurance and Dean, through his cake-baking and happy birthday wishes, offering forgiveness and support.

It’s awesome! Beyond awesome! It’s bloody brilliant, is what it is!

Especially when looking at the implications it holds for Dean’s inner work: his inner child starts out locked away, fearful and despairing, being brought out of that room through the kind and supportive side to his internal femininity representative, only for that representative to turn around and step into the shoes of the toxic masculinity traits that have always been the source of Dean’s self-hatred, distrust and lack of faith in himself, and once being granted honesty from the ego (Dean’s consciousness admitting that he’s trying, he’s angry, maybe always will be, but he’s trying) his inner child ends up with the ego showing that inner child how much it matters, that it’s trusted, cared for and loved. 

*brains on ceiling*

Now, as mentioned briefly, the narrative gives us Dean’s inner femininity (Mrs. Butters) influenced by what is a clear toxic masculinity/Shadow character (Sinclair) and shows us why Dean is still wary of his inner child, still not entirely trusting, and it makes all the sense, especially now that the inner child has swallowed up the Shadow and incorporated it into himself. 

Mrs. Butters’ mistrust of Jack becomes emblematic of Dean’s own mistrust in himself, but his inner child knows better and Jack’s continous denial of Mrs. Butters’ accusations underscores this fact. There is self-trust within Dean. Stronger than the lingering mistrust.

All of this inner work for Dean and Sam’s the one who gets tortured?

Well, I can see good reason why Sam is Mrs. Butters’ favourite and it’s to do with how he’s so closely tied to Dean’s purpose in life. Mrs. Butters is a reflection of Dean, and as she moves into Protector of the Bunker she’s also a reflection of any lingering toxic masculinity within Dean, and how it’s always been trying to find a way to sink its claws in Sam, but Sam has never bought into the toxic masculinty spiel, and because of that he’s needed in this instance, to see through the behaviour, to push for compassion, to break through the brainwashing that Mrs. Butters is under, to point out how she was used, taken out of her true nature to do someone else’s bidding.

The most thrilling part is that it’s Dean who delivers the biggest missing piece to Mrs. Butters’ puzzle: the true nature of Jack. 

Because, looked at symbolically, Jack’s ability to save the world represents Dean’s inner child’s ability to save Dean.

Because if any side to Dean were to destroy/thoroughly repress his inner child, he’d be lost. He would never be able to heal. 

The fact that Dean gets to be the one to do this, to talk a representative of his own inner imbalance down, makes me giddy. 

He would not have been able to do this a season ago. He was barely able to do this at the beginning of this season, because he was so full of anger.

That anger, after voicing it to Cas, doesn’t hold the same sway anymore.

He freely admitted to Jack that he’s still angry, and perhaps he always will be a little angry, but he is trying, and this, to me, is enormous. He expressed his emotion and he’s in zero ways allowing that emotion to control his actions anymore.

And, hey, we got Dean, wearing purple, assuring Mrs. Butters that Jack is a good kid.

It’s just… happy happy joy joy!

And a standing ovation to Meagen Fay. She really helped make the episode compelling to watch, balancing Mrs. Butters’ homely and darling characteristics with the darker and MoL compelled Protector of the Bunker that slowly, but surely, reared its not-as-darling head. Kudos!

Right. I could write about this episode some more, because layers, but it’s time to leave off. One thing before I go, though: I loved that we finally had them talk about that big-ass telescope. And I love that it’s not a telescope, because it makes sense. They’re underground—how would they see the stars? I figured there was some sort of skylight somehow that would open or something but meh, dull. This is so much better! And I loved that the green colour of warning was actually to do with the fact that they’re now not being able to see anything through it, rather than the colour having to do exclusively with Mrs. Butters. Utterly brilliant! And… oh dear, what horrors lie ahead??

Now to go watch 15x15. 

I’m not biting my nails. 

At all.

[plumblueflower]

Can I have a story too, bro? Any mythology? 🥺

Yes of course! Let me think of a nice one that you'll enjoy.............*please imagine the music you hear when you're on hold for a company phone number, but in kazoo*................DING!

Today we'll be learning about the 2nd incarnation of Lord Vishnu from my own religion/mythology! Disclaimer to any who practice Hinduism, don't come after me for being irreverent. I believe that these stories were meant to be told with love and affection, not fear.

Onward to a cautionary tale about how being arrogant is one of the worst things you can do when met with a temperamental sage and how tortoises and snakes are apparently valid materials in engineering. Due to divinity of said creatures, it can be safely said that no reptiles were harmed in the making of this production!

Once upon a time, while the King of the Heavens, God of Lightning and Thunder (think Zeus but less swol??), Indra was simply king-ing around, a sage came into his court. Now, these sages were very powerful and well-respected members of society. They'd essentially take to the forest and pray for a very, very long time and gain something akin to XP points in a game, along with rather unsavory looking beards (but don't ever said that to them aloud, you'll see what happens when you offend them!). Generally, a force to be respected and tread carefully around.

The sage that came on that Wednesday afternoon (this is an estimate based on my stellar intuition), was named Durvasa. And he was known to be a very, very, very, very grumpy old coot. Perhaps it was because he meditated with the wrong posture, it can't be explained for sure. Anyways, if you ever come across him, keep your manners poised!

He came with good intent, wanting to bestow a flower garland on Indra as a gesture of blessing and kindness. However, Indra, presumably addled by the royal haze, simply took it and gave it to Airavat, his elephant. Now, being an elephant, Airavat did not necessarily have a great regard for decorum and simply stomped on it after realizing that it wasn't a snack.

Durvasa was livid to say the least, and can you blame him? Imagine you spent all your time writing a love letter for someone and they simply through it to their pet shredder, sounds horrid, doesn't it? (Now you'll have more incentive to reblog this!)

Well in his rage, the old geezer cursed everyone in the heavens, gods and demigods alike, to lose all fortune, happiness, and victory! Soon after, Indra's armies began to lose all of their battles, and generally seemed to be going through a time about as fun as ours. The gods were entirely at their wits' end! How would they finagle their way out of this?

Forgive the quick business analogy, but imagine this power structure a bit like a corporate one. Indra would be the CEO of the company, but there is a founding board of directors that he answers to. The Big Three: Vishnu, Shiva, and Bramha.

Anyways, Indra and the rest of the heavenly squad trekked up to Vishnu's realm and sheepishly asked for an assist. Vishnu told them that all their fortune and the immortal nectar, Amrit (for the graecophiles, Ambrosia) was at the bottom of the ocean (Pacific? Atlantic? I think quite possibly could have been an extremely large puddle). To regain their prosperity and health, they would have to churn it out of the ocean!

At that point, Vishnu, in RPG game fashion, gave them a helpful hint: You need the help of the demons to hold the other side of whatever rope you use to churn, but you cannot let them take the Immortal Juice. This would require some hijinks and shenanigans, but they figured out a plan.

The gods convinced the demons to come and help them churn, promising that they would share the Amrit. They assembled a humongous, gargantuan, massive churning mechanism. Vishnu's "snake familiar", Vasuki, King of the Serpents, was the churning rope and huge mountain was the churning rod. As they pulled the snakey-rope back and forth, demons on one side, gods on the other, the mountain started sinking! Oh no! So, Vishnu took the form of a tortoise and went under the mountain to keep it stabilized! By some engineering miracle, the wealth and fortune came right out from the seabed, along with a few unfortunate fishes. When the Amrit came out, the Demons quickly snatched it for security. But the gods had a plan, because as we know, if there's one thing that dissolves all reason from the brain, it is a very hot woman. (unless you're an aspec or a gay in this case, but at this point, I'm willing to bet that the illusion would simply change to be garlic bread or a hot stud to seduce you anyways)

Now who exactly was this hot woman? Well, her name was Mohini, but she was actually Vishnu in disguise! She seduced the demons into letting her distribute the Amrit to everyone and with her charming maneuvers, she managed to distract the demons so that they wouldn't notice that she was only actually giving nectar to the gods! Victory for our side!

But wait! It turns out the demons had a counterstrike of their own! One demon, Rahuketu, realized the trick and disguised himself to be a god so he would get the nectar. But just as the nectar was about to go down his throat, Vishnu caught him and beheaded him with his ultra-scary, spiky frisbee, the Sudarshan Chakra. Because the demon had already ingested it partially, the two half of his body became sentient beings aptly named Rahu and Ketu. We now see them in the sky as Uranus and Neptune! With that deception foiled, the story ends with the victory of the gods!

Fun fact about Mohini: This female avatar of Vishnu, was very much the temptous femme fatale of the millennia! She killed many demons with her cunning and looks, the illusion being able to tempt anyone! Including....one of the other members of the Triumvirate, Shiva himself! According to the stories of Kerela, India, Shiva saw Mohini, they did "lovers-in-the-nighttime" and had a child, Ayyappa! As a trans, I think this is pretty cool, but thought you all would like to know as well!

[tobswrites]

The Dragons I Know

I'm writing different one shots, alternative universes of the Fantasy Universe| 2nd Popularity Poll.  Allot of these are just ideas that ended up incomplete. This is Part 2

Bakugou enjoyed moments like these, relaxing under the shade of the large tree leaves. Sun peeking through just enough to give his bare torso warmth, his back pressed against a soft cushion on an oversized lizard that’s lazing in the same river as him.

The noises are calming, bugs and birds, the sound of fishes flapping and swimming away from the large beast Kirishima was.

Despite being the color red, the dragon enjoyed most of his days in water. But since Bakugou had forced the dragon to follow him to the ends of the earth, Kirishima rarely gets these chances.

The people they encounter, the monsters they faced are all quick to assume that Kirishima was a flying dragon, wings ripped away from years of fighting, or abuse.

Little they know the red scaled lizard was in fact a water dragon. Ears absent in favor of fines, and the fact the dragon has the capability to retract the ones that slide across in spine, Kirishima was very much a water dragon.

His wings were shaped that way for camouflage purposes, and if Bakugou looked closer at the dragon underneath water, he can very much tell that the dragon

Even his humongous muscled body speaks for how many years the dragon had spent in the water, swimming and pushing against the water.

But just because everyone in this world was stupid to assume Kirishima was anything but, didn’t mean Bakugou was gonna lecture them about what kind of dragon he was.

That would give away too many weaknesses, and he’s not about to throw his best friend into a volcano.

But enough of that, picking himself up from his back, Bakugou looks ahead, ignoring how the dragon is swirling his head was he swims, a little habit of his when he’s too happy.

The greenery surrounding them is luscious and completely beautiful, looking to deep into the forest Bakugou finds it’s hard to see anything but trees and green. Even on a river, they are separated from the earth.

Getting on all fours, knees digging into the rough scales, Bakugou crawls closer to the dragon’s head, completely falling on to his neck with a sigh.

With his legs and arms on one side and the other, Bakugou dips his fingers into the water below him, Kirishima is particular half submerge.

The water is cold, despite the heat raining down on it. The shade and the consent movement are what probably keeps the water feeling as fresh as it was.

“Can you survive in any types of water?” The barbarian traveler muses, not at all expecting an answer from his companion.

But the dragon picks up his head just slight, water in large amounts fall back into its larger body, even a small fish that was nibbling at Kirishima’s jaw falls back into the river.

The dragon twists it’s head just so, looking to Bakugou’s own eyes with it’s own golden.

Yeah, hot, cold, salt or fresh, my body adapts to wherever I am.

There was a point in Bakugou’s life where he felt uncomfortable with just hearing Kirishima’s voice in his mind, or well, it wasn’t even a voice that spoke, Bakugou’s own thoughts had conjured up exactly what Kirishima wanted to say. But now, he welcomes it, it’s warm and nice to have another voice in his head for once.

Especially Kirishima.

Probably only Kirishima.

Bakugou hums, simply acknowledging the dragon, fingers sinking deeper into the water. The river is likely dangerous, with the amount of unknown fish and sea creatures in it. But Kirishima is here, and he can sense anything with ill intent.

So, he feels safe.

Much like bull sharks.

Raising a brow, eyes now closed, he frowns. Without moving anything else, he simply grumps out, “What are bull sharks?” There are still creatures in the world that he hasn’t seen or read about. Creatures that both live in the plains down west, and the creatures living in the deep sea.

He images a bull first, big and dark, horns large and then he imagines a shark combined with it. Maybe it was a bull with a fish tail. Or maybe it was shark that carried horns in the ocean.

Just a normal shark. Kirishima laughs, like he could read Bakugou’s mind. Which he can’t, he’s tried.

“Then why call it a bull shark?”

They like to head butt anything that comes their way.

“Oh.”

[greenygreenland]

If I Were You: Fives x Reader

-for reasons that make it easier for me, this takes place in the US in 2020, so yeah, COVID is a thing -it’s been a while since I’ve written any Star Wars one-shots. I’ve been so busy working on Wannabe lol Summary: You and Fives dream about each other, but you’ve never actually met face to face. You are from a different reality than his where Star Wars is fictional. You believe he’s real, but only can prove it to yourself when he appears in your world. Fives learns about how stressful life off the battlefield can be.

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence, stressing over grades, punishment by parents (more like implied. I won’t write it out, so it’s vaguely stated.)

You sat on a crate, watching the flames lick at the air as Fives smiled to himself. You liked having dreams like this, where you both comfortably sat by the fire, chatting about your contrasting lives. You used to believe Star Wars was a fictional world, until you had dreams about Fives. He was always so real in your mind anyway, and this only made you want to believe in his existence more. 

“I have a big test tomorrow, but I don’t think I’m going to do so well.” you mumbled with a sigh. “It makes me feel bad that I’m struggling with this while you struggle with an actual issue.” Fives shook his head, shrugging a little as if it explained everything. “But I was bred for this, for war I mean. If I weren’t a soldier, I don’t know what I’d be.” He chuckled. “I can’t imagine myself sitting in a classroom all day learning about geometry and algebra. There are some boys who like that stuff in the 212th, but it seems like a waste to me.” 

You nodded in agreement. “Exactly. School is only good for producing data-rich kids who lack experience, especially when they start working and finding jobs.” 

“That’s how I felt when I was first deployed. No matter how much training you get, or how much you learn, experience is the best teacher. And like Rex always says--”

“--experience outranks everything.” you said in unison. Fives smiles, and he looks rather happy that you know that. But of course you do, in your world he’s only a fictional character. A person created by some movie producer or director or something (he didn’t remember). It gave him a mixed a feeling, a doubt of his very existence. Was he purely fictional? A fragment of someone’s own imagination? 

But then you told him something he swore to never forget: Just because it’s happening inside your head doesn’t mean it isn’t real. The world works in mysterious ways. Maybe we were meant to meet.

And so he hung onto that, always looking forward to when he fell asleep and talked to you. You always looked forward to your dreams too, allowing yourself to forget all of your responsibilities and problems. You never had anything to worry about around Fives, and having him by your side made you feel safe.

“I wish we could meet for real.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud and instinctively looked to meet Fives’s gaze. He nodded in agreement, resting his arms on his knees. “Me too, but if we do I’d rather you not see how horrific the Clone Wars has been.” 

“I wish the Clone Wars could have ended differently.” 

Fives looks uncertain of your answer, and he wonders if he should ask what the outcome of the War is. He wants to, but deep inside, he knows he shouldn’t.

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

You awake in your bed, rubbing at your eyes as your alarm goes off. You turn it off, glancing at the time groggily. 6:00. A sigh leaves your lips and you roll out of bed. There’s movement in your sheets. You freeze, taking note of how human-like the form was. “It’s too early for this sleep paralysis demons, stop--” you rip off the sheets as fast as you can, “--oh...” You trail off, eyes wide in bewilderment. There’s a familiar man in your bed, except, he isn’t a man at all. 

He looks to be around your age, and more youthful with the slightest hint of baby fat around his cheeks. He’s cleanly shaven, with a tattoo on his right temple of the aurebesh number 5. You stare at him for a moment, admiring how young, he looks. He's suddenly rolling in your bed, mumbling in his sleep before he jolts up, eyes wide and awake. He’s worried, maybe even a little scared at how unfamiliar the surroundings are. He’s already in ARC trooper mode, scanning his surroundings and reaching for his nonexistent blaster. 

“Where...” You met his gaze, swallowing hard as if it’d help ground you. 

“Fives.” Your voice is almost a whisper. “How did you get here?” You couldn’t believe your eyes. He was alive, in your bed, real. He shakes his head and sits up in your bed, eyeing his ‘civiie’ clothes uncomfortably. “Uh...these aren’t mine.” he dumbly states. You have the urge to snort. “Of course they aren’t yours Fives.” A long sigh escapes your lips and you eye the time on your phone. “I don’t have time to figure out how you got here. I have school and need to go in fifteen minutes.” 

“Out of all the days I somehow show up, it’s on a school day?” Fives remarks. You pick through your closet, frantically pulling out a pair of clothes and shutting yourself in so Fives doesn’t see. “I have a big test, it’s first block and I’ve gotta walk to school.” You pull on your shirt and trousers, emerging from the closet with a frown. “I can’t be late, but I can’t just leave you here.”

“Should I, I don’t know, go with you?” 

“You’re not enrolled in school,” you reach for a brush and Fives can only stare in awe as you run it through your locks. “I’m not sure what to--” You pause, placing your brush down with a sigh. “Oh right.” 

“What do you mean, ‘oh right?” 

“Global pandemic. I have online school. On the bright side, my parents are away. They’ve been quarantined in another state for work reasons.” Fives suddenly feels very dumb. He recalled you talking about ‘COVID-19 ‘ and how it’s a bit like the Blue Shadow Virus. “School doesn’t start until another two hours, so why is my alarm on for six o’clock?” You power on your phone, switching through the alarms and disabling the ones you don’t need with a shake of your head. Fives is mesmerized. He likes how thin the device is, and how it fits in your sweater pocket like a piece of flimsi. 

You crawl around him, cuddling into your bed as he simply watches. “You’re going back to sleep?” You nod, placing your phone on its charger and closing your eyes. “We’ll figure out how you got here soon enough, and it’s not like there’s anything better to do.” Fives stares at your bed uncertainly. Was it really okay? You were a girl, after all, and this was your room. You beckon him over, and that’s when he decides to lie down. 

Sleeping in a bed couldn’t hurt anyway. And besides, he’s known you for a long time (how long, he’s unsure). He can’t help but note how humongous your bed is compared to the ones in the barracks on the Resolute. It’s so soft, and he feels like he’s laying down on clouds. 

“I’m jealous. Your bed’s really big and comfy. The boys would kill to sleep on something like this.” You smile, throwing your thick blankets on top of Fives. He’s about to say something, but you’re already asleep. It appals him how fast you’d done so, and again, he’s just the tiniest bit jealous. But that soon goes away as he relaxes into the soft blankets, savouring the warmth and comfort they provided. 

He doesn’t dream, and neither do you. 

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring, and it takes you every single bit of strength left in your body to slide it off. “Urgh.” You flop down and Fives lazily turns to face you. He opens his eyes, blinking the sleep away with a yawn. “Your bed is amazing.” You grin, climbing out of bed as Fives cuddles into your sheets. “I know, right?”

You open your laptop and log into Google classroom. Zoom awaits you, and it’s the first thing you open along with your quiz work. You sigh, begrudgingly turning on your camera as it starts.

“Good morning everyone.” your teacher says with a smile. “How is everyone doing today?” It’s awkwardly silent for a few moments before someone quietly says ‘good’. You wait for someone else to respond, but it’s silent again. Fives glances over at your computer. He silently crawls out of bed, carefully folding your blankets and ducking out of the camera’s view. 

“I guess everyone’s still asleep.” your teacher says with a chuckle. “The Zoom is open if you have any questions on the quiz. I’m not going to keep you here, so if you’d like, you can leave and get to work. You have until the end of the period.” You nod and exit out of the Zoom. Opening up the quiz, you scan over its contents. Your face begins to twist as you read through the problems, your stomach churning with unbelievable doubt. 

You were going to fail even though you spent all night studying.

“What even is this?” You scroll through the doc with a scowl, eyeing the equations and problems as if it were the scum of the Earth (which it was). “I’m going to fail. Wonderful.” Despite that, you get to work anyway, scribbling random numbers on a scrap piece of paper. Fives takes a seat on the chair next to you, curiously watching you work through the problems. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to do that.” 

“I don’t, but I’m trying to see if I can find the answers on the multiple choice questions through trial and error. If I get it wrong, then consider this test flunked.” Fives takes one glance at the paper you’re writing on and immediately regrets it. The equations look like a foreign language to him, with numbers and letters he wasn’t even sure could be possible. “That’s definitely not something they teach us on Kamino.” he says. “And stars am I glad for that.” 

You frown, scribbling out an equation with a groan. “I hate this!” Fives wishes he could help, but he doesn’t know how. Math isn’t something he’s done besides the basics of addition and subtraction. He knew decimals too, and a little bit about fractions, but that was all. It wasn’t enough to help you figure out how to use the equation  x = x0 + v0t.

“I feel really bad for you.” he muttered. You snorted. “I feel bad for me too.”

Fifteen minutes pass. Then twenty. Thirty. Forty. Forty-five....

“Done.” You typed in the last number and submitted the doc, running a hand through your hair as you did so. “I hate this class, but it’s required. Who even needs to know all this stuff anyway?” Fives doesn’t know how to respond, so he watches as you stress over your test. He had his own experiences of tests, but they were for ARC training, or drills he had to remember to keep himself alive on the battlefield. 

Like you said, this stuff was useless if you didn’t need it. 

The next three class flew by incredibly slowly. Fives didn’t have anything to do, so he watched you go about your day like it were a documentary. In a way, he found it interesting how simple yet complex your life was. You had six hours of school (which used to be seven before the pandemic), one lunch break around noon, and the rest of the day to finish assignments or relax. 

He envied how leisurely it was compared to his own life. You had free time to roam around the house or the neighbourhood once you were done, and a whole fridge full of flavourful foods he’s never even had once. Although your life was still stressful, it was lived in the bliss of never knowing the horrors of war.

“Okay, it’s lunch time.” you broke in with a relieved sigh. “Let’s go downstairs.” You opened the door. In Fives’s eyes, your house was a complete dream. “Wow. You have a nice house.” You smiled, leading him down the stairs. “It’s better than a barracks, that’s what. In most peoples’ eyes, my house is normal. It’s not too shabby, but not something you’d find in the town over.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Rich town. They’re known for the private schools--which are schools that cost money to be enrolled in. I go to a public school, but there’s really not much difference in the curriculums so it doesn’t matter to me. Save money, live better, Walmart.” Fives didn’t ask what a ‘Walmart’ is. As soon as you paused in front of the kitchen, he knew his jaw had hit the floor. 

There was a smug look in your eyes as you pulled a box of cereal out of the cabinet. “How about we eat a little bit of everything?” You tossed him the cereal box and he read the title. “That way you can experience it all.” Fives stared at the cereal box with furrowed brows. “’Kix’?” 

“I know right? Same name as your Kix.” 

Fives wasn’t a big fan of the cereal, but the candy you gave him? Force was that amazing. 

You both sat at the kitchen table, candy and chocolate wrappers everywhere. You’d clean up later, what mattered now was spending time with Fives before you figured out a way to get him home. “Isn’t it, I don’t know, lonely here?” he inquired. You fiddled with a candy wrapper, mindlessly scanning over it s ingredients. “I’m not sure. My parents are always away so I don’t see them much. I don’t have many friends and I don’t text them. I don’t really think I can say I’m lonely because I don’t know how it would feel to be lonely when I’m used to it.” 

Fives mulled over your lengthy answer thoughtfully. He thought about all his brothers, both the alive and fallen. He couldn’t imagine ever being separated from them, especially since he was around them 24/7. “Well for me,” he began, “I think I’d be lonely in such a big house. You know that I grew up around brothers, guess it’s all I’ve ever known. I’m never alone. I have my brothers.” 

You felt an equal sense of connection between yourself and Fives. Both of you did come from different worlds, but you understood not understanding something because that was what you were used to. You couldn’t imagine ever having people around while Fives couldn’t imagine being on his own. Slowly, you gathered the candy wrappers, depositing them in the rubbish bin before glancing at the clock. “I have two more classes.” Your voice was quiet. “You can hang around here if you want, I’ll be upstairs.” 

Fives winced to himself when you disappeared. He had hit a sore spot. 

Three days later, 14:20, Friday

“Done, done, and done. Happy Friday to you and happy Friday to me.” you mumbled to yourself with a sigh. You thanked whatever was out there for no homework and shrank into your chair. There was a ‘ping!’ from your phone and you checked your email. 

First Period Quiz: Marked

You frowned, tapping on the email anyway. Suddenly, you froze, eyes wide over the score displayed on the screen. 

25/100%

You failed. Well, of course you failed! You didn’t know a single thing on the stupid quiz anyway. A long sigh escaped your lips and you tossed your phone on your bed. You rested your head in your hands, heaving out deep breaths to steady out the shock. There were footsteps outside your door, and you didn’t need to see a face to know who it was. 

“What happened?” 

“That test this morning? Yeah, I failed. I studied all night, but it was useless anyway.” Fives didn’t miss the tremble in your voice. After being around so many brothers with trauma, he could identify that tone of voice in a heartbeat. Over these past three days, he learned a lot about you, and he knew you’d done the same. He found out that school was more important than anything to you. He surmised it was because of the pressure your parents put on your shoulders rather than something you chose to dedicate your heart to. He also found out your favourite colour was (f/c) and that you liked to (activity) and (activity).

On the contrary, you only learned about Fives’s habits and a few new things he liked to do or eat. He knew it was because he was, well, a fictional character in your world, but that was something he refused to dwell on (it’d give him an existential crisis). 

He took a seat by your side, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. You sniffled, and it was then that Fives knew he had to do something--fast. 

Tests weren’t something he personally cried about, but he had seen a few shinies do it in the past. “Hey, hey...” His voice was soft, gentle, like a warm breeze. “It’s okay. Can’t you, I don’t know, do a make-up test?” You shook your head sullenly. “No. My teacher doesn’t allow it.” 

“Oh.” He paused, rubbing circles on your back. “Well it’s not the end of the world, right? There will probably be more opportunities that can raise your grade.” 

“But I already have a ninety in that class!” You held back a few tears and raised your head. You couldn’t let Fives see you cry over something so pathetic. “I’m going to have an eighty-nine, and I can’t afford to do that! My mum wants me to go to Harvard, my dad wants me to go to MIT... Those are all IV League schools, the top of the top, and I can’t get there if I can’t keep my grades up. I--I just--I wish--” 

There’s another wave of tears that build up in your eyes and you bury your head in your arms. You heave out a shaky sigh as Fives scoots closer to you in support. You appreciate his presence, but you’re not sure he can really do anything to help you. He’s a soldier after all, not a professor from a university. He’s build differently, made differently, trained differently while you’re you. A teenager. A nobody who tries her best but can’t succeed. 

“My parents are going to be so mad at me. They’re going to...they’ll...” You know they won’t be home for at least another month, but that realisation is enough for the tears to burst and for you to start loudly sobbing. That test was the last to be submitted for the term, so even if you did try to persuade your teacher to allow you to do test-corrections, she would say no. You were going to have to accept a big, fat B on your report card. 

Fives doesn’t know what to say, but he knows that if Echo were here, he’d know exactly what to do. But Fives wasn’t Echo. He wasn’t good with words of comfort or really anything off the battlefield. He didn’t know this type of pain like you did. And so he asks the only thing he really can: “Is there anything I can do to help you?” 

You just want a shoulder to lean on, someone to physically be there for you after having no one for so many years. So Fives holds you, and you’ve never felt safer in his arms. He rocks you back and forth, hums a little song you know to be in Mando’a. What really matters is that he’s there, and that he has your back. No matter how different you both were, it was clear that pain could take shape in various forms. Some on larger scales than others. 

Fives knew that if he was you, he’d feel the same pain too. 

PT 2

[sonjaohno]

En route (BER-FRA-JFK)

Welcome, dear friends and family, to this humble travelogue. I am so glad you are here. Here are a few selected moments—a best of, if you will—of my trip so far.

Monday 30 August: I packed like the anxious bookworm that I am. Some of these beauties eventually came out of the bag, others stayed in. My own analogue scale has a pretty hefty margin of error (several kilos, in fact) but in the end, I had guesstimated the weight TO THE GRAM: 20,00 kg, ladies and gentlemen, what an achievement. This trip is off to a promising start. (Or so I thought.)

Tuesday 31 August: After I had finished packing and was dissolving into an emotional wreck, I hung out with two of my best mates. Aren't they gorgeous? Wearing pink, we have the artist formerly known as W.D.L.B. ("Will"), who now goes by either I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE, or, simply, the Neonliberal, depending on the day. In her customary white and black, we have Miss Bucket (pronounced bouquet, naturally), aka Dinner Pig, aka the Baby. I'll miss you both.

Wednesday 1 September: I thought that I had planned the whole thing really well. I'd arrive in the airport late Tuesday evening, swing through empty bag drop and security control, get a proper night's sleep at the gate, and board the plane well rested and full of youthful vigour. Not so. Contrary to information given on the website, all of the operations at the brand new BER airport close around 8 p.m.. There are exactly five couches in the main lobby, all of them at the second floor Starbucks (which also closes around 8 p.m.).

Here's a billion dollar tip to weary travellers who find themselves, at three in the morning, caught in a bit of a rumpus with the airport security guards (totally out of character, I know), whose sacred duty it is to keep the benches outside the airport chapel empty of marooned travellers at any cost: Seek shelter in the chapel itself. The Securitas goons dare not enter the chapel, but this a mere bonus compared to what awaits inside. I don't know why I hadn't realised this before (possibly because I am only recently not-vehemently-atheist and also fly so infrequently that I have no earthly reason to know such things), but the chapel is actually the one pleasant room in the whole airport. Unlike the rest of every airport everywhere, the chapel doesn't try to sell you shit, nor does it blast you with fluorescent lighting, or incessant reminders about wearing a medical-grade face mask at all times. The chapel is a perfectly quiet, dimly lit, and, most importantly, completely abandoned oasis of solitude in an otherwise uninhabitable environment. A couple of hours of meditative staring at a wall later, I'm ready to embark on the next leg of my journey.

Wednesday 1 September (still): I have now been awake for 24 hours straight, which may explain the somewhat restless tone of my post so far, and am currently residing in the humongous Terminal 1 of Frankfurt Airport. It has little booths selling sausages and beer along each of its endless corridors. It might even have a chapel, but I am too scared of falling asleep and missing my next flight to seek out its comforting brick buxom. So I sat down by my gate to pass an hour by writing down this little update. Below, a portrait of the weary traveller herself, caught mid-transit, at an airport loo. Glamorous business this air travel, isn't it?

Next up: NYC. Stay tuned for more updates. (I'll try to keep them shorter. I just had so much to tell you!)