#unrelated but it is really weird when people say The Bells to me? it's like saying The Mighty instead of The Nein. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tobesolonely · 4 years

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aura

A/n: Hi everyone! this is a tad bit different from the things i usually write (I think) as i wanted to switch things up a little bit. I’m kinda nervous to post it so pleaseee please let me know your thoughts! As always please enjoy!! thank you to everyone who beta read for me btw :)

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is blue

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N has always been able to easily empathize with others. She could see others' emotional energy— their aura— and this made it easy to know exactly what they were feeling. Not only could she see auras, but she could take away anyone’s emotional turmoil just by touching them.

One of Y/N’s most vivid memories from her childhood was when her best friend came to school one morning in tears over the death of her pet fish. When Y/N leaned in to give her a hug, she felt an overwhelming heaviness overtake her body as soon as they made contact. Upon pulling away from the hug, her friend’s demeanor was completely changed. Instead of being sad over the death of her fish, she was able to instead reflect on all the good times she had with him. Her friend was fine for the rest of the day, but Y/N was left grieving over a fish she never even owned.

Y/N went home that day, confused. How was it that her friend was so easily cheered up just from a hug? Was that all it took for Y/N to make others feel better? If that was the case, she decided she wanted to be a ‘Professional Hugger’ when she grew up. As time went on, Y/N learned that she didn’t even have to hug others to rid them of their mental pain. The slightest touch from her instantly made anyone she came into contact with feel better.

It took a few months for Y/N to realize it was her touch that healed others. Sure, that mental anguish then became hers to carry, but how many people could say they could heal someone just by touching them? If that was the price she had to pay, then so be it. From that point on Y/N made it a point to help anyone she could.

As Y/N got older and her skill with this power grew, she learned to redirect the painful energy elsewhere so she didn’t always have to sit with it. It worked some of the time, but it was something she was still learning to master. Y/N wasn’t always successful in doing this, though. While whoever Y/N touched went about their day feeling great, she would experience their emotions so intensely that she felt as if she were coming down with a cold. Y/N dealt with it in silence because the way she saw it if she was blessed with this gift, she had to be selfless and put it to good use. Y/N was a firm believer that all the good she put out would come back to her in another life at least ten times over.

It was difficult for Y/N not to touch everyone she saw whose aura reflected sadness, anxiety, or worry. She tried to stick to only doing this to people she knew, but there were some instances where Y/N encountered someone who was just so clearly unhappy that she could not help herself.

For example, right now.

Y/N immediately sensed this stranger’s emotional turmoil as soon as they entered the space. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Y/N had the longest, most physically demanding day at work and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and cook. Even though she had just gone grocery shopping two days prior, she stopped by her favorite Thai place on the way home. Y/N was in the middle of ordering when their presence quite literally took her breath away, causing her to stumble over her words.

She turned to look over her shoulder at the person who was so greatly distracting her and locked eyes with the most pitiful looking stranger she’d seen all day. The first thing Y/N noticed about him was his hair. It was unruly, like he had just gotten out of bed. She also noticed how tall he was–– if he had just a couple more inches on him, he would’ve had to crane his neck to enter the establishment. Upon making eye contact with Y/N the man quickly looked down at his shoes, twiddling his thumbs. His aura was a mixture of indigo and dark red when Y/N looked at him. Anger and sensitivity.

“Do you still need a moment?”

The voice of the cashier breaks Y/N out of her analytical thoughts of the stranger standing a few feet behind her. She nods, re-situating her purse on her left shoulder.

“Uh, please. He can go ahead if he’s ready.” Y/N gestures behind her and the cashier nods, asking the man behind her if he was ready to order yet. He steps up to the front counter, eyes trained on his feet as if he couldn’t walk without watching every step he took.

His energy was intense and Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could ignore it. Something about him was reeling her in— his aura wasn’t looking too bright at the moment, but she could just tell it usually was. She felt compelled to take away his pain, and she hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. While he was placing his order, Y/N internally debated on whether or not she should “accidentally” graze his arm when they walked past each other. Would that be weird? What if she wasn’t able to redirect his negative energy elsewhere? While she did love to help whenever she could, some people’s emotional baggage was just a little too heavy. She didn’t know him. For all she knew, he could be a killer!

He turns back around once he’s finished ordering and stands by the entrance, out of Y/N’s way. The pair lock eyes again as Y/N makes her way back to the counter to order. Once again, he quickly looked away from her. Y/N’s trying to ignore the annoying nagging feeling she gets when she wants to help someone, but it’s unrelenting. She makes up her mind that once she’s done, she will approach this stranger to get a better read on his emotions.

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” She cringes at her choice of a conversation starter and hopes he doesn’t notice. Y/N folds her hands across her chest, forcing herself not to reach out to him. He nods.

“Lovely.”

The tone of his voice causes Y/N to wince. It was sharp and short. He was clearly not in the mood to converse. Although Y/N knows this, she continues on.

“I love this place. I think I come here at least twice a month–– what’s your go-to order?”

The man turns to fully face Y/N this time, his aura now more red than blue. He was beginning to grow annoyed with her small talk.

“Green curry and stir-fried vegetables.” He doesn’t ask Y/N for her order, so she takes this as her signal to stop speaking to him. The bell above the door jingles, signaling another persons’ entry. Their aura is shining gold–– Y/N would not have to interfere.

Y/N moves away from this man, deciding not to speak to him anymore. She was getting better at accepting the fact that no matter how much she wanted to, it was impossible to help everyone. As he collected his food from the front and turned to leave, not sparing Y/N another glance, she silently hoped that whatever was wrong with this man would not last.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was in a funk. There was no denying it, and he was over feeling so terribly. He hadn’t been feeling like himself for far too long. It seemed like everyone wanted something from him when he had nothing left to give. Jeff had set unrealistic deadlines, his mother was upset with him for not calling enough, and he was exhausted from constantly traveling and waking up in a new time zone. Harry needed a break.

Harry’s mind wandered to the pretty girl in the Thai place. She seemed inquisitive. She was very curious about his go-to order, and she was standing a little too close for his comfort. Harry was surprised when she didn’t ask him for a picture. He wasn’t trying to be cocky, but nearly everyone he met asked him for a picture–– he was Harry Styles. However, it was almost like this girl didn’t know who he was. She didn’t seem starstruck in the slightest.

While Harry was waiting for the light to change, it dawned on him that he may have been a tad bit rude to her. He noticed her happy expression drop when he shut her down, but he didn’t feel like talking. He liked to move from place to place as quickly as he could in the off chance he got recognized and it started circulating on Twitter. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad. She was sweet like honey–– or so it seemed. In their brief interaction, she bought him comfort.

Harry wanted to turn back around and go back to the restaurant to check if she was still there. What would be the point, though? She would most likely be long gone by the time he made it back over there, as she did order immediately after him. Harry’s torn out of his thoughts when the cars behind him start honking, and he realizes the light must’ve turned green. He decides not to think about the confrontation anymore.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The world works in mysterious ways.

Y/N was sure she’d never encounter the grumpy man from her favorite Thai restaurant again but yet here she was in another situation that involved take-out and him. His aura was dark indigo this time. Stress? Isolation? Y/N didn’t know, but she wanted to help him. In her eyes, there was no reason for anyone to be down this badly. She just wanted everyone to be as happy as she (almost) always was! She takes a deep breath before approaching him.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry was absorbed in a text conversation involving his manager and stylist when a sweet, familiar voice interrupts him.

“I’m okay, thank you. Yourself? Also, we’ve spoken before, I believe.”

She nods, a troubled look on her face. “We have. At the Thai place. How are you, though? Really.”

Harry was beginning to find her a bit strange (but still incredibly gorgeous, even more than he did before now that he got a good look at her face). Why was she so concerned with how he was feeling? Was she going to ask him for a picture or not? As Harry opened his mouth to again tell her he was fine, the desire to tell her how he was really feeling came over him. So he did.

“Honestly? ‘M exhausted. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and my manager wants a lot from me. I think I jus’ need a break.”

He radiated red. Anxiety? Anger?

“What do you do for work?” Now it was Harry’s turn to wear the troubled look.

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but you’re serious?”

Y/N nods, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder. Just as quickly as she touches him she removes her hand, and she’s almost certain he didn’t even feel her touch. She notices him let out a visible sigh of relief, his aura changing from a red to a pale yellow. Optimism. Positivity. This causes her to let out her own sigh of relief.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great.” Y/N was not able to redirect his negative energy as the restaurant was too crowded and she didn’t want to risk putting it on anyone else, and she was feeling him. He was stressed, overworked, and anxious. Y/N just wanted to go home and nap, no longer in the mood for the food she just ordered.

Harry decided she was definitely odd but in the most endearing way possible. “How do you know I’m feeling better? Wait, am I feeling better?” Y/N watches as he works through his emotions, his aura ranging in color before settling back on pale yellow.

“Are you?” Y/N knows the answer to this of course, but she wants to hear him say it.

“I think I am. I’ve been feelin’ horrible all week but saying how I felt out loud to you automatically made me feel better. Kind of weird, but I won’t question it. Thank you for asking…,” Harry scrunches his nose, a distasteful expression on his face. “I don’t think ‘ve gotten your name yet.”

Y/N gives him a small, forced smile. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around, I think.” Before Harry can tell her his name she’s gone.

And she didn’t even grab her food.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks. How one person could carry around all this emotional baggage was beyond her, but she wanted it gone. Immediately.

There was a spell Y/N kept on hand for times like these. Times when she couldn’t redirect the negative energy before it got to her. Times when it was just too much to carry. Y/N had regretfully done this spell more times than she could count and was an expert at reciting it from memory. The vile was open and ready to capture the negative energy that would shortly be leaving her.

Y/N works quickly to complete the process, unsure of what time her roommate would come barreling through the door. She had caught her doing things she deemed strange one too many times (she thought her roommate almost figured out who she really was when she caught her having a full-on conversation with her cat, Sapphire, once). She was beginning to run out of excuses for her “unusual” behavior. Y/N mutters under her breath, willing the energy to exit her.

She notices right away when it leaves her. She feels lighter— like her usual self again. She guides the energy into the vile and immediately seals it, hurrying into her room to lock it away. Y/N kept a box in her closet that she only opened if she had to. It was her Pandora’s Box, in a way. Nothing bad would be released into the world if she opened the box, but if the viles’ were opened then the bad energy she trapped would be re-released into the world, finding its way back to their original owners.

Y/N feels like she can breathe again once she bolts the box. She hoped that whatever he was doing, wherever this man was, he was still feeling okay.

Also, for his sake and everyone’s around him, she hoped he got a break.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was on Harry’s mind.

Something about her was magnetic. He wished he’d gotten more information about her than only her name, but she left him in such a hurry he could hardly process their conversation. Harry felt like a madman! He searched ‘Y/F/N Y/L/N’ on all social media platforms, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. It was dumb luck that he had ran into her twice in such a short time span, and he hoped good things happened in threes and he would see her again.

He was almost certain that Jeff thought he was losing his mind.

Harry tried explaining his interaction with Y/N first at the Thai food spot and again when he was getting Greek food, but Jeff thought Harry was so sleep deprived he was imagining things.

“How did you see a beautiful, young woman who didn’t freak out or ask for a picture? Doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Styles.”

“That’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed wildly. He holds his phone up. “I’m thinkin’ she really doesn’t know who I am, though. I couldn’t find her on any social media platform. It’s like she’s off the grid or somethin’.”

“No social media at all? A little weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s fitting for her. If you met her then you would understand what I meant,” Harry felt the need to defend this alluring stranger who took away his pain just by listening to him speak. “Look at me, Jeff. Don’t I seem so much better than I was jus’ a few days ago?”

His manager couldn’t deny that Harry’s mood (and attitude) had done a 360. He didn’t complain about being woken up early and he happily consented to do not one, but two interviews.

“I mean, yeah? I guess––”

“Thanks to her!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m telling you. I need to see her again and thank her for whatever she did.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Harry leaned back against the counter in Jeff’s kitchen, mulling the question over. It was a valid one. How was he going to do that? He already tried to no avail to find her on social media. He hardly knew anything about her. All he knew was her name, that they seemed to have a similar taste in food, and that she went to the Thai spot at least two times a month.

That was it.

In one last effort to contact Y/N again, Harry planned to go to the Thai food place, pray the cashier who was working when he went in earlier this week was there, and leave his number with her. It was a risky move, probably not the smartest thing he could do, and Jeff would for sure drop him as a client if he knew Harry was doing things like this. Harry didn’t care. Phone numbers could always be changed, and he was desperate.

If Harry couldn’t contact Y/N, he would wait for her to contact him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was confused.

She stopped at her favorite Thai food spot (sooner in the month than anticipated, but she had another long day), ordered her usual, and was about to leave when the sweet cashier who was always there insisted she takes the piece of paper with ‘HARRY’ followed by a phone number scrawled on it.

“For me?” Y/N was confused. Something like this had never happened to her before. I mean, does it happen to anyone?

“He insisted,” the cashier warmly responds. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back–– knew you would soon enough.” Y/N’s face flushes at this and she makes a mental note to start cooking more.

“Well…,” Y/N trails off, not sure what to say. “Thank you? I guess I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ve done well.” The cashier’s aura shines pink. Affection. Love.

“You should. Take care!”

Y/N leaves the restaurant with the crumpled piece of paper in her sweaty hands, eager to get home as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her not to disregard him. His reaching out was a sign–– and Y/N did not ignore signs.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“She hasn’t called me yet.”

“It’s been five days, Harry. She probably doesn’t eat Thai food every day. I can’t believe you did something so fuckin’ stupid…”

Jeff’s reprimanding fades into the background as Harry drifts off into daydreaming about what it would be like if– when- Y/N finally called him. Would she find him obsessed? What if she thought he was stalking her? Harry decided that when she called, he would immediately clear things up. He’d thank her for her kindness (his trademark) and see how she was doing. She left the Greek food place so abruptly when he last saw her that he was under the impression something was bothering her. Harry wasn’t sure what he could do to help if something was troubling her, but he could at least extend a listening ear to her as she did to him.

“Harry, are you listening?”

“What was that?”

Jeff shakes his head at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “Man, I hope she calls you soon.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The phone rang three times. After the third ring, his gruff voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N sharply inhales, suddenly growing nervous. “Is this Harry?” Silence. Y/N was preparing to repeat herself when he spoke again.

“Is this Y/N?”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be silent. Harry says nothing, awaiting her response. “Well, it is. You sound familiar–– how do we know each other?”

“Now that ’m actually able to talk to you, it sounds a bit silly…” He seems unsure of himself. “Promise y’won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Y/N says it with such conviction that Harry believes her, and it gives him the confidence he needs to proceed. “I was havin’ a hard time a couple of weeks ago. I was in line to get some falafel and you asked me what was wrong. What was really wrong.” Y/N says nothing, so Harry continues.

“I told you I was exhausted from work ‘nd wanted a break. That’s it, y’know? But I immediately felt better afterward. I’ve actually been feelin’ great ever since. I jus’ wanted to thank you, is all. I know it sounds weird and it’s probably all in m’head but I feel like talkin’ with you was just what I needed.” Harry’s rambling, nerves finally catching up to him. She was gorgeous and he was afraid she would think he was insane.

“I’m glad to hear you’re still feeling better, Harry. That’s great.” Y/N’s voice is gentle and soft and to Harry, hearing her speak was just as comforting as getting a hug from his mum.

“I’m also really sorry that I was such a dick when you tried talkin’ to me the first time at the Thai spot,'' Harry feels embarrassed, stumbling over his words. “Not sure if you remember but I was just havin’ a shit day. I thought you were gonna ask for a picture and I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and Harry winces, certain he’s offended her when she starts talking again.

“That’s okay. I know you were having a bad day.”

“How did you know I was having a bad day?” Again, Y/N pauses before answering.

“Well, I didn’t do anything to you for you to be so rude to me. I knew it had to be a problem involving yourself.” Harry notices that Y/N speaks very slowly. It’s as if she considers every word before she speaks. He’s intrigued by her.

“That is very true.” Y/N doesn’t say anything so Harry takes it as his cue to keep talking. “I’m sorry if me leaving my number at the restaurant creeped you out. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to call me.”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been wondering how you were doing since we had our encounter at the Greek place–– that doesn’t creep you out either, right?”

Y/N was hypnotizing. Harry was infatuated.

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Course.”

“Why would I want a picture with you?”

Harry had to get to know her.

“Do y’wanna grab coffee sometime?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Something was definitely different about Y/N–– Harry just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. To begin, she truly had absolutely no idea who Harry was. At first, he thought she was just messing with him, but he quickly realized she was being serious. Y/N said she had “heard of” One Direction, but she never listened to the band’s music. Harry supposed that could account for her being unaware as to who he was. Maybe he wasn’t a “household name” like Jeff always said he was.

Harry was also right about her not having social media. When he asked Y/N why she didn’t use it, she said she preferred to occupy her time with more substantial things. She didn’t elaborate, and Harry didn’t ask. She was however very interested to learn what a big social media following Harry had. He tweeted the word “Do” and they watched as the internet went wild trying to decipher what he meant. He even started trending worldwide for it. It made sense to Y/N after that why Harry was so intent on not taking off his sunglasses and beanie.

Y/N was having a great time analyzing his aura.

She noticed that whenever someone glanced in their direction, his aura briefly turned red. Anxiety. When Y/N attempted to make a joke, it turned pink (she chose not to analyze that too much). Mainly though, his aura shone that beautiful, pale yellow that Y/N loved to see the most. Harry was doing well. He was happy. Y/N would not have to intervene today.

She couldn’t explain why, but she felt obligated to help him. Even though his energy made her feel so terribly last time, she would’ve still taken away his pain if he was blue without even thinking twice about it. Why was she so drawn to him? Y/N wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that drew her in, but she knew she would do anything to help him. Anything to see him happy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry felt the same way.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N missed Harry terribly.

She wanted to call him–– just a brief conversation to see if he was doing okay. He mentioned when they last saw each other nearly two weeks prior that he was going to be very busy in the coming days, and she wondered if he still was. Harry told Y/N that he loved his job (of course he did!), but being so busy sometimes really hurt him. Not just mentally, but physically as well.

She longed for him.

Y/N searched through her call list for Harry’s number and immediately tapped it, listening closely as it rang. She was about to end the call in defeat when Harry answered at the last moment.

“Hello?” He sounded tired, under the weather.

“Harry,” Y/N begins. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I just wanted to see if all was well. How do you feel?”

“Hi Y/N,” Harry perks up slightly, but he still sounds a bit congested. “‘M not sure if you can tell from m’voice, but I’ve got a cold.”

Although Y/N wishes with every fiber of her being that she could rid Harry of his cold, she cannot. However, she can make sure all is well with his mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she pauses for a moment as she usually does, hoping Harry can tell how sincere she’s being on the other end. “How do you feel though? Are you still feeling happy?”

“Jus’ feelin’ not the greatest again. I’ve been stuck in my house with this fuckin’ cold and haven’t seen anyone in days.”

“I can come over.” Y/N doesn’t think twice before offering. If he had to suffer physically, she at least wanted him to feel okay mentally.

“I don’t want to get you sick. It’s okay–”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ll keep you company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/N’s sure she must’ve creeped him out. They don’t even know each other well and here she was offering to come over to his home and keep him company while he was sick. She’s about to rescind her offer when he lets out a loud sigh.

“My manager might kill me if he finds out I did this… but sure, let me give you my address.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As soon as Harry got off the phone, he sprung into action. His home was a mess. There were crumpled up tissues all over the floor beside his bed, a sink full of dishes, and he’s pretty sure every bathroom in his house was a mess. He opted to not have anyone over to clean up after him as he didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick and man did it show.

He quickly gathered up all the tissues and threw them into the bin in the corner of his bedroom, surveying the rest of the mess before deciding he and Y/N wouldn’t be spending time in there, anyway. He was going to focus on the mess downstairs, instead. He loaded his dishwasher and record time and used disinfectant wipes on every surface he could in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. He then surveyed the bathrooms and cleaned the one with the least amount of mess, closing the doors to the other ones. He would worry about those some other time.

Harry was nervous to have Y/N over. He was just nervous to be around her in general. He missed her over the past couple of weeks but he opted out of contacting her, terrified that he was a bother. After Harry finished cleaning in record time, it dawned on him that he didn’t really have any food prepared to offer Y/N. If she was coming over to his house just to cheer him up, the least he could do was offer her something to eat. Harry hated doing things like this, but he was desperate. He texted his assistant and asked if they could drop off some food from the Greek place he and Y/N liked, making a mental note to find out what other places she enjoyed eating at for next time.

Y/N gets to his house much sooner than he was anticipating.

He rushes to his front door, looking through the peephole before opening the door. Y/N has a big smile on her face and looks absolutely gorgeous, as she usually does. She has a huge water bottle in one hand and a tote bag with the phases of the moon slung over her shoulder. He’s never seen it before and thinks it’s lovely.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “Thanks for coming. Uh, come in please.”

Y/N smiles and takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold of Harry’s home. She thought it was incredible–– and rather clean. “What can I do to help?”

Harry was getting used to Y/N’s straightforward approach to things, so he’s not phased by her question. “Jus’ you bein’ here is great, honestly.”

Y/N can see that Harry’s aura is that deep indigo that she’s not fond of, but she wonders if he can work through it himself before she steps in. “So it’s just your cold that’s got you feeling down? Can we sit down and talk about it?”

“Sure. Also, not sure if you’ve eaten yet or not but I’m gettin’ some food dropped off for us.”

“That sounds great, I haven’t had dinner yet so thank you. Can we sit?” Y/N doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. She makes her way to his plush couch in the adjoining room, walking through the place like she’s been there before. Harry loves it.

“I think I told you the gist of it on the phone earlier,” Harry says, settling onto the couch beside her. He leaves some space in between them since he doesn’t want to risk getting her sick, but he wishes he was closer to her. “I’ve been feelin’ down ‘cause I’ve been stuck in the house with this cold. S’not fun.” Y/N hums in understanding. Harry notices that she reaches out her hand to him slightly and then quickly retracts it, but he doesn’t mention it. Y/N says nothing, just continues looking inquisitively at him. Harry doesn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze–– he stares back.

“Something’s making you feel nervous. What is it?”

Harry isn’t surprised that she was able to figure out there was more to what he was feeling than just loneliness. How was he supposed to tell Y/N that she was the reason for his nervousness, though?

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“I don’t think so.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “How are you so good at reading me? S’like you’re inside my brain, Y/N.” He lets out a little chuckle after saying this but quickly stops when he realizes Y/N isn’t laughing along with him.

“You’re just easy to read,” she cooly responds after a second. “Why are you so nervous? Do you have something coming up for work?”

“Not really…”

“Then what is it? Something going on with someone in your family?”

Harry was quickly realizing Y/N wouldn’t drop this unless Harry gave her an answer. He silently hopes for the best before answering her.

“It’s you,” he mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably on his couch. “You make me nervous.” Y/N watches as his aura changes from red and blue to pink, and his cheeks flush slightly.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“You just do.”

“Why? Have I done something to hurt you?”

Y/N was so painfully oblivious that it was cute. Harry was quickly realizing that his heart doubled in size every time he talked to her.

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry reaches in the pocket of his sweatpants for a tissue, facing away from her while he pauses to blow his nose. “You’re so… you’re jus’ very interesting. Mesmerizing, really.”

Y/N feels her skin heat up at Harry’s compliment. His aura is still shining pink, the brightest pink she’s ever seen since meeting him. She was sad to see there was still quite a bit of indigo and red, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Before Y/N can stop herself, she reaches out to grab Harry’s hand. Immediately she feels his energy transfer to her and without thinking, Y/N flicks her finger out of force of habit. The beautifully potted Pothos that Harry has sitting on his television stand instantly droops, leaves turning brown and wilted.

Harry’s completely perplexed.

The first thing he notices is that he’s feeling better. Great, even. He feels as good as he felt after the interaction he had with Y/N in the Greek food place all those weeks ago. The next thing he notices is that his gorgeous Pothos, a plant that is nearly impossible to kill, is dead.

And it was all Y/N’s doing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #aura #thanks for reading!

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canarypoint · 3 years

Text

Highways and Heart Eyes

A/N: hi it’s been a while...(?) unrelated but the brie larson thing that’s going around is stuck in my head because it’s like 60% of my fyp on tiktok rn. this is inspired/based on a story my mom told me last week lmao

A/N #2 (edit): so i’m an idiot and i forgot to give it a title but if anyone noticed that before i edited it, no you didn’t.

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning(s): none? my really bad attempts at writing flirting?

Steve can say with one-hundred percent certainty that I-95 is simultaneously one of the greatest and worst things built in his time in the ice. The potholes are concerning enough, add to it the barely-bright-enough street lights and the exhausted, largely untrustworthy drivers racing their way home at almost midnight?

He almost prefers fighting Nazis or the Chitauri.

The drive itself has been boring thus far, but he thinks it might be taking a weird turn when he finds a car sitting on the side of the highway, its driver leaning against the hood flailing their unoccupied arm around while the other holds something up to the side of their face.

Steve puts his blinker on, pulling his Stark-issued (as Tony loves to call it) car up to the parked vehicle.

“Everything alright?” he asks, wincing when the person flinches at his voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m fine, just waiting for a friend,” the person answers automatically. They slide their phone into their pocket with a sigh, finally turning to Steve. “Oh my god, you’re Captain America.”

“Please, Steve is fine,” he answers with a soft laugh, trailing off in a silent question.

“Y/N,” they offer in return, their hands fidgeting.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” he asks one more time; something tells him their earlier remark was a way to ward off creeps, not an actual response to his question.

Y/N looks at the passing traffic for a moment, their eyes squinting in contemplation. “Yeah, actually,” they say through a sigh. “My car’s out of gas and my phone just died…”

“Ah, I see. Let me call a friend of mine and we’ll have you back on the road in no time,” he offers with a smile, already slipping his phone out of his own pocket.

“Thanks, Captain,” they say with a mischievous smile as Steve laughs again.

“Steve,” he jokingly reprimands as he dials the first name he sees on speed dial. “Hey, Nat, I need a favor…”

•••

Steven Grant Rogers is an idiot. A brilliant soldier, a great man, an amazing friend, a fantastic leader (usually), but he is still an idiot out of work and off the field.

He called Natasha at eleven-forty-three at night to ask her to drive all the way to the outskirts of Cecil County, Maryland from New York City, just so she could sit with a complete stranger while he drives to the nearest gas station (it’s forty minutes away, because of course there’s major traffic tonight). If she’d known he just needed to refill someone’s tank, she would’ve stopped and gotten it on the way over.

Though, the person in not-so-perilous peril is pretty cute.

“I’m so sorry,” you ramble for the millionth time. Natasha just smiles and waves you off.

“It’s fine, I promise.” She means it, just as much as the first time she said it. It’s the thirty-seventh, not that she’s counting.

“Yeah, but, you’re an Avenger and like- you probably need as much sleep as you can get and now you’re wasting your night basically babysitting me and-”

“Hey, hey, breathe. I promise this isn’t a waste of my time. It’s not every day I get to spend time with a beautiful person,” Natasha interrupts. Honestly, how you manage to say so much in so little time is baffling.

You look down, and she can just barely make out the small smile on your face. You don’t say anything after that, and Natasha finds your suddenly-flustered state adorable.

“So,” she says. Why not start a conversation? Best way to figure out if you’re secretly a threat or not, it is her job after all. Not because in the fifteen minutes she’s known you, you’ve given her a sense of peace she’s never experienced before, she tells herself. “What were you doing out so late?”

“Oh, I was visiting a friend for the weekend, I’m on my way back to New York now,” you answer. It’s interesting how easily you’ve let your guard down around her.

Natasha hums, nodding her head as you continue to ramble about your trip. She finds herself smiling the more you talk, and eventually she asks you how you and your friend met.

“We met at NYU, she was my girlfriend’s roommate our first two years. Then we broke up and she became my roommate.”

Natasha’s eyebrow raises at the first ‘girlfriend,’ but she frowns when your smile falters. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. It was what, four years ago?” you answer, your smile already back. “I think she’s on the west coast now, probably living out her dream as some old, rich, white guy’s newest plaything.”

Natasha can’t help but laugh, you sound so optimistic and innocent and yet the insult is anything but.

“And what about you? Living out your dream in the Big Apple?” Natasha asks.

You sigh almost dreamily, “Yeah, I work at a boxing club for kids in Queens. We teach them self-defense and give them a place to stay if they need it. Spider-Man actually stopped by a few weeks ago, said he was ‘in the neighborhood.’”

“That’s amazing,” Natasha says honestly.

“It was, he let some of the older kids try out his web shooters.” The redhead holds back a laugh at your obliviousness.

“I meant your job,” she corrects gently.

“Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah, I’m just trying to do my part to help people,” you reply softly. “I didn’t have a lot growing up, and my parents were never really around. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to them, too.”

“You are… something else, Y/N…” she trails off, hoping you catch on.

“Y/L/N,” you supply.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“You too, Natasha Romanoff.” The two of you laugh as Steve’s car finally approaches.

•••

Three days go by and you can’t get your conversation with the Black Widow out of your head. Looking back, you realize she was definitely flirting with you, and you were just too exhausted and oblivious to notice. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but you doubt she even remembers. It was probably just her way of filling the silence.

You internally sigh, refocusing on your surroundings.

“Jab,” you instruct, holding your target pads-clad hands up. Henry, one of the newer kids at the gym, throws his left arm forward, his feet sliding as his glove makes contact with yours. “Stand your ground, plant both feet down firmly.”

The kid corrects his stance, smiling when you nod your head in approval.

“Jab, again.” He hits the target, and you smile again when he doesn’t slip. “Nice job, buddy. Take five. And get some water!” you yell after him as he runs to the bench.

You take your gloves off as the front door’s bells chime, turning to greet the guest. “Hey, welcome, I’ll be right… with you…” you trail off as you make eye contact with a certain redhead.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Y/N Y/L/N, would you?” she asks playfully. She leans on the front counter as you jog your way over.

“Maybe, anything they might be able to help you with?”

Natasha watches as a kid walks up to you, asking for help with her boxing wraps. “Well,” she watches the way you simultaneously help the little girl and watch Natasha with ease. “I was told there’s this awesome place that helps kids learn how to fight, and I thought I’d stop by and show ‘em how an Avenger does it. Plus, I heard Spider-Man was here once, and I think having the Black Widow come by would be a much cooler story to tell.”

You laugh, ruffling the kid’s hair before whispering to her that she’s good before turning back to the Avenger. “I- Thank you,” you say softly. “You didn’t have to do tha-”

“No, but I wanted to. Plus, I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee after your shift?” she says as you lead her towards a locker in the back.

“You can put your stuff in here, they’re employee lockers, so no one’ll mess with them,” you tell her when she glances around the room. “And yeah, I’d like that.”

Natasha beams, and it’s immediately ingrained into your mind forever. Maybe getting stuck on a busy highway wasn’t too bad after all.

#woha i wrote this #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #steve rogers x platonic!reader #sdlkfhsdf i'm not happy with it but whatever

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moondustis · 4 years

Text

remember when (m)

pairing: jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, soulmate!au, rich kid!au, convenience marriage!au, hurt/comfort, college!au (more details + warnings after read more) word count: 12,7k summary: A story about vulnerability and the lines we draw to avoid it. About soulmates, desires, setting yourself free. And, of course, a story about love and discovering exactly what it is. song recs: skin by mac miller and pure love by hayley williams

warnings: there are some mentions of drug use, brief mention of mental issues, bad parenting. just overall some subjects that might not be comfortable to read like i usually put on my fics but it's nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing graphics happens! disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. none of the events described are real or are an accurate representation of the people and brands named.

a/n: i would like to thank mary (neostains) for requesting this fic and cami (caiuscassiuss) for helping me with some informations about how ivy leagues work lol. this is my longest work so far, i think, and it’s a very special one. i hope you guys enjoy it!

✶

There was a time in your childhood where you remember being obsessed with princess movies. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, name a fairytale and you would have probably watched it a couple of times, entranced by the images playing on the newest television your father had bought.

Isn’t it fucked up that young girls are always fed this stereotypical image of love? It’s like a woman is not good for anything but to love someone, to be a half until she found the other and became whole. At 8 you ate that up like no one else.

At 11 your mother hires someone to give you a talk, about how the world worked and about the weird name that would appear in your arm once you turned 18. It feels like a lecture, the woman telling you about perfect matches, the probabilities of love and soulmates in a flat tone that didn’t make you feel as excited as you did watching the fairytales you used to like. When you tell your friends at school about it, they act surprised at the way you were told and instead, tell you about the stories about meeting your true love their own parents had shared.

At 15, your mother enrolls you in preparatory school, with full theatricals about intellects and getting into the best college possible so you can do your duty as heir of your father’s company when it becomes necessary.

It takes you a while, but you realize finally that love is nothing compared to money when you see for the first time that the name on your mother's wrist is not your fathers. Not long after that, you find out that for the sake of the company, you would be marrying Jung Jaehyun, heir of the second biggest automobilistic company in the country.

At 18 you think romance and love are trivial things.

⋄

NOVEMBER, 2013

It’s a harsh winter, one that makes your hands tremble and your head hurt more than usual.

You rub at your temples as you make your way down the hallway as students pass by you at the same pace as yours to get to their next class. A dreading routine, one that is so busy it leaves you with no time to think of anything else but the essay you have to write, or the grade you have been waiting to receive.

Today, though, your headache is so intense that your mind is filled with nothing but a black void.

Despite that, you walk in small steps to your literature lecture. Your bag feels as heavy as your head and the thick wool sweater you have on is barely enough to keep you warm, legs shivering from the stupid skirt they made you wear. Knee length, of course, but still a bother to sit and move.

Fuck boarding school, is what you think as you pass a group of boys talking loudly. One of them has a Harvard pin on his cardigan, you notice in the back of your mind. It only makes you feel sicker.

The first bell rings and you realize how slow you have been really walking. A faster pace, a muttered curse and then the second bells makes you feel like your ears are melting, headache increasing. Now you’re late, a rare occurrence that will probably not affect your records in any way, but still, makes you walk faster.

It all happens very fast. You turn into the corridor that leads to your classroom but not a second later you’re bumping straight into someone, books in your hand scattering to the floor and head spinning from the impact. It’s hard keeping your balance, but the harsh grip on your forearms helps and then you’re opening your eyes, that you didn't notice you had squeezed shut in the first place.

“Fuck, I’m really sorry.” The voice is familiar but the curse feels alien on your ears. Jung Jaehyun never curses, he has manners better than that. “I’m running late and walking too fast.”

He mumbles and you almost snort at the obviousness of it all. At the fact you were literally doing the same thing. “It’s okay. I should’ve been paying more attention.” There’s no reason for either of you to be apologizing, is what you think about as your hand immediately moves to your temple again in hopes pressing on it will cease the pain.

He’s looking right at you when you finally meet his eyes. His face is painted with embarrassment, the red hue on his ears a dead giveaway. He doesn’t keep eye contact for more than five second, instead moving to pick up your books for you. “Still, I’m very sorry.” He sounds polite, as always. The curse from before is still fresh on your mind.

You had met Jung Jaehyun at the age of 9, not that you remember exactly how it went. Some random brunch where you and him sat side by side as your mothers talked about whatever was happening seven years ago. You remember your old nanny being there, and how she asked sweetly if you would like more juice. You remember missing her when she got fired three weeks later for unrelated matters that were never told to you. And that’s about it.

After that, the years passed with Jaehyun being a weird presence in your life. The rich kids ran in the same circles, that didn’t take you a long time to realize and wherever you went he was there too.

German classes at 11, the birthday party of the daughter of someone you didn't know at 12, etiquette classes at 13. An event for your father's company at 14, one of his fathers at 15 and now at 16, attending the same boarding school and having to meet each other like this, with awkward smiles and polite conversation. Because navigating a relationship you didn't know the other very well, but too well at the same time was a weird thing to do.

Jung Jaehyun was like you, but at the same time he wasn't. You were friends but at the same time merely acquaintances.

But this you remember vividly: him asking you random things at german classes and making you laugh with his awkward pronunciation. Him eating cake by your side at the birthday party, covering his lips before he asked you if you like chocolate or vanilla more. Him making fun of you quietly for dropping down your fork loudly in the middle of etiquette class. Him standing awkwardly by your side while you got reprimanded by your mother during the event, for not properly remembering the name of a lady that came to greet you, your head down as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him.

And then, his father clapping yours on the back after they talked about how lovely it would be if someday the two of you got married to join economic forces. No, not someday. When you two got married.

You, pretending he didn't exist after that day, because you realized that this too you wouldn't get to decide.

Jaehyun clears his throat, hands you your books. “How is your father?” He asks, a stupid question to ask when you're both late. A stupid question to ask, period.

You try not to grimace. “He's okay. Alive.” And then he’s chuckling lowly, awkwardly.

“That’s good, no company to run at 16 then.” He tries to joke and it's amusing, in a way that for someone else might not be. But you two are the same, at least when it comes to this.

“And hopefully never.” A stupid thing to hope for, but still he smiles at you.

Then the moment is over, the third alarm sounds and both your eyes shoot open and you’re muttering goodbyes before heading to your classes.

Your head still hurts, but you don’t feel as cold anymore.

⋄

2015

Anticipation, isn’t that just a fancier word to describe the gut feeling that something is going to happen? Worst yet when you know exactly what it is, but have no possible ways of knowing the possible outcome.

There’s a window behind your advisor, with a view to the field where the lacrosse team practices. You watch it with a lack of interest as the older lady flips through pages and more pages of what is possibly your future.

No, not possibly. Definitely your future. Because at least to this, you knew the only outcome possible.

It’s a pretty day, one that shouldn’t be spent inside a room with wood furniture and shelves and more shelves of books, that are almost as many as the certificates on the wall. Not when it also happens to be your birthday.

“This is a really good essay, ___. You have a talent with words.” Your advisor breaks the silence in a flat voice despite it being a compliment. It makes your eyes immediately refocus on her but she gives you no time yet to reply. “I am sure the admission team will read it with interest.”

“Thank you.” A polite smile reaches your lips. She was never much of a praiser, not that she needed to be. Your last name carried all the confidence you needed to have for a thing like this.

And, perhaps the interest they would be having would be exactly about that. What does the only heir of the biggest automotive company in the country have to offer for Stanford? Probably a lot, with a weight that heavy on her shoulders.

“You have started applications to only two schools, are you sure you would not like to add more?” Now she says it in a weirdly soft tone. Persuasion, because it would look good for the school that one of their best students accepted to all the ivy leagues. Your GPA would make sure of that, but that's not all.

“I don’t see the point. Stanford has always been my only choice.” You say it as nicely as possible because this is an old conversation.

“I see, well. This is it then, there's a few other students interested in attending Stanford too." She smiles bitterly, gathering the papers and putting it back on their respective folders. "But the chances of you getting in are very good. I'm sure all your hard work will pay off.”

You go to thank her but at that moment there's a pinch on your arm that leaves you distracted. It's followed by a weird burning sensation that doesn't cease when you grip it underneath the table as gently as possible. If anything, the fabric of your cardigan only makes it worse.

She bids you your goodbyes, with pleasantries exchanged but when you reach the door to leave she interrupts. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, ____.” She smiles when you turn to thank her. “Please enjoy the rest of the day, turning 18 is very special.”

With a small bitter smile and promise to do so, you leave the room.

You reach your dorm room in no time, a stoic face on but with quick steps. And you try not to think about it, but the burning sensation on your arms continues.

It goes like this:

You close the door behind you gently, dropping your things down and immediately crumbling as you slide to the floor, unable to stand still anymore. You cry, for the second time today because birthdays were just not good. For about 10 minutes that's all that happens, your silent sobs and complete silence filling the room.

The burning in your arms stays there as a painful reminder and it tempts you to look, even though you know that the outcome didn't matter, not for you. Because behind blurry teary eyes you can see perfectly the image of your own mother's arm and the name of someone you didn't know, that she probably also didn't.

Because you are now 18 and you think romance and love are trivial things, that's all they could be.

You are now 18, and when you can't stand not knowing for another minute, you raise the sleeve of your cardigan and the name Jung Jaehyun is there on your wrist.

An ugly, incredulous laugh leaves your lips and soon turns into a sob. Of course it had to be him, you and Jung Jaehyun were tied to each other for a reason that was beyond fate.

You squeeze your eyes at the same time your hands squeeze your thighs, trying to get a grip. You calm yourself down, deep breaths in and out, your mind providing the good and the bad. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like a trick the universe was playing on you. One, it would be worse if another name appeared, a name that you would have to pretend didn't exist, because this was just another thing you didn't have a say in. This was supposed to happen anyway, maybe it was better this way.

Then your mind provides another thought that makes your mind swirl. Jung Jaehyun had turned 18 in February, your name had appeared on his arms months ago and he didn't say a word about it to you, or to anyone for all you know. Maybe he was pretending too, maybe he wanted more time thinking that at least this he would get to choose.

Well, whatever fairytale that had been created inside stupid minds, was gone now.

⋄

The whole thing is announced two weeks later, in a gossip magazine with information from an inside source. Information that is carefully crafted from a marketing team the moment you reveal the result.

A result, like a test had been applied and you got Jung Jaehyun for whatever reason.

You exchange pleasantries the next time you see him, no trace of being too young to know the rest of your lives already. You just look at each other in maybe defeat, while your families make a toast to celebrate a wedding to take place in a few years from now. A wedding that held meaning beyond the marks that tied the two of you. Destiny just helped a little bit, it was just a good excuse to justify a marriage that had been arranged ages ago.

A month later you get accepted to Stanford, of course you do. And your mother's smile is a loud reminder of every single time she called you and inquired about every grade, every step you made to make sure this happened and that it all happened accordingly.

It doesn't take you long to find out Jaehyun got accepted there too.

⋄

AUGUST 2016

The heels of your Miu Miu boots make small stomping noises on the wood floor sounds as you walk through shelves and shelves filled with books. It’s not a loud sound, probably only perceived by your own ears, and you let it distract you as you navigate the big corridors of the Green Library.

Stanford had made your eyes shine during your first visit and then for the first months of your freshman year. The thrill of finally experiencing something new and yet undiscovered carried on until it gave space to normalcy, another routine. But this time, a feeling blossomed inside your stomach with wanting to eat it up.

A feeling that died and resurrected every now and then, but you played it safe. Navigating it with baby steps with fear of what could happen if you strained a little too far from the line. And what could that be? A magazine spread on how a famous philanthropic's daughter parties too hard in college, with pictures of you doing a line on marble countertops? A class failed and the disappointment on your mother's voice when she called you? A scandal about your night escapades? You didn’t want to find out just yet.

So you settle for your new routine, of going out every now and then with the roommates that you were about to consider friends. Pondering if it’s worth it to join another club, just to feel like there's something else that makes you feel excited. Coming to the library, studying to keep your mind busy because your thoughts were never up to no good.

And it's so easy, being busy like you always managed to, with assignments, and volunteering and maintaining a perfect GPA.

It's also easy to ignore Jung Jaehyun’s existence. Because this time, unlike in boarding school, the task is much simpler, since classes are filled with so many people that on the ones you shared with him you barely get a glance of his eyes. Because he ran around in circles that had nothing to do with yours.

It was always clear to you, since youth, that Jaehyun was a social butterfly that just needed a little pushing, and he was nice enough that people always wanted him near. A high contrast to your quietness and introverted ways, staying in small circles and almost never allowing people to get too close.

It's weird thinking about him, putting a face to the name that was forever marked on your skin as a reminder of your future. It was weird thinking that it was easy to ignore this feeling too, like all the other ones that you have kept away in your small little box. The feelings that came out at least once a year when it all became too much, and you would sit in a duvet to spill all the dead butterflies inside your stomach out on the floor of a therapy clinic.

But even like this, weirdness doesn't begin to cover the way sometimes you catch yourself thinking of a memory that involves him, random and unexpected. A moment shared before the two of you discovered what expected you, before destiny was revealed. And you don't pretend that it's not real, that you don't feel the longing and need to be close, that your skin doesn't tingle when you see him around campus. You were long past pretending now, because there was no reason to play dumb when sometimes all you had were your own thoughts to rot your brain.

What you were good at, though, was concealing it all.

Was Jaehyun good at that too? Now that's something that you think about more than you would like. It didn't help that sometimes you would bump into him out of nowhere.

You enter the marketing aisle, eyes fixed on the small numbers taped to each section in hopes that the book you need was still here. It takes you awhile to realize that there's someone else with you, only moving your head up when you hear the footsteps approaching.

“Hi.” Jaehyun says, a small smile on his lips that is as gentle as every other thing about his looks. He stands close, but not too much. A safe distance for you to run your eyes through his body one time, eyes stopping at the big ‘S’ on his sweatshirt.

You clear your throat before greeting him back. “Hello.” Your voice is low, thoughtful of your surroundings, but you match his smile in a silent agreement of politeness.

His eyes run through your face the same way yours does his. Curiosity, or maybe the longing feeling you try to not think about. The unspoken space in between the two of you is intact for now.

He has changed so much in a year, is what you always think about when you two get to see each other up close. It always made you feel a weird nostalgia, seeing a face you had known for so long but now feels a little out of reach because of your own stubbornness. Your own fears.

“What book are you looking for?” He asks after some time, making small talk.

You turn your eyes to the books, him following. “Uhm, Kotler.”

“Oh, of course. How is marketing going?” You almost laugh at his attempt to make conversation, a skill well acquired during etiquette class.

“It’s okay. Not regretting it yet.” A half lie. Maybe another thing you were keeping locked deep down, your dislike for your major. But thinking about that while having a conversation with your soulmate was far from something you wanted to do.

He hums amused, eyes still fixed on the shelf. “That's good.”

You finally find the book, leaning down to get it and hugging it to your chest as your mind searches for something to offer for your own piece of ice breaker. Then you remember seeing his face last week printed on a glossy paper, an intricate article on consumerism tendencies online besides it.

“Congrats on the publication.” You say, facing him again. It’s genuine, because you knew how things like that really mattered. Small things that were nowhere near the accomplishments expected of the two of you, but still something to be proud of.

He laughs lowly, with bashful manners of looking down to his feet and with ears turning red. “It’s just a campus magazine.” Because of course he would be humble, amongst all the other qualities you were well acquainted with. Deep down you know that it's just a reflection of the high expectations that have been set the moment he was born.

“Still, it was very well written. And everyone said it was impressive for a freshman.” Everyone being the friend that showed you the magazine, but you'll pretend for him that it was something more. To try and erase the feeling of not deserving something that probably runs through his mind.

You would crush it beneath your boots if you could, it's the weird thought that runs through yours.

He huffs. “Well, it’s Stanford. Hard to know what's gonna be impressive and what is just expected of you.”

“Good thing we are all promising young adults that don't need their egos to be fed, right?” You joke back and it makes him laugh a little too loudly, quickly stopping himself as you two exchange awkward but familiar glances with tiny smiles on your lips.

A moment of silence settles next, one that lasts only long enough for you to shift the weight from one leg to another. Then he's asking. “Are you… Are you doing something this weekend?”

“I’m expected at a company party.” You reply flatly, blinking twice but not really pondering the reasons for his curiosity. You two stare at each other for a second that passes quickly.

“The HSBC event?” He asks and you nod, expecting the words he says next. “Oh, I'll attend it as well.”

“Boring, huh?” An attempt to continue a conversation that should've ended by now.

“Yeah.” He looks at you, and then away, and then back at you. “I was thinking that we could have din-“

Footsteps interrupt his words and you look behind your shoulder to see who the newcomer is. A tall man, taller than Jaehyun even, smiles at you guiltily before he’s looking at Jaehyun and raising his brows. “We are late, dude.” He deadpans as you look between the two of them.

“Shit, I didn’t realize.” Jaehyun says in a groan, bringing his big watch to his face, and you have to contain a smile at the curse. Then he turns to you. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

“It’s fine.” You mumble, the book still held tight against your chest.

He waves awkwardly as the other man throws you another smile. You watch them leave with trembling fingers.

⋄

DECEMBER 2017

December always made you feel a little weird. Blame it on the cold and the days spent in bed trying to get the warmth you craved. Or on the impending approach of winter break and having to deal with your parents and your obligations for the month to follow.

But you try not to think about that just yet, when the time comes you'll deal with it. That's what you always do. For now you let your bed swallow you as you scroll down mindless through your instagram feed, double tapping publications of past boarding school acquaintances smiling with the Harvard location attached to each picture, just like the brand names are attached to their clothes. It's a little pathetic to you that your own account looks the same, with pictures carefully picked with a marketing tactic in mind.

Your little distraction is interrupted when the door to your room opens and your roommate, Ela, walks in, clearly shivering from the cold even underneath her thick dark grey coat. “God, it's fucking freezing outside.” She mumbles as a greeting, removing her boots and setting it close to the door before draping her coat on her chair.

“How was the meeting?” You ask from under your blankets, laughing a little as she drops her things on her own bed. The question makes her sigh loudly.

“That dude is still an asshole.” The dude in question being her partner to a never ending project of rebranding that sometimes stressed even you, from how much she talked about it. “But we are almost done with it now.”

“That's good.”

She plops on her bed, across from yours and a comfortable silence settles for a moment as she probably tries to have a moment of calmness.

Ela was an old face on your life, having attended the same school but never really getting closer than knowing each other's name. Still, it was good that you got paired to dorm with her. A familiar face that became a friend of sorts, as the two of you built a relationship on things in common and the want to have someone you could trust in a new place. And she was different than you, more outgoing, had a liking for socializing that you could never match, but still understood you.

“Hey, did you finish that essay already?” She asks, turning her face to you.

“Yes, it was bitch to write.”

“And Kotler is super boring to read.” A sigh escapes her lips and you agree loudly because she's right. Sometimes, when you allowed yourself a moment of wishful thinking, you would wonder what it would be like to have a major that you didn't feel like your brain was melting from boredom when reading about.

“I'm really tired.” You reply, just to say something back.

“Same. Are you doing something for winter break?”

In your mind you know exactly what you'll be doing, a schedule even ready on your mind, but instead you say “Not really, are you?”

She hums, voice tired but still excited as she goes on about how she wants to go to Europe again, visit Amsterdam because that was one of her favorite travel destinations. When you ask how it was, she describes in perfect detail, how the streets looked and how it felt very welcoming, telling you that you absolutely had to go there someday.

You promise to go and in the back of your mind you wish you could. Maybe you can if you can do more week hours on your internship and ask for a free week.

You shake your head at that though.

“Oh, I got this little get together today. At that bar downtown.. .Do you want to go?” You know she’s asking out of politeness, not because she didn't want you there but because you rarely said yes to her invitations.

But there’s a tiny spark on your chest, one that resembles the restless feeling you would get when you stayed too long laying down. It's not a motivation as much as it is boredom and the wish to feel something other than half emptiness. Other than the want to escape.

“Ok.” You say, shrugging slightly.

“Really?”

The raise of her brow makes you laugh. “Yeah, we are getting home next week. That's the last time I get to do this for a while.”

⋄

The bar is a little crowded, with winter break approaching and no one really daring step outside for a smoke because of how cold it is. The owners took great advantage of that by offering a ‘buy two get one free’ deal, that if you take a closer look at is really just a scam considering the price. But it's enough to fool college students that are excited about being away from this place for a while.

That’s what you think about after you down the remnants of the third drink you and your roommate shared. It’s not that kind of night, of getting wasted and not remembering anything the next day. It’s more of a little get together, for your roommate's club members and you are here merely as an intruder.

You feel just a little tipsy as you listen to her friends talk, some of them you knew from afar and some were just strangers that were nice enough to make you laugh every now and then. Still, you feel detached from the conversation, smiling and nodding when needing but not really taking part.

“What about you, ___?” A girl with round cheeks and pretty eyes asks you regarding your vacation plans. “You gotta invite us if you are throwing a party.”

You scoff before you can catch yourself. Alcohol always drops your inhibitions a little, but still you are quick to cover it up. You laugh along with the others, promising to invite everyone even though you are not throwing any parties, most likely never.

You roommate looks at you from the corner of her eye, smiling sympathetically because she knows you, and knows how stupid her friends are, but it's fine. You just wish you could just take it easily, the interest, the wanting to get close so they too will appear in a gossip magazine and live the life they think you do, without wanting to tell them to get a fucking life already, because this is just pathetic.

You smile back at her, wishing for another drink as your thigh highs start to roll a little uncomfortably. Shifting from leg to leg does nothing to help it, so you try to push the little annoyance to the back of your mind.

The small groups divide in different topics over the time, and you find yourself talking to some guy you had never seen before, that goes on and on about his amazing business ideas and how successful it's going to be when he finds the right stakeholders. You nod and try to focus through the whole thing.

The rest of the night goes like that. Fake laughter, loud music and conversation that gets more boring as the clock ticks, so you find an escape excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, not because you need to but to get away for a second.

In retrospect maybe it would've been better to endure another discussion about LA clubs and entrepreneurship.

The bar is so crowded that you have to excuse yourself at least five times, and on the sixth one you end up bumping into someone.

“Oh.” Is the clever thing you say when your eyes are met with Jaehyun already looking at you, his eyes lower than usual from probably taking advantage of the drink deal like you had.

He looks relaxed, hair parted in a way that shows his forehead and an all black outfit that doesn’t look as expensive as it probably is, but he makes it work so well that you do a double look while in your hazy state. If he notices, he doesn’t show it by the way he keeps his smile unfazed at you.

“We gotta stop seeing each other by accident,” he says, laughing a little.

“Yeah.” His words take a little to digest so you keep looking at him for a beat of a second. It’s a first, seeing him in a place like this. Where you can see just how well he really can adjust to any setting. He fits right in with the low lights and the relaxed atmosphere.

“This is Johnny.” He gestures for the guy besides him, who turns his attention to you and smiles in a way that’s a little familiar. Then you realize he’s the guy from the library over a year ago, and the friend Jaehyun posted pictures every now and then on his instagram page.

“Hey, It’s nice to meet you.” Johnny says, same smile from before still on and you return it. “Have heard a lot about you.”

That makes you laugh, a mixture of confusion and excitement and politeness that confuses even yourself. “Good things I hope.”

He tilts his head playfully. “Only the best things you can hear in place like this.”

The three of you share smiles, the interaction then turning into a conversation promoted by a question you ask, both from wanting to have something to say and out of curiosity. Johnny does most of the talking, explaining how he and Jaehyun had been friends for a while but only got closer now that they are attending the same university. They share a story of something that happened, them buying each other the same thing for christmas and you listen to the whole thing entranced.

It’s weird in some way how you can learn so much from your own soulmate from someone else. And it's weird how you react with joy, perhaps, to the teasing Johnny does to Jaehyun so naturally.

When the conversation settles down, Johnny looks between the two of you for a few seconds before he’s excusing himself to find an unnamed person. It was predictable he would do that, with the way he kept aiming the conversation to make it about Jaehyun, as if he somehow had to wing his friend to you.

You stare at your shoes, unsure of what to say now and maybe too worn out from the whole night to come up with something to talk about. But you don’t have to, because soon he’s asking “Are you here alone?”

You look up, a tiny smile on your lips. “No, I came with my roommate. But she's with her friends.”

“Oh, I’ll keep you company then.” He offers and you nod, following him to the bar where it's more illuminated and you can both lean a little on the counter.

Jaehyun is good at making people feel comfortable, you had noticed that many times before and it's no surprise when he asks you about your roommate, about what songs you have been listening to lately. He tries to keep a conversation with ease, even if it stays in the usual surface you two are used to.

If you weren't so distracted by everything, your mind would probably offer that it feels a lot like when you were kids and standing in the corner of a ballroom in uncomfortable clothes, talking about things that didn't matter.

“Have you ever been to Amsterdam?” You ask him suddenly when the past topic dies down.

“Yeah, it's really nice there.”

You hum, remembering your roommate's words. “That’s cool, I really want to go there someday.”

Out of nowhere he starts laughing a little, as if you had said something funny. When you inquire about it, he shakes his head clearly amused by the way his eyes squint a little from his smile. “It's just… Don’t you think it's weird that we have known each other for all these years, and all we do is do this weird small talk?”

You laugh too, speaking before you can stop yourself. “And still for some reason I feel like I know you.”

His eyebrows raise for a second but his smile is unfaltering, your statement not bothering him. “You know me.” He says, as a matter of fact. “And I know you.”

Now this makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn't last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that it's true, you know him and he knows you. Not everything, but what would be the fun in that.

Maybe that's why the two of you kept doing this small talk, to get to know each other better even in the smallest things. That's what getting to know someone is, after all. Not the business interviews and networking you grew up with.

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “What is your favorite thing about me then?” It's what you ask, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. Or because you actually want to know, out of curiosity or vanity.

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face as if in deep thought, before he replies. “I like that you are smart.”

The simplicity of it makes you snort. “Please, that's a cliche thing to say in a place like this.” You say, mimicking the words his friend had said to you earlier. “What does that even mean?”

“I don't know.” He shrugs while laughing, “Johnny just says things like that sometimes.”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you turn on the counter to stare forward. Your roommate is on the opposite side of yours, leaning against a wall while talking to a girl taller than her but just as pretty. The view makes a tiny smile settle on your lips, the beginning of a spark on your chest.

It always amazed you how people who didn't know their soulmate yet continued to live on, simply letting the universe do its thing naturally. In your young mind you had always thought that love was supposed to be a yearning that you couldn't control, that you would have to be with the person you love no matter what, and do anything to find them. That had changed now.

You turn to Jaehyun again. “What would you say is your favorite thing about me then, if we didn't know each other already?” You ask. It's a weird question because it makes him raise one eyebrow at you, but there's still not a trace of annoyance on his face.

“Isn't that also cliche to say?” He huffs. “That you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen?”

You can't help the embarrassed laugh that leaves your parted lips in shock. “Are you flirting with me?”

His ear gets an incredible red shade and you find it extremely charming. “It's just the truth.” He defends himself and it only makes you giggle more.

You thank him, tell him that you think he’s pretty too and correct it to handsome when he raises one eyebrow again. It makes a nice atmosphere settle and you feel comfortable enough to ask “So... if we didn't know each other you would flirt with me at a random party? Buy me a drink and all that?”

He smiles, dimples showing while he brushes his hair back. It's not the first time, of course, but you find yourself a little in awe at how pretty he actually is. Pretty in a way that makes you feel a little out of it, stunned by the way his lips start forming his next words.

“What do you like to drink?” He asks casually.

Now it's your turn to raise one eyebrow. “Hmm, I like Moscow Mules.”

You watch as he turns to the bar, calling the waiter over and ordering two drinks of your said preference. The mixture of feelings on your chest make you feel drunker than you did before and you wish you could put a name to it. Excitement, amusement, whatever it is only increases when he looks at you again.

“I’m Jung Jaehyun, by the way.” He offers, smiling sweetly and you match it when you realize what he's playing at

“I’m _____. It's nice to meet you.”

⋄

Playing pretend with him is easy, even more when the drinks make your inhibitions fall completely. Jaehyun tells a joke and you lean forward a little. Then you talk about something and he comes closer as if to hear better. Another drink and plenty of silly conversation later, he's completely invading your space in a way that you don't feel slightly bothered by.

Not even when leans to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You leave the bar giggling like the two mildly drunk people you are, basking in the joy of it and of the little fantasy you two have created. Jaehyun keeps you close, your hands linked and it's such a nice feeling that you get even more overwhelmed in a good way. The two of you walk almost glued to each other basically skipping and muttering playfully things just to say something.

When you are near the dorm complex, he stops abruptly and when you turn to him, his hands find your cheeks and his eyes search yours for a brief moment before he’s bringing your face closer to his.

It's a sweet kiss, contrary to what you thought it would be when you allowed yourself to think about this. You had always imagined desperation, not being able to endure not doing it anymore. But the reality is that Jaehyun kisses you with delicacy and even if there is desperation to it, it's not in a way that overpowers anything else. But in a way that makes you moan lowly, makes you press him even closer by grabbing his shirt as he moves his lips slowly against yours.

There are no fireworks, no deep realization that you are kissing the person you are meant to be with for the rest of your life. But it's good, makes you want more, makes you want to bring him closer than possible, and maybe that's proof enough.

You reach his dorm in a blink after that, him having a bit of a hard time opening the door but when he does it takes no time for you to be pressed to it.

For a moment he just looks at you, eyes hazy and shining. They run through your face the same way yours does his, with longing that is finally allowed. You try to quiet the way your heart beats by leaning forward and kissing him.

The kiss is hungry but never too fast, with his hands moving to your hips and you pulling on his lips. When you moan a little at the feel, he opens his mouth a little, sliding his tongue against yours and you swear at yourself for waiting so long. Swear that you will never get enough of this.

Your lips move together in a way that is proof enough to you that this is something else even in your drunk state. His lips are soft, tongue moving with yours as if he wants to take his time and when your hands move from his shoulders to his neck he shudders, parting from you with a wet sound.

“W-We should...” He murmurs against your lip and you nod before he even finishes, letting him lead you to his bed. It feels a lot like yours, and the rest of the room is just as familiar but you pay no attention to that when he lays you on it gently.

It’s no surprise that Jaehyun is a giving lover and you figure that out when he kisses you like he wants to find out exactly what you like. Exactly how to make you fall apart in his hands.

He does everything with an expertise that maybe should make you feel jealous, but out of all things you are, a hypocrite is not one of them. So he shows you what he has learn from other people, and you show him what you have

And he doesn't settle for anything less than kissing all over your body after the two of you get undressed. For less than telling you in whispered words that he has dreamed about this before so many times and immediately swallowing with his tongue the words you would never be able to let out.

That you had dreamed about this too. Dreamed about coming on his tongue as he eats you out, your hands grabbing at his hair and seeing stars. A giving lover, of the best kind, Even more when he asks, with his mouth shining with your arousal. “How do you want it?”

You blink as your mind spins with the endless possibilities, but the ultimate realization that you would have him any way. You decide on the one that gives you more control. “I… I want to ride you.”

He bites his lips, ears burning red again. “Yeah,” His words come out mumbles as he just looks at you for a second before moving to lay on his back. “Yeah, ok. Fuck.”

You straddle his hips after he rolls down the condom, his eyes looking up at you in what you think is adoration, pure desire. And then you kiss him again, all tongue but still slow. So deep that you think you’ll never forget what he tastes like.

He lets you sink down at your own pace, palms on your ass when you move slowly, feeling him stretch you with every inch you sit on. He hums, hands tracing your skin delicately and it only makes it so much worse.

You move, a grind at first testing the water and immediately crying out lowly from the friction and you look for support with nails grabbing at his chest. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Good?” A stupid question to ask with the way you are so wet around him that the room is filled with a squelching sound when you move up and down with all the patience in the world.

Still, you nod. “You feel - Fuck - really good.”

He looks down at where you’re connected, biting his lips to suppress the noises you want him to let out so you move your hips with purpose, eyes roaming his face to watch it contort in pleasure as he lets out the prettiest moan you have ever heard. Low and deep.

His hands move further down then, gripping your hips and moving you in a grind that feels too good. So good that you have to drop your arms to his chest for leverage as he moves you to his liking, pushing your hips back and forth.

You come with your back arching, long moan of his name as your entire body shakes and tingles and you have to grip at the sheets beside you for support. You try to keep moving as your orgasm washes over you but its too much and your walls clenching around his cock makes him grip your ass even tighter, the action sending a thrill down your body as you fall forward on his chest with a wail.

Your mind swims in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun.

He waits for a second, hand moving to your back as your body trembles, drawing calming circles on it. When you have calmed down, he plants his feet on the bed and starts moving his hips up slowly and patiently but with deep strokes that make you bite your lip with oversensitivity.

And when you can, you move your head up, balancing yourself on your arms and looking at him. He wastes no time in kissing you, not deep because he parts his lips in a groan during a particular stroke, speeding his movements and grunting when you try to meet them back.

It’s when he has had enough, that he pulls out only to turn you on your back so he can enter you more easily, his hips now meeting yours in a pace that tells you that he’s close.

“Jae, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He looks proud of being able to get you like this.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Deep?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you in the brink of another orgasm. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again, stars behind your eyelids.

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally releasing inside the condom.

He pulls out, breath heavy as he smiles at you falling putty on the bed and watching as he removes the condom and disposes it only to come quickly to the bed quickly.

He hovers over you, kissing you sweetly. Your arms find his shoulders easily as the two of you bask in the afterglow of it.

Then he kisses you again, tongues dancing together and you don’t mind when his hand starts to wander again, sending goosebumps to your body. His fingers find your clit with ease, circling it slowly before applying more pressure as your lips part and your hand grip his arm, for support and not to cut the actions.

You come again, not as strong as your first one but still enough to have you shaking a little and screaming silently. His finger stays at your clit, hovering until he asks again in a whisper. “Another?”

You nod, and he resumes his actions slowly, until you are seeing starts and he swallows your moans with kisses and stops your trembling with soft hands grounding you.

When you recover your breath, an incredulous laughter leaves your lips. “You’re insane.” He just smiles, nose brushing against yours. “God, I...I gotta clean up now.”

He moves to get up. “Yeah sure, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

You end up cleaning together, a shower that doesn't take you long, even if it's hard to keep your hands to yourselves but you are both tired, feeling a little drained after the glow has gone away.

⋄

Afterwards, you are laying on his bed side by side, surrounded by the smell of his body wash and wearing the big t-shirt and sweatpants he offered you.

Your mind starts wandering lazily with the remnants of your high, that's why the words escape your mouth without much thought. “Isn't it weird that even if we have someone in the world meant for us we can still feel lonely?” You are not lonely right now, not really. Maybe it's just the sadness of winter speaking, or maybe you're still a little drunk.

He takes a second to reply, voice low when he does. “Yeah. But you don't have to.” He says.“ Feel lonely, I mean. You don't have to.”

It's a little funny how he feels the need to explain himself to you, as if you don't quite understand him when the reality it's both very far from that and exactly it at the same time.

“I don't think thats how it works. It's not up to me.” If it was, wouldn't you have stopped being lonely by now? Wouldn't you have finally succumbed to the desperate need of wanting someone, something, when late night hit and the mark in your arm would burn just as your eyes as you fought back tears?

Still, he says simply. “I think it is.”

You smile sadly then, turning to him a little and watching as he kept his gaze on the ceiling. He looked relaxed, as if this setting was soothing his mind and it makes a familiar feeling blossom on your chest. “What did you feel when the mark showed up on your arm?” A question that you had wanted to ask the moment you found out it was him, but instead had failed miserably to guess the answer to.

“Relief.” He says without thinking, a truthful and genuine reply.

“That you wouldn't have to end up marrying someone that wasn't your soulmate?” You ask. All these years you had thought that this must've been it, what you felt that day.

“No. I was relieved that it was you anyway.” Is his reply, body turning and eyes meeting yours. For a second you’re frozen, blinking because it’s strange to have someone put their feelings out so easily.

“Is… Is that what love is, then?” You ask softly. “Relief that you have at least one person that makes you feel held?”

Maybe this is not really what he meant, and more so wishful thinking of your part than anything else, but still he nods.

“I think it’s that. And other things.” His voice is soft when he says this. “I'm not sure what it is, but I want to find out.”

You can’t help as you examine his face after his confession. Is this what being soulmates is, then? Having someone that it's worth taking the risk of finding out? Or maybe it’s having someone that will show you exactly what it is.

Does all that explain the way you can't look away from him?

“Me neither.” You reply in the same quiet voice because it’s true. You tend to act like you know everything, and that you know what love is. You know love it’s pathetic and that it gets in the way of things, but is it really that bad? So you ask “Is it bad that I think you'll only love me because the mark on your arm tells you to?”

He laughs briefly. “No, it makes sense.” His eyes find yours again. “But you know it’s not, don't you?”

“I do.” At least you do now.

Maybe that's why you fall asleep so easily

⋄

2014 (flashback)

It’s the last day before summer break and Jaehyun is tired.

The other four guys he shared a room with are all packing their things for a nice vacation somewhere in Europe or one of the paradisiac beaches they all like to talk about. Jaehyun just wants to get home, not think about college applications for two months and maybe go somewhere he can be alone for a while.

“Sooyoung is kinda hot, huh?” Yugyeom says out of nowhere and the room settles in a unison hum of agreement. He joins in too.

There’s a loud creak noise as another one of his roommates slumps into the bed but he doesn't bother checking who it is, mind somewhere else as he stares at the ceiling.

“True. But I would die if Ela gave me her number.” Jungkook sighs dreamily and Jaehyun can't help the snort that escapes his lips. Just yesterday they had a conversation exactly like this one, but not quite as innocent. Trust a group of men that have no idea who their roommates are to act like this.

Even though Doyoung, the only one of them that already knew, still acted the same when it came to this. His soulmate isn't someone he knew already, so what was the point in waiting. That's why he asks the next question. “Jaehyun, you know ___, right? Does she stick to the whole ‘waiting’ thing?”

Jaehyun blinks, shifts almost unnoticeable. “I don't know her like that.” Is what he says, which is a half true. He knows her, probably things no one else knows but that’s what happens when you grow up in the same circles, he guesses. Right now though, he feels like he doesn’t know her anymore, not with the distance she had put between them after the wedding was announced by your parents.

Then, he starts thinking about himself. Is he waiting for his soulmate? He has kissed some girls, but it never went beyond that. But now he remembers coming home from german class one day and his mother making soft cake as she told him about the name that would appear on his wrist.

He remembers that he had said loudly that he wished ____ would be his name, because then they could be better friends for some reason as silly as playing around together.

Sicheng interrupts his thoughts by snorting loudly. “Are you really trying to hit?” He asks Doyoung. “Gonna end up in the cover of a magazine for trying to corrupt the nation’s good girl.”

The room erupts in laughter and comments after that. He drowns it with his mind going somewhere else.

That night he dreams about her.

⋄

10, FEBRUARY 2018

Winter break goes by quickly with one too many end of the year celebration and wishing people you had never seen before a happy new year.

You spend your days fulfilling your internship at the company you would one day own, following around the superiors for the Marketing team and playing nice when they try to flatter you.

So busy that you can barely think about it, but you still do. You think about him so often that you think you have lost your mind. And you see Jung Jaehyun too, here and there at parties, between whiskey glasses, tuxedos and unspoken words. Because, as you always thought, keeping it all unsaid is easier. At least for now.

Perhaps he knows it all, in a different way than you. So the two of you kept it lowkey, for the duration of those two months that are now gone with the wind. Two months of not a single magazine spread on your escapades, or you parents mentioning anything that is out of the ordinary.

It's as if the two of you have a secret, that some may assume, but still don't know for sure. What you and Jaehyun did that night is kept inside a locked box, one that you share with him and that every moment until now seems to fit in. What you don't know is if he too keeps the box as sacred as you do.

What you don't know is if the thought of it being opened by prying eyes scares him too.

Being back to campus is, ironically, a breath of fresh air. No more business meetings disguised as family celebrations, or stupid networking, or smiling for a camera to say that the company has never been better. No more internship and lack of time for something else.

February comes and it's just you, your dorm bed and the roommate you will miss when it's time. Just the lectures and keeping busy and trying not to think about things only to fail miserably.

But then, there are the phone calls, never ending and always the same. Or almost always.

The phone lights up, stupid ringtone, and your heart starts beating a little faster. How could someone ever guess what a phone call is about? Not having control made you antsy.

Your mother greets you as always, stern words, asking how you have been out of politeness. You spend the entire phone call waiting for her to just say what she wants to already.

She mentions being busy, good opportunities, of an article you should read and something that sounds like a threat if you let yourself slip and get a scandal, even though she has said all this not long ago after gifting you another piece of jewelry you’ll keep stored deep in your drawer.

At least this time it doesn't take long for her to finally say what she wants. “Jaehyun’s birthday is soon. Don't forget to greet him.”

“I won't.” You reply simply but she’s quick to cut you off.

“Publicly. Maybe sending flowers would be good, or buying something that can get attention from the press.” It’s obvious this is not about you and your soulmate, it’s about you and your future. As everything is.

“Ok.”

“Just because he's your soulmate doesn't mean people will connect you two together forever.” She continues, never knowing when to stop. “You have to remind them of that.”

“I know that.” Because you do. There was no guarantee that your marriage with Jaehyun would be good publicity if the two of you weren’t liked or even popular.

You fear that when the time comes, people will realize something you yourself already has. That maybe you don’t really deserve Jaehyun, not because he’s better than you, but because you are not sure you can give him the love he deserves.

What you don't know clearly yet, is that you’re selfish and want him anyway.

“Good.” Your mother says and then the line cuts.

One time a therapist told you that maybe your mother was jealous. Because you would get to experience something she didn't, being with your soulmate, and that it was normal. It didn't mean she was evil and hated you. Another one said that that was the reason she was so stern, she wanted to keep you in line to prevent you from failure so as to not hurt you. That, behind the lack of affection, was a wish for your happiness.

Maybe there will be a time you understand that plenty. Maybe some things can never be truly fixed, only forgotten.

Four days days after that, you text Jaehyun a simple happy birthday with a heart at the end of it. You also get a chocolate cake sent to his place from a bakery you like, and when he calls to thank you, you tell him to not post it anywhere.

He laughs and tells you that it's a good idea.

⋄

2007 (flashback)

It was another late afternoon party, for another thing that you couldn’t remember or care about because things like this shouldn't really matter when you are only ten years old. Still, you had watched the other kids play with each other as their parents talked business and laughed, drunk from the bubbly drinks they downed glass after glass of.

For a moment you felt like reaching out and playing with them too, but it died soon and you stayed unmoving on the chair you had been placed in, while your parents did the same as the others somewhere in the distance.

It had been a pretty day, you remember, the sun was about to set and it made the shiny fabric on the tablecloths that were spread around the individual tables set outside, sparkle just the tiniest bit. You played with it to have something to distract yourself with.

You remember too, that Jung Jaehyun and his family were at the table right in front of yours, your parents greeting each other and talking briefly. Later on the party you had watched as he listened to something his mother said to him. She was beautiful, like your own mother, and you had heard her voice before so it had been easy to imagine in what tone she was speaking. Soft and low, how warmth felt like. As to the content of her words you would never know, but it had clearly been something nice because it made her son laugh as she patted his head.

You didn’t know back then that this moment would stick with you for the years to come, for a reason that at ten years old you were just beginning to understand. But still, the weird twist in your stomach, as you started to realize that something was wrong, would be felt many more times. As you realized that your family dynamics were not as warm as the others appeared to be.

⋄

25, FEBRUARY 2018

What you and Jaehyun have turns into something hard to describe.

The line you had so clearly put between the two of you, to avoid your future, had been replaced now by acceptance and the weird feeling of navigating a relationship that It’s still a new thing, but it’s also nice enough. Especially when he sends you a silly text and jokes about something, later on commenting the same thing on one of your instagram posts. It makes you feel giddy, that you have a shared secret.

Even more when he gives you a small knowing smile across the table while your father is non stop talking about the new model the company is about to release.

It’s a small dinner to celebrate Jaehyun’s birthday, or at least as small it can be in a restaurant like this, where the waiter will look you up and down if you are not wearing your prettiest silk dress and stiletto heels.

The whole thing had been rescheduled twice, because of busy schedules and whatnot, and now that both your parents had been able to fly here, you all sit underneath lowlights and drink expensive wine that is accompanied by a conversation that is so boring that you have trouble keeping up with it.

He finds you on the rooftop, hair blowing a little as he walks to you and in the back of your mind you think it’s a crime that he looks this good in a suit. That’s probably all the wine you had talking.

“Sorry I left you alone there.” You mutter with a sympathetic smile thrown his way when he reaches you, but you both know you are not sorry at all for escaping the stupid conversation your parents were having.

He chuckles. “You leaving was just a reason for me to escape too.”

The two of you turn to look at the city, the illuminated buildings looking minuscule from here but the tiny lights from each of them make for a breathtaking view. Jaehyun stands so close to you that your arms touch. You don’t mind.

“Looking at the city like that makes me feel really small.” You whisper, without really thinking.

“That’s because we are.” You hear his voice clearly, warm like honey and you don’t try to help the smile that forms in your lips.

“How do you do it?” The question makes him look at you, raising one eyebrow. “I mean, you always sound like you got it all figured out. While I just say the most random stuff because I don’t know who I am.”

You know you are the heritage left to you, the face of your father's company, a good student, smart. One of the few socialites that have never stepped a foot out of line, according to the magazines. But take all that and what’s left?

“I don't.” He says simply, “I’m just good at pretending, like you are.”

That makes you laugh. “Good to know we are both good at playing our roles.” You say, as a joke, because you are sure the two of you are beyond the acting now.

And It’s always funny to you how the masks the both of you put on fall completely when you are alone. That’s what it means to be friends, you had realized, and that’s what you decide to call your relationship for now. Friends, from a long time, that happened to be tied together for other reasons.

And Jaehyun is a friend that sometimes makes you feel like you deserve the love you crave.

“Hey. You are ____.” He says after a second, for good measure. “That's enough, you don't have to be anything else.”

“Is it enough for you?” You ask without really thinking.

He smiles, dimples showing and your heart grows warmer. “Yeah, and we can figure it out together. Who we are and all that.”

You share a smile, both staring forward at the view and shivering a little from the night wind.

“I’m sorry for getting you into these deep conversations.”

He laughs deeply at that, with his whole body. “It’s good, don’t worry. I want you to trust me, even if you won't let me get to know you.” And you do, you want to desperately trust him and let him in. ”Because you are scared I can't handle your daddy issues or something.”

A scoff mixed with laughter leaves your lips. It’s been a long time since you were able to joke about this with someone. “It’s mommy issues, please get it right.”

He turns to you with a silly smile on his lips. “Is it because she made you take those piano classes?” He jokes and you laugh before tilting your head.

“Wait, how did you know I played the piano?” That was ages ago, finally a hobby that you enjoyed amongst the numerous other classes your mother had enrolled you in. You played it for a long time before you stopped completely for whatever reason.

“You told me, when we had to introduce ourselves and talk about things we liked in german class.” He explains. “You said you liked it, even though your mother forced you to go.”

You turn to him now as it strikes you that Jung Jaehyun remembered you from his childhood the same way you remembered him. Not the same things, but still memories. The thought is so comforting that you can’t hold the way your cheeks move up in a smile.

“What about you?” You question. “What things did you say you liked?”

“Hmm, I don't really remember.” Is what he says with a shrug.

You two share a look, perhaps meaningful but maybe that's the wine making you feel on cloud 9 under his gaze. “What do you like now?”

He chuckles as if your interest is amusing. “I like… music, getting coffee with friends. That kind of thing.”

“Not cars?” You joke, making him laugh. You decide then that you like making him do it.

“I mean, a little.” He replies playfully, and it’s very easy to be comfortable like this.

It’s good to know after all this time Jaehyun was like you, even if you felt alone in the world sometimes. That’s what a soulmate must be after all, not the missing piece to make you whole but someone that makes you realize exactly that you don't have to be.

“We should get coffee together sometime.” You offer after some time, a gentle smile being shared between you two in laziness, at the thought of soon having to return to the restaurant and popping out of the bubble you have started creating for yourself.

“We should.” He says, and the bubble stays afloat a little longer.

⋄

JULY 2019

It’s another charity Gala, with sparkly lights, champagne, fake smiles and a dress too tight. Everything is the way it always had been, except for you.

And Jaehyun, whose hand stays on your waist as he guides you through a slow song. He had wanted to dance, said he always thought it was nice when lovers did it in movies.

Lovers. The mere use of the word had made your heart somersault in your chest, but you kept it down. Instead, you move with him with soft smiles adorning both of your faces.

Your hand finds his cheeks. Nothing could describe the look you give him in the light but pure admiration. And you don’t care if anyone sees it, you don’t care if it ends up in a magazine spread. Because even if everybody knew about it, this is yours.

The way he brings his hand on top of yours, and how his eyes match the exact look on yours. Every little detail about it makes you know that this right here belongs to the two of you and nothing can change it.

“Jaehyun?” Your voice is low, almost inaudible underneath the music and conversation echoing through the ballroom. “I don't want to be here anymore.”

His eyebrows raise at your confession, steps faltering for a second as he loses the rhythm “What? We can leave right now if you want.” He offers. “I came with my own car, so we can-“

Your soft laughter interrupts his words. “No, I don't mean right now.” You explain, swallowing around your next words. “I meant.. I don't want to keep playing a role, I want to go somewhere with you where no one knows us.”

A smile grows on his lips, one that tells you that he understands exactly what you mean. And you don’t have to guess anymore, there are no more maybes. You know.

“Okay, we can do that.”

He pulls you closer, dance now long forgotten as you just move in complete muscle memory.

“I want to find out.” You confess in a whisper. A secret between the two of you that no one else would ever know. “I want to go somewhere with you and find out.”

You wonder if he already found the answer to it, to what love is. But you also don't need to know right now, because you will know when you have to. Either way you want to find out and it's not for you to guess.

He smiles genuinely at you, with his dimples showing, like he always smiles at you.

You smile back, heart aching from something that can only be only be explained by years of shared stories, and in your mind, deeper connections that go beyond what everything and everyone inside this ballroom would understand.

You smile back, in the exact way you have always smiled at him.

⋄

APRIL 2020

A ray of sun peeks from the half closed curtains and set right above your eyes, getting you to wake up lazily and slowly. It takes you a while to come to it, the sheets on the bed just now starting to feel truly familiar with the warmth left on the bed, from someone that had probably gotten up just a little before from you.

You blink once and twice before your eyes are completely open, vision still unfocused but it slowly comes back as you stare at the bedside table. A lip balm is the first thing you see, then your phone and lastly a picture framed of you and Jaehyun hugging in front of the sunflower field at the Van Gogh museum. He’s laughing, at something said by the kind fellow tourist that had offered to take your picture, and you have the beginning of a smile on your own lips. One that you mimic perfectly now as you remember that day.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the door opening and Jaehyun walks in the bedroom, holding a bowl. His eyes are still drowsy and his hair a mess but you think he looks right at home. Because he is.

“Morning, baby.” His voice is low and raspy, but enough to make you melt even more on the sheets.

“Good morning.” The smile settles fully on your lips now.

He sits on the bed next to you then, almost drowning inside his large t-shirt and hair plopping cutely when he tries moving even closer to place the bowl with sliced fruits on your lap. “We gotta add apples to the shopping list.” Is all he says and you nod while picking a slice of melon and chewing it leisurely as you bask on the hazy feeling of still being half asleep

Jaehyun stays by your side, head weirdly pressed to your chest, and asking silently for you to feed him apple slices every now and then with just his mouth opening.

Your mind wanders as you eat and then you’re having one of those moments where realization dawns on you finally. A silly small thing that makes you smile and your chest grow warm. “Jaehyun?” You call out softly, fighting back the bubble of happiness that forms on your chest because old habits are hard to die.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, eyes blinking at you in the same way he always does, but this time it makes you want to cry a little bit.

You lean down, press a quick peck to his lips that make you both smile and then the words are out of your mouth.

“This is what love is.”

#here she is!#cant wait to hear what you guys think about it #works #commission #neowritingsnet #nct smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenario

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years

Text

A Hero (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay so shinsou is such a cool character, kinda relatable tbh, so here we go. Friends to lovers, lots of fluff, cuteness. It took a lot of strength to take a break from writing my fav bakugo lol.

tw: you almost get assaulted

word count: 4400

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

So technically, Y/N wasn’t related to the Bakugos at all. She was the orphaned child of a family friend, who died a horrific hero’s death when she was only a couple years old. Without any other relatives in the area to adopt her, Y/N’s mother’s best friend took in the two year old, despite the trouble of raising two toddlers being quite daunting. Yet, her quirk wasn’t very dangerous nor special like Katsuki, so she wasn’t hard to manage in that area. Just a shy little girl, confused at the transition after the loss of her parents.

Y/N was never very strong willed like her new family. She was passive, the perfect representation of type B personality. Dependent, reliant, and fearful of adversity. The only reason she was never mercilessly bullied in her primary days was a result of her “brother’s” unrelenting defensiveness. He was an asshole, very much so, but he never let anyone pick fun at the girl. Not only did he kinda, sorta love her unconditionally as a silbing should, but his mother would murder him for not standing up for her.

But when they both got into U.A, suddenly the two weren’t equals anymore, nor would he always be by her side to watch out for her. Y/N was left behind in class C, while he soared into the top hero course. Y/N was support for the soon-to-be pros, not that she minded. The girl knew how weak she was, and unless she had a change of heart and decided to work harder on her quirk, she would never be able to succeed. She wasn’t motivated like those in Class A. Y/N never wanted the responsibility of being so good people relied on her, civilians putting all their faith into her. It was nerve wracking.

On the first day of class, Y/n said goodbye to her parents and walked to class with her brother. He carried both their bags, one on each shoulder, eyes staring straight ahead, brows furrowed with irritation as per usual. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, wandering slowly next to him, head hung.

She was scared, admittedly. This school was huge and so prestigious. How could she ever compare to the others there? It was impossible.

“Stop being such a baby.”

“Katsuki-”

“You’re gonna be fine, and you know it. You’re more powerful than those losers anyway, if only you tried,” he grunted, turning the corner to see dozens of other students in their uniforms walking around and entering the school. She bit her lip and sighed, wringing her fingers out of nervousness. “Seriously, don’t make yourself out to be a weakling. People will target you if you do.”

She paused, not taking another step as she confessed, “I know what I should do, it’s just putting that ideal into practice that gets me everytime.”

Time was running close to class starting, and he rolled his eyes down to her slightly quivering form. Handing her her bag, he told her calmly, “Listen, if anyone bothers you, I’m two doors down anyway. Just call me right after class if something happens, got it?” With a nod, he patted her on the head and walked away to the main entrance.

Her eyes drew up the high building, taking in all the shiny windows and the huge shape of an H made out of the numerous floors. This place was bigger than she had ever imagined, and that only scared her more. Yeah, it was bigger because it housed a lot of students who needed room to exercise their quirks, plus they were a very wealthy institution.

She had to tell herself that just because the building was scary certainly did not mean that the people inside were just as bad.

So she held her head a bit higher and walked through the crowds of students. She tried to remember where the counselor told her her classroom was, so she didn’t embarrass herself by getting lost on her first day.

Yet, that was exactly what she did. The school was just too big, and she was too anxious about her first day to think properly. So, with tears gathering in her eyes, she watched at the time ticked by on the clock. Her nightmares were filled with this scenario. Showing up late on her first day and everyone in the class laughing at her.

“Are you lost?” a voice deep and smooth spoke up behind her, and she jumped a couple inches in the air, placing a hand over her heart after it started to rapidly beat with shock.

She turned her head, brushing her loose hairs from her eyes. He stared down at her with an almost bored expression, just as his voice had sounded. He was tall, and very purple. Dark undereyes, wild violet hair in every direction. She didn’t really know what to think of him other than he was unique, dare she even say attractive in a strange way. He looked older than her, probably 16 or 17 even, based off his height and old soul aura he radiated. One thing she did notice about him though, was he felt gentle, passive and even a bit dismissive. It wasn’t the least bit intimidating, and she relaxed.

“Yeah…” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems we’re in the same boat.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Class 1-C,” he hummed, beginning to walk forward again. She told him meekly that she was going to the same class, and he raised a brow. “Really? What’s your quirk?”

“My quirk is kinda lame.”

A small smile crept at the edge of his lip, her embarrassment and shy attitude amusing him. “And what would that be?”

“Well, it’s kinda weird so don’t make fun of it. I can um- well, my blood is highly basic and burns any skin issue it touches,” the girl mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her cheeks burned so much she felt like she had a fever. This is why she never liked to talk about her quirk. It was just plain absurd and kinda disgusting. Every time she used her quirk she had to slice her skin and sprinkle blood everywhere. “But, like, it does so much damage to me to lose blood that often I can rarely use my quirk.”

He nodded. “That’s definitely strange, you’re right,” he stated bluntly, and her heart stopped beating for a moment. “But useful. Really don’t know why you’d be embarrassed about it. Just because you don’t have endurance doesn’t mean strategy and technique can’t make up for that.”

Y/N caught up to him, walking at his side now although his strides were longer and harder to keep up with. She looked up to him, feeling a bit at ease seeing as he wasn’t rude about her quirk. “What’s your quirk?”

He didn’t miss a beat, his gruff voice sounding bitter and angry with his next words, “Something I’d rather not talk about. Don’t want you to spread rumors and lies about me.”

She had never heard someone so visceral about their own quirk. It couldn’t be that terrible, not to mention she wasn’t rude like the people he must have encountered before. She felt a pang in her chest, knowing that this reaction was no doubt from prior experience being hurt.

With a short shake of her head, she replied, “It’s okay, if you don’t tell me, but I wouldn’t judge you for your quirk, and definitely not gossip about it. I don’t have the social skills to do that kind of thing.” She laughed awkwardly. The bell rang overhead, signalling the beginning of the first period. They were officially late. “Oh, crap. We better hurry.”

“For what? We’re already late, doesn’t matter if it’s by a minute or ten.”

“I-I don’t know about that one.”

As they entered the stairwell to head up the stairs, he turned to her and paused, staring into her eyes deeply. She blinked, seeing so much purple looking in her direction. Quickly, she averted her gaze, and tucked her hands behind her back out of nervous habit.

“I’ll tell you about my quirk if you promise me one thing.”

She opened her mouth to agree but then shook her head. Don’t just make promises to strangers, Y/N, so stupid. “Um, depends on the promise.”

He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of her own averted ones. Waves of pain radiated from his form, hitting her square in the chest. “Just don’t call me a monster or shit like that.” And that was the moment she felt her entire heart crumble in her chest for this boy she had just met. He expected her to think of him like a monster for something as silly as his quirk? She wanted to cry for him, being as sensitive as she was.

“I promise.”

He started walking up the stairs again, done with his intense observation of her face, except it felt to her like he was examining a portion of her soul, her compassion. It seems he saw something he liked in her.

“My quirk is brainwashing, or mind control, if you want to call it that.”

Her eyes widened at the words, not believing that someone so powerful was right beside her, in the same class as her even. “Like, what do you do?’

“If a person verbally responds to me, I then have complete control over anything they do.”

“That is so sick,” she whispered under her breath, but he still heard her. His brows quirked up, and he gazed down at her.”Sorry, I just think that’s a really amazing quirk.” She smiled sheepishly, her eyes reaching his. He almost had to look away once he saw the sparkle of excitement and admiration in her gaze. Those emotions were directed towards him…

As they walked past a classroom, a loud voice called from inside the room. “Bakugo Y/N and Shinsou Hitoshi. I believe you’re late to my class.”

She rushed into the classroom in front of him and he followed. They conveniently were directed to the back of the classroom, two seats directly next to each other. She took a seat in hers and he slumped down in his, rolling his eyes at the glare the teacher had given him.

He looked over at the girl beside him, who he now knew as Bakugo Y/N. She peeked over at him, and a small smile grew on her soft lips, the bit of sparkle still present in her gaze towards him. He smothered down the urge to smile back, just lifted the corner of his lip in return.

Shinsou wasn’t exactly interested in making friends. He didn’t need them. This girl, though, he wouldn’t mind if she stuck around.

______________________________________

“So, uh, Y/N, do you need someone to walk you home?” Shinsou asked as they shuffled out of the nearly empty classroom save for a few stragglers. “Not that you aren’t capable of walking yourself home, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine. And actually someone already walks home with me, so no.”

He cringed, feeling awkward now. He shouldn’t have been so forward with this impending friendship. They had just met, she probably didn’t want some weirdo knowing where she lived either. “Oh, gotcha.”

“In fact, there he is,” she smiled, waving to a particularly angry blond walking down the hall with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sagging pants. Shinsou cringed even harder at this point, not expecting her to already have a guy walking her home. She probably didn’t have much room for another good guy friend in her life, he thought, obviously overthinking things. “Katsuki! How was class?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Deku made a fool of himself as usual, but it wasn’t awful,” the boy replied as his eyes slid from his sister to the daunting guy beside her. “Who’s this?”

“This is my new friend, Shinsou. He helped me find the classroom this morning since we’re in the same class.” Katsuki blinked in surprise, definitely not expecting his shy little sister to already have made a friend. It took her years of middle school just to have a few close acquaintances.

“I gotta get going. My mom is expecting me home soon,” Shinsou told the girl, even if he was lying. He could go home at any time he wanted, he just didn’t want to feel awkward anymore. This guy was obviously close to her, and was giving him the evil eye for a minute now. Possessive much?

“Wait, before you go, let me introduce you to my brother.”

“Brother?’ he asked aloud. They didn’t look alike, like, at all. Nor did their personalities seem to resemble each other in any way.

“This is my brother Katsuki. He’s a class 1-A hot shot.” A pang of relief turned his stomach.

“Yeah, uh, nice to meet you.”

The blond rolled his eyes, gruffly brushing off the purple haired boy’s greeting.“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Y/N, are you ready to go?”

Y/N sighed, waving softly to Shinsou, a smile ever present on her lips when she looked at him. She mouthed as she walked away, ‘sorry’, and he just waved.

Maybe he was a creep for watching her as she left, waiting for her to turn a corner before he let out a breath of air. All he knew was that he felt as if he was sucked in a trance. His heart felt heavy in his chest, as if it were about to explode. The feelings were so foreign but pleasant, some of the best he had ever experienced.

It just felt so good to see someone’s warm smile directed at him, not an ounce of malice behind a guise.

Yeah…He really, really liked her.

_____________________________

The pair were friends. Honestly, Y/N was the only person you could get him to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that she was his friend. They trained together, and he assisted her a lot with her quirk. There were times when they were training alone and she lost too much blood that she would pass out and he would carry her to the infirmary. Time and time again though, teachers told him in private to monitor her. It was unhealthy to constantly lose pints of blood, and she wouldn’t be able to do it on the daily even if she wanted to. Since he and her brother were the only people she truly listened to and appreciated advice from, Shinsou recognized it as a sort of duty to take care of her.

Yet, with a bit more encouragement at the new school from dozens of teachers and other students, she actually improved on her quirk quite a lot. It wasn’t as if she had a useless quirk; it was very powerful in fact. She could burn directly through someone’s skin and the bone if enough blood was spilled. Therefore, the quirk could only be exercised in moderation.

For the first time in his life, someone actually trusted him. Not once did he consider using his quirk on her. Not only was she perfect on her own, but if he betrayed her trust like that, he might lose his closest friend. She was kind, but he wasn’t sure where her limits lied.

“Are you sure you’re okay walking home alone?” he asked his friend, who sat beside him packing up her books. Katsuki was out for the day with the flu, so she would be walking back home alone. He was kinda worried about her. She never walked by herself, always having the protection of her brother.

But she was a strong girl. There was nothing to worry about. He had seen her fight and she was definitely capable. It was just overthinking that sent his anxiety through the roof.

“Yes, I’m totally fine,” she laughed, finding his concern humorous. “You live in the opposite direction. I’m not gonna make you walk me 20 blocks out of your way.”

Although he nodded in understanding, he definitely did not agree. He would walk all over the city for her if she needed him to. Still, when it came time to part ways on the sidewalk, they waved and went in opposite directions. It was only after five excruciatingly long minutes that the lanky boy turned and started walking in the direction of her home. Even though he shouldn’t have, and easily could have texted her, he wanted to make sure she made it home. He knew the general direction of her house, and if he walked moderately fast, he could catch up to her.

So what if she didn’t want him walking an extra 30 minutes? If that made her annoyed, so be it.

Y/N walked slowly down the street as she usually did, her feet tapping lightly against the sidewalk. If she were being honest, she was a bit disappointed in herself for refusing Shinsou’s offer to walk her home. They would have a lot more time to talk in person before the weekend, and she never wanted to miss a beat with him.

Maybe it was stupid of her to be so attached but she thought of him as her best friend, practically the only true one she ever had. Dozens of people came and went from her life, but this friendship felt so special. It would last a long time she thought, and hopefully she was right.

Unfortunately, she was too lost in her own dreamy thoughts to notice someone standing right at the edge of the alley she walked by in a particularly deserted area of town. A hand reached and snatched up her arm swiftly, yanking her into the darkness of the alley and covering her mouth with his other grimey hand before she could make a sound.

Her back hit the cold wall behind her, feeling the rough bricks scratch her shoulder blades through her uniform. Her wrist felt like it was on fire, burning from the harsh grip of the snatcher. Using his knee, he pinned her other hand to the wall at her side, completely immobilizing her. She could have used her quirk, if she was able to produce some sort of blood-pouring injury, only she was trapped.

“Don’t fucking scream, you hear me?”

He removed his hand from her mouth for a moment to reach for his pocket, and as he did so, she let out the loudest scream she possibly could. Just as the sound came from her mouth, a cold object pressed against her throat and her heart stopped beating in her chest from sheer terror.

To think she was a hero in training at U.A., and she couldn’t even defend herself from a quirkless criminal on the street. She felt like crying, feeling a knife against her throat, wrists held down. If only she was just a little smarter or a little stronger; anything to get her out his mess. The air was tense and heavy, and she could barely get a breath in without feeling the bitterness of the blade against her skin.

She prayed, closing her eyes and letting the hot tears drip down her cheeks. If only someone would come and help. All Might was always there to help people, wasn’t he? Where was he? She couldn’t hope for her brother to back her up as he was sick at home, and she definitely couldn’t text Shinsou to come get her. Her phone was tucked safely in her backpack where she couldn’t dream of reaching.

God, she was hopeless.

The thug opened his mouth to say something else no doubt cruel or vulgar, but just as the first syllable fell from his chapped lips, a shocked voice echoed down the alleyway.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes widened at the voice, relief running throughout her entire body.

“Dumb punk, kid, just run off now.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to mess with-”

That reply was all it took for Shinsou to take control. The thug felt all control of his body lost in the air and a sort of tenseness to take over. “Drop the knife,” the student commanded, and the man indeed dropped the rusty knife to the ground, a metallic clang rang out in the darkness. “Now back away.” And so he did.

Tha man sputtered, not knowing what was happening to his body or why he was doing these things. His face turned a bright shade of red and he threw a dirty glare at Shinsou Hitoshi, hating him with every sense of the word for making him look this pathetic.

“Now stand still right there like the piece of shit you are. Move, and I will kill you,” he said calmly. Before turning to Y/N. “I’ll be right back with someone to help. I saw an officer go into the coffee shop across the street.”

When he left, she inched away from the man, watching as he couldn’t do more than just stand there and look completely bewildered. A mind control quirk definitely wasn’t something you see everyday. Plus, he probably was facing the realization that he would be arrested and sent to jail to get his ass kicked by quirk users there.

He came back with a couple officers and pointed out the situation, explaining what he saw when he came to the alley. They asked Y/N for a quick statement and she just reaffirmed what Shinsou had told them and added how she was walking home alone and he grabbed her when no one was looking. And so they took him away, thanking the kids for helping catch the guy, who apparently had tried to assault and rob other women in the area recently.

That was a close call, the closest one she’d ever encountered actually.

As they exited the alleyway, she felt sick to her stomach from what had happened, stress filling up her chest and threatening to burst out in the form of tears, only she composed herself the best she could to be strong. There really was no need to be strong. Shinsou was her friend. He was kind and brave and very intelligent, but most importantly he was kind to her. If she cried, he wouldn’t shame her. But she still felt the pressure to keep them from falling. “Shinsou-”

“I’m so glad I turned around to follow you. I swear, it’s almost like I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it,” he mumbled more to himself than her, really. He looked down at her finally, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. She looked terribly shaken up, but no tears were falling. “Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you or anything?”

“No, nothing else happened,” she told him. “I-I can’t believe you came to save me. I’m so grateful, I don’t even know what to say. I felt so helpless back there without my quirk at disposal.”

“It’s okay. It’s over now, and you’re alright. That’s all I could really hope for.” He looked down the street and then back to her, flashing a weak grin. “You wouldn’t mind if I walked you home from here, would you?” he asked, to which she silently shook her head. So, he began walking and she followed very closely behind, so close that he could feel her arm brushing against his. He figured she was scared enough, a little bit of friendly comfort was going to help her out. She obviously didn’t want to speak, too shocked to say anything much.

After a minute or two of walking, he felt her hand slip its way sneakily into his own, tightly grabbing on as if he was going to yank it away from her. Although he could feel how shaky her hand was, it was so warm and soft against his cold and rough hands. Her fingers fit perfectly between his own. It was sappy of him to think, but jeez, it felt like those hands were meant to interlock. It just felt so fucking good.

He shoved down those selfish feelings. Y/N was just attacked, and he was thinking about how he felt. He shook his head subconsciously, knowing that he was being rude. She was holding his hand because she desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable, not because it necessarily felt nice. She would probably hold the hand of any random dude that saved her like that. Jesus, Shinsou, so dumb. Get a damn grip, you sap.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but he hoped he was helping.

Her house was relatively close to the spot she was grabbed, so it was a short walk. Part of him wished it had been longer so he could have spent more time with her hand held in his. As they stopped at her doorstep, she dropped his hand and went to grab the strap of her bookbag anxiously, eyes hidden from his view.

“Shinsou, thank you for stepping in back there. I really can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate that.”

With a wave of his hand absentmindedly, he brushed off her praise and thanks. “Don’t thank me. Anyone would have done the same, you know.” he didn’t feel like he deserves any thanks. He barely did shit back there except say a few words, and she was thanking him. Anyone would have done the same. He wasn’t special. He wouldn’t be special with the quirk he possessed.

But god, the way she looked at him in that way, adoration and admiration staring into his eyes, completely entranced with him; it made him feel invincible, like he was on top of the world for a lifetime. He would never forget the shine in her beautiful e/c eyes in that moment, he swore it. That was a memory he’d hate to lose.

“I-I know- It’s just that…well…” Her words trailed off into silence before he felt her reach up abruptly to wrap her arms around his shoulders, falling to rest against him. He caught his balance last second, not expecting that of all things. Her head rested snuggly in the meet of his shoulder and neck, hot breath tickling his skin there. He tensed at the sudden embrace, but nevertheless wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He could feel her shaking once again, and her rapid heartbeat pounded against his quickening one.

“Hitoshi,” she whispered, “You are my hero.”

Shivers ran down his spine at those simple five words, laced together by the most angelic voice he’d heard before.

That took his breath right from his lungs. He was her hero. A real hero. That was all he wanted in his life, to show people that he could be someone’s savior. The feeling of the one person he cared for more than anything saying those words to him. The feeling was unbelievable.

She pulled away after a silent moment, and waved to him gently, taking a step up to the entrance of her house. “I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” she said sheepishly, feeling something weird herself after that hug. Her skin felt all warm and gooey, like she was going to fall apart at any moment or her knees would collapse beneath her.

“Y/N, if you need anything, you know you can call me night or day, I don’t care,” he called after her. “I swear, anything for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Shinsou-kun.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

“You’ll call me sometime, right? So I can make sure you’re feeling better?”

“If you want.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I promise I’ll call.”

“Yeah, well, bye then.”

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

She shut the door finally, catching the eye of her brother immediately.

Katsuki stood in the living room of their home, sipping some soup with a spoon, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He raised a brow when she peered over at him, obviously having seen what happened outside through the front window. “What was that about, Y/N? Care to explain why that boy was all over you?”

“Shut up, Katsuki.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes at her reply. “Hey, I’m just worried for you. You can’t trust teenage boys. Take it from me since I am one. ”His voice was quite hoarse from the sore throat he had that morning, and he sounded like a frog whenever he spoke. How could she possibly take him seriously?

“He’s just my friend. You really don’t have to lecture me on anything,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, sure.”

She waved off how annoying he was, and walked down the hall to her room. When she shut the door behind her, she finally felt herself heat up with embarrassment. Shinsou Hitoshi held her hand the whole way home. He saved her like the glorious hero he always wanted to be. The feeling of relief she felt when she heard him enter the alleyway and call for her, it made her heart melt. She would definitely take up his offer and call him over the weekend, just to hear his soothing voice in her ear. Just hearing him, or even thinking about him made a smile grow on her cheeks.

She wasn’t sure what she felt for him. If it was simply a friendship or if her attachments were growing into something more.

Y/N just really, really liked him.

_____________

Part two coming later this week. Should it be angst or fluff? I’m torn

#bnha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha oneshot #bnha imagines #mha imagine #mha oneshot #shinsou oneshot #shinsou hitoshi x you #reader insert #x reader

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batboyimagines · 4 years

Text

Neon lights PART THREE [Tim Drake x Male Reader]

Reading the first two parts isn’t required, but you may want the context!

That client you’ve been working for, the one that’s been keeping you both busy and afloat with their seemingly endless cash? Yeah, you figured out who that was.

Black Mask. Black. Fucking. Mask.

Now, that alone is alarming. Black Mask is one hell of a name in the underbelly of Gotham. He’s big, controls so much of the city that he can own an entire building legally. Even with the endless list of crimes to his name. It’s a pretty ritzy building too, from what little you’ve seen of it.

But that name doesn’t faze you because it’s big. You’ve gotten big names after you before, you’ve been at this gig for a while.

No, the name Black Mask makes your blood boil for one reason and one reason alone.

His gang had screwed your life over, majorly.

Once upon a time, even the very talented thief Nightlight was a normal, plucky kid. Sure, you still had trouble relating and connecting with others, but you might’ve been able to fix that! Had you had the chance.

Black Mask’s people had infiltrated your neighborhood and were starting to convince kids to do their dirty work. Kids couldn’t be arrested as easily, not even in a near lawless city like Gotham.

The few people you associated yourself with, you hesitate to call them friends, had wanted to pick up some of the tasks the goons were offering. For the extra cash, it was a pretty poor neighborhood after all.

Not wanting to be left behind, you had gone along with it. One thing led to another, and eventually you were a preteen handling highly dangerous equipment that could kill a grown man.

One piece of equipment in particular got you. You weren’t born with your powers, there’s no one else in your family that can do what you can. Though, you wouldn’t know, you and your family aren’t on speaking terms. For reasons entirely unrelated to your profession, surprisingly.

You had tripped down a flight of stairs and dropped the damn thing, you tried to catch yourself with your hands and ended up smashing the thing under your chest and it had exploded. You totally should have died. But thankfully, someone had called an ambulance just in time and you survived.

The medical bills almost made you wish you didn’t. Life saving surgeries aren’t cheap. You were almost drowning in the debt, it was only recently you’ve been able to pay it off. That’s why you picked up thievery, you would’ve never been able to scrounge up the cash to pay it all working at a coffee shop alone.

Why were you thinking of your tragic backstory? Oh yeah, Black Mask. Yeah, you’re pissed that you’ve been a cog in one of his stupid plans. Again.

So, you’ve decided to pull a hero and foil the douche’s evil plans.

After a lot of searching and eavesdropping, you’ve finally come across one of his hideouts. The plan is to totally trash the place, in hopes it might do... something. Man, you’re not a plan guy. You just want to do something, even if it’s stupid and more petty than anything.

You’re just about to drop in and get to vandalizing when a flash of familiar red stops you in your tracks.

From the roof across you, Red Robin settles down to scope out the place, just like how you were doing. He must have caught onto Black Mask’s plans. Smartie bird, you think to yourself, just a little fond.

Hang on, you may not be a plan guy but Red totally is. You’ve seen the ridiculous stunts he’s pulled, he’s brought down far crazier schemes than Black Mask’s like houses of cards. If you really want to make a dent on Black Mask, Red’s 100% capable.

Mind made up, you sneak your way behind Red. Man, it’s fun to finally be the one to sneak up on him. Red always gets the drop on you.

A short distance behind him, you wait. He’s still staring down at the building below, but he’s had to have noticed you by now, right? He’s probably just waiting for you to announce yourself. You cough into your fist.

He whips around, nearly toppling over the edge of the roof, and flings a couple of birdarangs in your general direction. You strangle the vile curses in your throat and throw yourself to the ground to dodge.

“What are you doing here?!” He hisses under his breath, hand going for his bo staff.

“What you’re doing, I think!” You shout under your breath. “You’re here to take down Black Mask right?!”

“Why would you want to take down Black Mask, you’ve been working for him!” He accuses.

“My clients are usually anonymous, I didn’t know! Can I come over there so we don’t have to keep whispering like this?!” You ask, pushing yourself to your hands and knees.

Red thins his lips, think for a moment. He gestures you over sharply.

You hop your feet and stride to his side. You kneel at the edge of the roof beside him, a foot and a half away. There’s tense silence.

Even if you did know how to plan, you honestly do want to work with Red. Maybe you’re unhealthily attached to functionally a stranger but you like him a lot.

“... sorry about your bike.” You say.

“Huh?”

“Your bike, I’m sorry for painting it. I didn’t think it would bother you that much.” Red lowers his binoculars, furrowing his brow. He inclines his head towards you. Then his face softens a little.

“Thanks,” he says. Oh wow. He sounds really nice when he’s not riled up.

“Yeah,” you say. And when he looks away, you inch closer to him.

“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks quietly.

“Just like I said, my clients are anonymous half the time. I was getting paid a lot Red, I didn’t look into it much. I only figured it out a few days ago.”

“I’m surprised that you’re interested in taking him down. You’ve worked for people worse than him, why’s he the one you draw the line at?”

“He’s a big part of my villain origin story. And who do you mean? Who’ve I worked for that’s worse than him?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.

“Uh, the League of Shadows ring any bells?” He asks, unimpressed. Your eyebrows nearly fly off your forehead.

“The League of Shadows?! When’d I work for them?”

“That time in Gotham harbor, with the cloud seeder.” What’s a cloud seeder? You mouth to yourself. Then it hits you and you have to bite back laughter.

“Oh my god, is that the time you hit that weird old guy where the sun don’t shine?”

“Nightlight, that weird old guy was Ra’s Al Ghul.” He says, almost amused. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

“You kicked Ra’s Al Ghul in the balls?!” He nods, grinning. “Dude, that’s awesome!”

“It was pretty awesome.” He admits. He pushes himself to his feet and looks down at you. “So I guess we’re working together.”

“What? Really?” You ask in surprise, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.” He fiddles with some gizmo on his wrist. “You could be useful.”

“Sweet!” You say. He looks at you inquisitively.

“Why do you want to help me? Besides our common goal of screwing over Black Mask,” you snort, “wouldn’t you want to work alone?”

“I mean, I would, but I’m terrible at planning or setting end goals. That’s why I take clients and stuff, they decide what I steal so I don’t have to.”

“So you’re indecisive.”

“Basically.”

“Alright, works for me,” he says as he walks across the roof, “I can be bossy.”

“I noticed.” You snicker a little as you follow him.

“Did you.”

#Batman #Tim Drake #X Reader #X Male Reader #Tim Drake X Reader #Tim Drake X Male Reader

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straight-into-the-animus · 4 years

Text

Sucker For You (Jacob Frye x F!Reader)

This was for anon, who requested for the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge something inspired by the song Sucker by the Jonas Brothers with Jacob Frye x Female Reader. I’m so sorry it took so long anon, personal work got in the way and I’m still somewhat battling a bit of illness, I felt so bad leaving you hanging, but I hope you enjoy! I really had a lot of fun doing this!

Warnings: None

Crawley was a little place, in comparison to the monster that was London. The population was comparable to a drop in a pisspot, vibrating and palpable in every crack and crevice, every step you took. Everything and everyone was alive, and Jacob relished in it, felt himself come alive in return to absorb it like a sponge and give it all back tenfold.

And some of those people, on some nights, just made it all better.

Jacob noticed and made note of most every Rook that came along, but her… Even just a look in those eyes the first night had told him he met more than he originally thought.

Those were the same eyes that glinted at his across the pub where he finished the last of his drink, but Y/N turned in her stool at the last second to coyly look away from the returning message he sent her. With much more nimble feet than the situation and location seemed to deserve, he joined her on the other side of the bar to engage in their custom song and dance.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Notice what?” The game had started tentatively, but she still was only glancing over her shoulder, not yet fully engaged. “I’ll have you know, Sir, I’m simply enjoying my drink,” she took a pointed sip -- more a gulp, but neither of them were counting -- for emphasis, “and you decided to come and get involved. Not very gentlemanly, if I have to say.”

“And you’re quite the lady, Y/N.”

“Quite.” She smirked, fingers tapping on the pint glass irregularly as he leaned in just enough to brush his lips against her ear.

“How long are you gonna keep this up? I might be a Sir, but you, madam, are no lady.”

Finally she turned around in her stool with a mock offended gasp, putting her pint down to fix him with a look. “I’m owed an apology for my honor.”

“Or what?” He mimicked her pose, and her frown deepened until she suddenly smirked and leaned in to be closer to him, gazing at his face through half hooded eyes.

“Or I might have to call for… drastic measures.”

“And what would those be?” He asked, the part of him that was both Assassin and just very knowledgeable of how these things went giving faint alarm bells in his head that he ignored. He regretted that fact just a second too late when in a snap his hat was off of his head and she was hurrying for the door.

A curse flew out of his lips with the same speed and he slapped some money down on the counter before hurrying after her. A green tailcoat disappeared around the corner and with a decision making process likely too affected by alcohol to be determined sane, he decided to go up and around on the rooftops. He kept an eye on her, allowing instincts to take over on the rooftops for the most part, and couldn’t even find it in himself to be fucking annoyed despite the fact that here he was in the dead of night, with the streetlamps the only guides he had, and he was chasing after his favorite hat in some weird courting ritual.

He couldn’t be annoyed because it worked. And he couldn’t imagine this happening any other way.

He caught his lucky break as Y/N paused to catch her breath near an alleyway of all places -- honestly, he was a little bit worried if this was somehow what he was training his Rooks in now -- and he slid down a pipe to land on the stone with only a bit of a stumble in his step.

“Think I’ll be taking that back now.” He sneaked up behind her and reached around to take the top hat from her grasp, skimming it over for wear and tear. He slicked his hair back and put it back on, even tapping the top of the hat for good measure as she turned and fixed him with a hidden smirk.

“You could’ve just asked.”

“And you didn’t have to steal from me, my lovely lady indeed.” He made to step forward but closed that already small distance, smoothing out the lapels of his coat as if it could make up for the panic and state of his hat-less undress from earlier.

“It’s not as fun then. And maybe I wanted to be chased by you instead of letting the Templars and other Horrible Enemies of London’s Freedom take your attentions for once.”

He huffed a laugh before settling his hands on the sides of her waist under her coat and pulling her just a bit closer in the manner he’d been wanting to the whole night. She had no complaints, hands sliding from his chest to wrap her arms around his neck as they both decided to go further back into the alley for the slightest bit of privacy afforded them both.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Last thing I want is for you to have to resort to such horrible activities again.”

“My hero.” She hummed before leaning in, intent clear and open as he met her halfway and they kissed, savoring but not taking things slow or keeping it chaste. It tasted all manners of sweet and intoxicating, and it was over much too soon in his mind even as she pulled away and smiled up at him. “I’ll forgive you this once.”

“I can make it up more and get you another drink.” Jacob offered, knowing that he had likely paid a little more for that tab than necessary in his haste to leave and more than willing to cash in on it.

She considered for a bit before shaking her head. “Though… Nothing to say we can’t continue this night somewhere else. Maybe… your train?”

Jacob pretended to consider as well before smiling a bit. “That sounds wonderful. Under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“We actually get to walk there. All proper and everything.”

A few giggles made the smile on his face grow before she conceded. “As you request, Sir Frye. I think I owe you this one thing.”

“How kind.” He smirked, and even held out his hand, holding hers tightly when it was grabbed without a moment’s hesitation.

The evening spread in front of them as they left for the train station, though quickly propriety was lost and in the large, winding streets of London, so much bigger than anything Jacob could picture, he found himself running around and getting lost with a woman who made everything else seem so small in comparison.

I hope you enjoyed! This was part of the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge, details/info for how to request your own can be found on the bolded link above. I have a Masterpost here and more unrelated ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day!

#assassin's creed #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #my writings #valentine's day playlist

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babyflossy · 4 years

Text

redamancy | p.js

pairing: jisung x reader

summary: for three years you had crushed on your brother’s best friend, and when you finally tell your brother about it, he can’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

genre/warnings: fluff, unedited, brother!chenle

requested: yep! requests are still open!

word count: 2.5k

maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell your older brother about your enormous crush on his best friend, but in your defense, at the time he seemed trust-worthy. not even three weeks later, however, would you realise just how bad a decision you had made.

it wasn’t that chenle was a bad older brother, in fact, you would argue he was one of the most caring and funny people out there, but he had a habit of never keeping things to himself. you only thought about his massive mouth, however, when you received a text from the devil himself, lee donghyuck.

lee donghyuck was in the year above you in highschool, along with your brother, his adorable best friend jisung, and their shared group of friends. being nearly the youngest in your year group as it is, most of them were nearly two years older than. this, by their logic, made it the perfect thing to tease you about.

looking down at your phone, you nearly choked on your water when you read the message, coughing to try an regain your breathing. the teacher in the front of the class stopped momentarily at the loud noise but continued when you offered a forced smile through your hacking. as soon as her back was turned, you furiously unlocked your phone, ready to give your brother a long, angry text message.

haechan unnie: i know you have a bad taste in men, but jisung? really? 0/10 from me

you ignored hyuck and instead clicked onto your brother’s contact, typing rapidly in chinese to at least keep some form of privacy. if donghyuck knew, there was a high chance the rest of his godforsaken friends would know as well, meaning there would also be a chance that jisung already knew. the thought made you feel sick.

the crush you harboured for him had been growing exponentially since you moved to highschool over two years ago. back then, jisung had just been chenle's tall awkward friend that didn't know how to talk to girls properly, but he was the definition of cute to you. as the years went on, though, he grew even more, voice dropping to a pleasant even tone that you could listen to all day. but it seemed, to your disappointment, that all the other girls at your highschool had also noticed the change, meaning he was now "one of the popular ones".

as much as you hated to admit it, the thought of jisung with any of the girls from your school made you undeniably jealous. there was nothing you could do to ignore your feelings anymore. jisung was a year older than you, he had girls his own age fawning over him, mature girls that dressed themselves better than you, and the thought of him rejecting you was humilating enough to prevent you from ever telling him how you felt. the years of not spilling your feelings were exhausting, and you thought telling your brother would make you feel better, and it did, for approximately nineteen days. now it just felt uneasy and insecure, knowing his other friends knew.

staring at the clock, you realised with a sickening drop of your stomach that this period was almost over. and lunch was next. the lunch period you shared with chenle and all his friends. the one lunch period you had to sit with them because the entirety of your friend group had extracurriculars or classes, meaning there was no way you could escape seeing them. you thought for a second about spending your lunch period in the art department, but you knew it would look weird to your brother, and he would definitely call you out on it.

when the bell did ring, you packed your bag as slowly as possible, checking your phone to kill time. there were already butterflies in your stomach and seeing jaemin and renjun waiting for you outside your classroom didn't help. they both shot you a smile and started walking towards to cafeteria. up ahead of you, you saw a familiar bleached mop of hair taller than the people around him and decide, actually, sitting in the art department alone would be better than facing any more of chenle's friends right now.

"actually guys, i need to finish something in the art department, tell chenle i hate him," renjun let out a laugh whilst jaemin's eyebrows shot up in surprise and you turned to try and escape them before an arm looped around your shoulders to stop you.

"this wouldn't haven't anything to do with a certain boy named jisung, would it?" donghyuck's teasing smile made your blood run cold and you didn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes. you struggled in his grip for a few moments but he's much stronger than you and so gave up quickly.

"no, what are you talking about?" you tried to keep your voice as neutral as possible, but by way renjun's smile only widened, jaemin joining in, you knew it hadn't worked.

"oh, is this about y/n's little crush on our jisungie?" out of the group, you usually found jaemin the easiest to deal with as he tended to tease you the least, but at his words, you found a new burning hatred for the blue-haired boy.

"shut up, jaemin. i'm going to kill chenle."

renjun seemed to pity you as he took in your expression, noticing the shiny line of tears slowly building in your eyes. "honestly, though, he one hundred per cent like you anyway. you should ask him out." you let out an incredulous laugh at his proposition, which he responded with nothing but an exasperated sigh. "you're both as bad as each other."

"you know i hate renjun being right, but i have to agree here, jisung totally likes you." as he said the words, donghyuck loosened his grip on your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting side hug. it did little to quell the nerves in you.

"that's nice, but i still have to finish something in the art department," your quiet voice was enough to tell the three boys you were lying, but they stopped walking anyway.

"then we'll eat in the art department," jaemin said, and as if he could read your mind, "without the others."

being one of your art teacher's favourite students had it perks, and as she handed you the key before leaving for her lunch break, you reminded yourself to finish your overdue art project in gratitude. the four of you had the room to yourselves, sitting around on the stools around one of the only tables free of paint plates and half-finished canvases.

"now, let's talk about the pressing issue here," donghyuck's voice was void of the teasing tone he usually used when talking to you, "why won't you ask him out."

"he doesn't like me." there was a definitive tone to your voice which made the other three pairs of eyes in the room roll in exasperation.

"he literally does, though." donghyuck.

"you're just in denial." jaemin.

"i can't believe you're both as stupid as each other." renjun.

an affronted frown took over your face as they spoke over each other. you looked down at your hands, trying to decide if you should tell them what was really bothering you. they watched you intently, seeing you had something you wanted to say. when you finally looked up, the tears in your eyes were back and jaemin reached a hand out to smooth over yours. "isn't he too old for me? why would he chose me when there're loads of girls in his own year that like him already?"

"i mean, a year isn't that bad, i think you should talk to him anyway."

after your little heart-to-heart in the art classroom, the bell had rung and you were made to slink off to your penultimate class of the day, ap calculus. despite being the most draining class you had, it was also the only class you shared with jisung. you tried to get inside and into your seat at the back of the room before he noticed, but he perked up as soon as you entered, grabbing your wrist as you slipped past his seat.

"hey, y/n," he started. there was a bright smile on his face and you hated the way it made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks already heating up. "i missed you at lunch, everything okay?" you nodded and he tightened his grip when you tried to move away again. "can i meet you after your last class? there's something i was meaning to talk to you about."

you froze, unable to do or say anything. luckily, your teacher walking in made jisung drop your hand, turning to face the front of the room. in your seat you stared at the wall, panicking. was he going to tell you he wasn't interested? did he already know you liked him? was he gonna say how you made it weird now? what if it was something completely different? when the teacher turned to write on the whiteboard, he faced you, eyebrows raised in question. you simply nodded and smiled weakly. needless, to say, you didn't hear a word the teacher said all lesson.

as you walked from your math classroom you spotted your brother, marching over to him with a furious expression on your face. he laughed when he saw you, pulling you in for a hug you manage to dodge at the last moment. "why the fuck would you tell them about jisung?"

"because you wouldn't listen to me," chenle explained, as if that suddenly makes it okay he leaked your deepest secret to all his friends. "and jisung's starting to annoy me with the staring." your cheeks flamed at his words and you punched his arm, finding satisfaction at the yelp he let out.

"i'll kill you later," you promised as you let the crowd of students propel you to your last class; only one hour left until your meeting with jisung.

chemistry passes quickly when your thoughts are occupied, and you found yourself staring at the clock as the bell rung, unable to believe the lesson was already over. there was nothing to protect you from the inevitable heartbreak coming. maybe you were being dramatic, you reasoned. it could be completely unrelated to your crush on him afterall.

the beating of your heart speeds up as you see the boy in question waiting outside your chemistry lab, leaning against a locker, looking over the crowd of heads for you. his face lights up when he spots you and he pushes through the throngs of people to reach you. "hey, you ready to leave? i was thinking we could go to that new smoothie place?"

you can only nod dumbly in response, letting him sperate the crowds for you to walk through. outside school, it's just you and him, and you worry briefly if he can hear how fast your heartbeat is. the smoothie shop isn't even a ten-minute walk from your school, but you feel on edge the whole walk there, even as jisung asks question after question, prompting conversation. he asks about your art pieces, saying how he loved the ones in your bedroom (you blush at the compliment), he asks about your favourite subjects, about your music taste, even about what you wanted to do after highschool.

relief flooded you as you enter the small shop, saving you from answering any more questions. you glanced around the cute cafe in awe. hanging plants covered nearly every corner of the ceiling, multi-coloured tiles coated the expanse of the walls. there's silence as you both read the menu, trying to decide between the plentiful fruit combinations.

when you had both chosen, a girl ushered you to the counter, taking you orders and writing your names on the cups before telling your total. before you even had a chance to fish your card out of your phone case, jisung had already tapped his phone against the card machine, paying for the both of you.

you looked up in surprise, meeting his sheepish smile with a blushy one of your own. the cafe was busy but the two of you managed to get an empty table to yourselves in the back corner of the shop, only a little sofa for the both of you. as you sat, thighs touching, you swore you had never been so nervous in your life, hands sweating around your smoothie as you sipped it so you wouldn't have to say anything.

eventually, you couldn't take the silence any longer, blurting out, "what did you wanna talk about?" after deciding the sooner her rejected you, the sooner you could home and beat up chenle whilst crying.

"chenle told me you like me," his words were rushed but you caught them easily, your cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. it was humiliating. your crush of three years was about to call you out in the middle of a public cafe. you wondered vaguely if anyone you knew was also here, ready to watch the fateful moment. the next words jisung said were the not ones you were expecting. "and i like you too, so i wanted to tell you." your brain short-circuited and all you could do was sit and stare blankly at the boy in front of you. after a few moments, jisung seemed to take your reaction as rejection and began to back-track, "i'm sorry if that's not what you meant–"

"no, no, no!" you said too quickly, a hand coming to rest on his arm to stop him leaving, even though he hadn't moved. "i do like you."

"oh, that's great then, i guess," jisung sat and studied your features for a bit longer, not convinced, "you don't seem very happy, though."

"i just, uh–" you babbled, trying to find the least embarrassing combination of words to get your point across, "i thought you would, uh–"

"you thought i would what?" he prompted.

"i thought you wouldn't want to date me because i'm younger than you. and because i'm chenle's younger sister," a sigh escaped with your words and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, scared of his reaction.

"oh," he paused, leaning down to meet your eyes when you avoided him. "i've never seen you as chenle's sister, though, you've always just kinda been your own person to me." the sincerity in his words reverberated through your head and you finally met his eyes, "and i'm only a year older than you, but if you think that's too much then we don't have to–"

"no, i don't mind it."

"oh, cool. do you wanna maybe grab dinner after this then? i can drive you home afterwards?" before you could even think, you were nodding.

"i'd love that. i'm still gonna kill chenle for telling you, though."

a/n: i got the mouse out so i finished this in celebration!!

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easyrevenge · 3 years

Text

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die.

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner.

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina.

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her.

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money.

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.”

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?”

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really.

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it.

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend.

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables.

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings.

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence.

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left.

He never should have come into work today.

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope.

Then, he starts to choke.

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink.

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds.

Denki hates Mina. So, so much.

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born.

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by.

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.”

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger. Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence.

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked.

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater.

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment.

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal.

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face. “Oh-kay.”

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised.

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close.

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do.

God, he loves Mina.

#shinkami #kamishin #denki x shinsou #bnha

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hopevalley · 4 years

Text

Season 8, Episode 5: What the Heart Wants

I was going to try to follow my scene-by-scene format for the entire season, but I’ve been getting a lot of migraines recently, presumably from staring at the computer too long, so I don’t want to spend all morning working on typing up the play-by-play for this episode.

Also, for what it’s worth I think this episode lends itself to plot discussion better than some of the previous episodes...at least in some sense.

And as another head’s up, it’s back to being critical for me. ;P

Storylines:

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

The Dress Shop/Rachel

Postal Service, Ned

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Carson and Faith

Henry

Elizabeth and Lucas

Clara’s Dilemma

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

This plot felt a little scattered, but for once it wasn’t the kind of storyline they foisted too much drama upon. After years of every single function possible being besieged by bullshittery, it’s a relief to see one go off without a real hitch.

The beginning scene with Robert hugging Elizabeth was sweet. I enjoyed the Canfields immensely and am intrigued by Angela’s role in the story long-term (PLEASE let her befriend Allie!). Nathan...eh, I have thoughts—but I’ll talk about that a bit soon. The actual ceremony was cute and kind of fun with the kids singing.

Neat Thing I Noticed:

Continuity? Cat Montgomery is still listed as Emily’s mother. ♥♥♥ I don’t know why but this made me really happy???

Complaint Corner:

Parent-teacher conferences should have been in this show from a much earlier point, and so should graduation have been. If there was a point to this celebration (the first year in a while anyone was old enough to graduate) that would have been a nice touch, too. It just managed to feel sliiiightly out of place.

I’ll forgive the “everyone in town goes to the graduation” thing because this is 1918...something like this would be a whole-town affair IMO. Invite everyone and have a nice get-together/party, probably on a Sunday afternoon after church but Hope Valley does whatever it wants, so...eh.

The threat of merging Hope Valley with other schools doesn’t fit in this scenario and it feels like they ripped it directly out of Tales from Avonlea which was almost rage-inducing to me.

Look, school mergers happened a lot in the early 1900s, especially around the WWI mark, but it wouldn’t be hitting a rural western town just yet. They don’t have any way of getting these kids to other towns for schooling. Where would the next closest school be? It would have to be pretty large and modern to merge multiple schools together.

*Adjusts nerd glasses* This felt forced and completely unnecessary. If anything this guy could be telling Elizabeth that they’re working on building a modern school somewhat close by, and could even have her involved in some decision-making regarding layout. Then they could bring in a “merger” storyline next season without it feeling out of place.

It mostly just felt dramatic for the hell of it, and it was boring, as was this man’s threat that Elizabeth had no right to teach a blind student. As if they’d accept Angela at a better school? As if her parents could afford top tier education for her? PLEASE.

Now it’s time for Nathan. The man chose to go fishing instead of to the parent-teacher conference? It makes him look like a tool. This isn’t about him or about Elizabeth; it’s about Allie. I understand why he didn’t want to go, but he should have done it anyway. It would have taken five minutes of his time.

His flippant attitude annoyed me because it went completely against his character as we know it, but Elizabeth’s lecturing was irritating, too. For a moment I thought we had Lorigail back on the show...

I think Elizabeth was well within her rights to warn Nathan about the effect his work has on his ward, but that inquiry took like a week AT MOST. Heck, let’s be generous and say TWO WEEKS. Allie’s concentration suffered for two weeks. There was no need to say more than, “Hey she worries about you and her work suffered for a bit during that time frame, just so you’re aware.”

I think what annoyed me about the math program thing is that...Elizabeth being a teacher would probably be VERY WELL AWARE that MOST of the parents to her students aren’t good enough at schooling to assist their kids with their homework. I dunno, it just feels out of place for her to tell Nathan that she wants to put Allie in an accelerated “program” and that Allie might need his help with her homework. It’s even more out of place when he admits he used to bribe his sister to do his work for him. Like. It’s very possible he’s not that good at math and isn’t capable of helping. (But maybe that will be a plot down the road...?)

“Or a tutor...” BITCH WHERE IS HE GONNA FIND A TUTOR IN THIS TOWN?! It’s super annoying to see dialogue like this that feels completely out of touch with the reality these people would be living in...lol. But also if she needs a tutor to stay caught up in an advanced program, she probably...shouldn’t be in the advanced program.

I don’t know how to feel about this whole thing here: “Nathan, you are Allie’s world. You’re the only father she’s ever known, and as she grows up you will always be the measure of the quality she’ll look for in a man as she chooses who to marry.”

On one hand, it does fit the situation (he seems to think everything is behind him but Elizabeth’s words are kind of a caution that 1) his actions still have an effect on Allie, and 2) every day he’s teaching her by example). On the other hand, it seems almost wildly inappropriate to bring up? At the same time, it’s probably not wrong that Allie will measure other men (friends, acquaintances, potential future romantic interests) against Nathan’s example.

I dunno. The conversation felt disjointed.

I think what they were going for was Nathan just feeling too awkward and weird about being with Elizabeth to want to be there for the conference, but...he interacted with her quite normally after the inquiry and stuff (even after she’d broken things off with him), so...it feels out of place. Like maybe this should have taken place right after the breakup and not weeks later?

Anyone else have thoughts on this and why it doesn’t feel quite right?

The Dress Shop/Rachel

This plot wasn’t what I would call a waste of time (rather, it’s worth having it mentioned now), but part of it was completely pointless and stupid. The whole Rachel getting lost thing was tacked into the promos to stir up drama, but nothing happened and there was nothing worrisome even going on. YAWN.

Rosemary’s desire to do something meaningful and different with her life is super interesting. I’m very curious to see what they decide to do with her if Dottie does sell the dress shop.

Also, Rosemary finding the book under Rachel’s bed was pretty funny.

But yeah, I didn’t really find much in this plotline to care deeply about. I guess I am pretty interested in knowing who might be purchasing the dress shop and/or if this decision is to bring someone else onto the show (a female love interest for the man who doesn’t win Elizabeth’s heart in the end, or even to bring back an old character*) or to take the dress shop out of the equation entirely... It’s also just as possible that Rosemary/Lee or Clara/Jesse end up buying it themselves down the line... Thoughts?

*I can’t begin to imagine who would be the best fit for this in this case, though. Who would have the money to buy her out?

Postal Service, Ned

Ned is just honestly so cute and fun. I love him. He’s really been doing well this season and seeing him wander around town delivering mail door to door was kind of nice.

Also, he’s one SMOOTH operator! Look at him, talking about putting a bell on the door so that he and Florence won’t be caught off-guard if they’re in the middle of...something.

Oh my, Ned. What might customers be...interrupting? :3

Continuity? Not only was the ulcer from last season brought up, but the horrid cabbage juice was, too. :’) It was a nice touch. And these two had just enough screentime to be kind of fun/interesting without also taking up too much time.

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Nathan got his vacation and Bill is in charge...again. This happens an awful lot. I wonder if it’ll actually impact the next few episodes or if it’s just here for the hell of it.

I love Bill a lot and I want to brag up his character in this episode a bit. I’ve complained many times in the past about him being written like a Grumpy Old Man Yelling at Clouds but this episode was super respectful. He got his scene with his uniform. Nobody interrupted it. There weren’t even any words. I quite liked it.

But it also felt kind of...pointless? I don’t want to judge it too harshly yet. Like the dress shop plotline, this could actually be going somewhere in the next couple of episodes.

Plus, unrelated to the uniform, it was nice to see Bill acting fatherly toward Clara. While it sort of came out of nowhere for the wedding, I appreciate the attempt at continuity there. Plus, so far this season, I’ve felt like Bill’s almost been a father-figure to Clara, Fiona, and even Nathan, so I’m enjoying that a lot.

Carson and Faith

CONTINUITY? The show finally remembered that not only is Carson actually a surgeon, but that was his original passion. It’s not that they completely forgot (S5 had him performing surgery on his sister-in-law, after all), but giving Carson a PASSION makes him a way more interesting character to me.

And also, finally, this feels like a REAL high-stakes plotline for him and for Faith.

I really liked Faith’s take on things. I know, I know, I’ve been rooting at them to break up, but the reason is mostly because they’re just so BORING together. I’d rather watch Henry twirl around in a chair for an hour than suffer through date scenes with these two.

It’s not that I’m against a doctor wife/husband team. I’m not. I just think Faith was a much more interesting and cool character on the show before Carson showed up and usurped her place (and completely overshadowed her for literal seasons). This plotline for Carson might actually be interesting. Like, a fellowship? For modern surgery? IN BALTIMORE?!

I hope this is Faith’s way of saying she wants a break and/or a break would be good for them. I can’t picture her leaving Hope Valley without any trained medical staff, let alone long enough for a fellowship...

But if this goes through, what will they do with it? Would they really write Carson off the show? To be perfectly honest with y’all, I’d be fine with that. At least it’s the type of write-off that makes a lot of good sense (unlike some of the other ones we got). I guess this is just another “wait and see” plotline which is uhh...the theme of this episode, huh? Anyone have thoughts on this?

Henry

Henry barely had any screentime, but I do want to say he is #relateable. The man is back at work for ten seconds and already exhausted. SAME.

Also, I appreciate that he’s ready to be back in the oil business. At what cost? I know people were worried they were gonna kill him off, and I really doubted it, but now I’m starting to wonder where they’re going with this exactly. Yet another wait and see moment LOL!

Elizabeth and Lucas

Some damn fine scenes for Lucas and Elizabeth in this episode. Mostly the scenic ones. :P

I enjoyed the agreement to a date. The horseback riding stuff was pretty cute.

Complaint corner? I don’t know. I have petty complaints. Even though the celebration for the kids was a town-wide event, and therefore Lucas was invited, it still felt out of place to see it brought up. Maybe it should have been mentioned as a town celebration from the start?

Then Lucas’s comment about not wanting to make things awkward for Nathan (who is actually a parent and there) makes a liiiittle more sense. I do think it was good of him to not go, even though he wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, but it gave off a weird vibe, like, “Look at how good and wholesome Lucas is!” Is that intentional? I’m not...sure...?

For what it’s worth I already felt like Lucas was an honorable person in this regard. He loaned Nathan money, after all. Maybe he should have told Elizabeth he views Nathan as a friend and doesn’t want to hurt his feelings unnecessarily and/or if he was there he’d want to hog her all to himself or something cheesy. Hm.

My other complaints are:

Elizabeth running to the saloon would be WAY faster than all this getting set up at her house...?? Who thought this made sense?

Elizabeth’s dress looked like a nightie she bought at Kohls.

Too many damn candles.

Characters Do What Plot Dictates Even Though Plot Makes No Sense. More at 11:00!!

I have no further comments on the dress. It needed sleeves or something so it looked more like a dress and not like a nightgown/piece of lingerie.

I think the candles might have been on purpose to parallel Jack...but I hated it lol. Fire hazard? HAVEN’T ENOUGH THINGS IN TOWN BURNED DOWN/EXPLODED?!

I didn’t hate the date scene! But I never feel like Elizabeth has any meaningful conversations with Lucas and it’s starting to drive me batty.

Could we get uhhh something of substance please? It has to be surface-level nonsense on purpose. Right? RIGHT?

(And no, discussing a book for ten seconds on-screen is not “intelligent conversation” okay...?)

It’s really a shame because I’m starting to actually warm up to Lucas a little bit in this season but it feels like the conversations are just...kind of stilted and she’s not really into dating him—just agreeing to it because he’s the only option.

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...he deserves better than that.

Don’t get me wrong, by the way. If it’s part of the story and it’s revealed as such down the road, I’ll be fine with it...but I always worry they’ll just skip important relationship milestones and/or important conversations and expect us all to just accept it.

Kiiiiiind of looking forward to the rainy date scene in the next episode, though. I’m Team Nathan mostly but I’m keeping an open mind and I think I might actually enjoy it. Hopefully they’ll get some good scenes together that don’t feel like this one did.

Clara's Dilemma

Clara’s fears about running the salon without Fiona...are legit. LOL.

Also, this little bit was funny (between Mike and Jesse and Bill):

Anyway, if Clara was that worried about it, she should have just...told Fiona no? I hope it comes up down the road. Poor Molly??

I genuinely don’t know how I feel about Clara and Jesse’s involvement in this episode. I guess it was okay. I liked Clara’s scenes with Bill. I thought the idea of Clara and Jesse buying into the cafe was a nice one. Jesse having “invested” their money and lost it all, though... They did a similar plot with other people in what...Season 5 was it? Or was that the start of S6? He didn’t even say what he invested it in? But he admits the money is all gone?

I think that’s what was missing from that scene. “I invested it in X, hoping to make us more money, but it didn’t work out and we lost everything.”

I’m not going to criticize Jesse’s characterization, only because sometimes character "growth” doesn’t happen for the better of anyone involved. My biggest worry here is that it’ll be solved by the end of next episode....but I hope that’s not it.

Like, I think they did better with Frank and Abigail if we’re going to talk about a man who didn’t know how to live like he was in a committed relationship. It made more sense with Frank, too, being older and single most of his life. His bouts of selfishness felt realistic.

Jesse feels like he’s somehow getting worse and worse as a person as the show goes on. I’m kind of at a point where I hope he and Clara divorce, because he’s so damn selfish it’s embarrassing. He’s off having a beer while his wife works multiple jobs? And then he has the audacity to act like they should save money when he just blew all their savings?

I’m sure it’ll work out fine but I hope Clara puts herself in charge of the finances at the very least.

As to investing failures, I liked how they did that with Henry and Abigail. That was the kind of tension and worry that felt natural to me—like she trusted him with her money after he’d proven himself untrustworthy ten million times throughout the years, and he failed and had to uhh admit that.

Jesse straight up betrayed Clara. Which, if it’s dealt with in a satisfying way...I think can be a good plotline. I just worry about it actually being dealt with properly. That’s a huge stumbling block in a relationship. And why is he continually getting worse as a person? There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

Gasp... it’s almost like it’s just plot because they feel like they have to give someone something every damn episode.

Which brings me to THE FINAL

COMPLAINT CORNER (The Big Boy™ Complaints)

The show has really struggled with finding its footing. I wish they’d take notes from better shows with ensemble casts (cough cough Road to Avonlea cough) without also ripping off their storylines (cough school merges cough).

My #1 complaint at this point in Season 8 is the SHEER AMOUNT OF THINGS GOING ON EVERY EPISODE.

I want continuity, so I want to see things happen naturally over a season, but my God do we not need to have mindless pointless crap in the episode. Rachel getting “lost” for ten seconds wasted literal MINUTES of screen time that would have been MUCH better allocated to basically anyone else in this episode.

And I don’t think it would bother me so much if it wasn’t also shoved into the promo like it was supposed to matter. It didn’t matter. Nobody cares. Why was it allowed to stay in the episode alongside stuff like Clara and Bill’s conversation?

Or Lucas and Carson’s?

I think they want to appease all the fans in every episode by giving them scenes of their favorites, but what did Henry sitting in his chair accomplish in this episode? Rachel getting lost? Jack not sleeping well/missing his mom? The school superintendent?

Did Bill trying on his uniform have to be in this episode? Did Jesse and Clara’s problems have to come fully to light right now?

When every episode is formatted like this, with 10 plotlines all interconnected slightly and going on at the same time, I feel like...nobody gets the spotlight they deserve when they deserve it.

I cANNOT believe I’m saying this, but this plotline for Carson, especially if it will end with him leaving the show for a while or permanently should get the focus it deserves. But it won’t if we get tiny snips of it here and there and then BOOM decision made because Reasons.

And again, I know I’ve said before that I want more continuity throughout the season, but... the best way to do that is to tighten up the plots. Have fewer of them per season and give more screentime to the ones you choose to pursue.

Anyway, I’m still enjoying the season, but I hope they keep some of this kind of stuff in mind for next season. They don’t need plotlines for everyone in every episode. They need the plotlines they choose to write to be worth their screentime.

Sorry this was sloppily written and all that. Hopefully it makes sense. Very curious to see y’alls thoughts. Feel free to make your own posts and @ me, or reblog this or comment!

#when calls the heart #long post #season 8 spoilers #season 8 shenanigans #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information

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serifsans · 3 years

Text

Vladimir’s bulk is warm and comfortable in a way nothing else is. It’d probably be downright luxurious to curl up on his lap in his true form but if there’s anything Jean-Paul hates, it’s letting their boyfriend (boyfriend, he calls him, as if either of them aren’t anything but too damn old, as if they don’t think of him as their husband, even if they dare not say it lest that change something and ruin everything.) see them when they aren’t wearing human form. It’s embarrassing, like being caught wearing bell-bottoms before they cycle back into fashion. They’ll let Vladimir see them now when they’re skulking around wearing ratty bathrobes so old they’re now antiques but JP draws the line as letting him see that silly pink dog.

(Also, they figure that if the regulators ever decide to mind-wipe him, it’s probably better if he has less memories of an obviously alien form. Maybe it won’t completely fry his brain then. JP’s terrified of that. Of course, JP also knows that if they ever came for him, Vladimir’s taking as many regulators as possible with him before they could even get to his head. They’re terrified of that just as much.)

They see each other so infrequently anyway that there’s no point wasting it looking like anything but a dream: that is, if your idea of a dream is undersized, middle-aged, and dressed entirely in designer brands. Vladimir’s is, which is part of the reason they like him so much. Their volph form is not a dream. It’s silly and little and adorable when it’s not glitching and lagging. JP will take adorable but the silly part, no.

Jean-Paul has his shop and his commissions and a whole part of his life he doesn’t want to drag Vladimir into any more than he already has. Vladimir’s got his work and his family and a whole part of his life he doesn’t want to drag Jean-Paul (or Polly Jean or whatever other name they cycle though) into any more than he already has. They both have businesses that keep them very busy and also side-pieces that also keep them very busy, mostly because neither of them really like to address their emotions and mostly deal with them by throwing themselves at whatever distraction they can find. Always, always, there’s the looming threat that this cannot last, that it’ll end poorly, that they should just end this, but whenever they break up, they can’t stay apart too long until the fear comes for one of them again.

Anyway, the point? Jean-Paul’s living like a fucking king over there because he gets to wallow all over this man. Anyone who doesn’t get to cuddle him is missing out on one of the finer joys of life.

“Paulie, my sweet one, maybe you would like it more if you moved a little, yeah? Just a little. I love you as I love no other, you are my starshine, my heart, but your ass, it’s bony. My legs can only take so much. I am sorry, my love.”

Oh, okay, the man he loves is just cruelly abandoning him like a complete and utter monster. That’s how it is. Being JP is so hard. They make a big show of looking extremely sad as they scoot off his lap and curl up against his side instead, sighing extremely, extremely over-dramatically. Vladimir pets his hair and gives him a little kiss to make up for kicking him off of his lap. JP sighs even more sadly and when that doesn’t elicit the desired response, sighs even louder so Vladimir kisses him again.

Their ass isn’t that bony.

“I guess I might find it within my heart to forgive you for this cruel and utterly cutting insult,” they say. “But only because I am an extremely kind person. The best. I’m completely saintly, darling. That’s the truth of it.”

Vladimir chuckles, a low rumble.

“They will write poems to your kindness and generosity. They will not say that you called what’s-her-name horrible things for hours only because she did not say hello to you while walking down the street. I still think she did not see you. If she knew what you said, she would never talk to you agains even if she did see you.”

JP huffs.

“First of all, it was not for hours. Second of all, I was only being truthful. Third of all, she did it on purpose; don’t argue otherwise. Fourthly, she can snub me all she wants, I really do not give a fuck, the joke’s on her, I made out with her dear old dad in the 70s and he liked it, so hah. I hope no one shows up at her fucking garden party. I hope she gets kicked out of the country club. I hope she buys a pony and it doesn’t love her.”

“Okay, Paulie, you tart,” says Vladimir, laughter still in his voice. “You were very busy in the 70s. You must have never rested.”

“You know it.”

Maybe being kicked off Vladimir’s lap isn’t so bad. It means they can nestle up against him and rest their head on his stomach. He likes to run his fingers through their hair, especially since they decided to start wearing it long in this body. Anyone else doing it makes him feel like anxious lapdog with no control over who does and doesn’t pet him (or pull his tail or mess with his ears or poke him) but Vladimir does it and he feels like a person instead. He closes his eyes and though he never naps, JP really feels so comfortable right now he could doze off. Bears are fantastic. The world needs more of them. Actually, it needs more of them and it needs this one to last forever.

“Mm, completely unrelated to exploits of the past, but I made an account on a website. Thought you should know. Transparency. Communication. That sort of thing. It’s fun.”

God, they’re comfy. This is amazing. Their life really is so blessed. Thank you, universe.

“Paulie,” his boyfriend says with gentle exasperation in his voice. “You join these websites, you find someone that maybe you do not like, you say things that you know to be hurtful, the websites say that you cannot go to them anymore. You can’t keep doing this. There is a reason that I run the boutique’s social media and you, you, my heart, are allowed nowhere near. You are very spiteful and very rude. I know this and I love you.”

JP really can’t argue against this one because they’re running out of websites to be banned from. Even still, they roll their eyes and huff because how dare Vladimir call them out like this.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll behave. I’m really trying to be nicer, you know. It’s all so goddamn weird that I wouldn’t even understand how to insult these people if I tried, anyway. I don’t fucking get memes, darling. It’s all a bunch of bullshit people pretend is funny. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I am sorry you do not understand the Internet. It is a strange place. I will send you Russian memes instead and then maybe you will understand,” Vladimir says. “If you do not like the site, then maybe consider not being on it.”

“I didn’t say that. I just said that it doesn’t make sense. Darling, you know I really do think people should cater to my exact sense of taste at all times but even though they don’t, I still very graciously put up with it,” JP says. “It’s a website for fellow space fans. They’re all bound to be weird."

Vladimir’s hand in his hair stills.

“I do not need to know the details of what you say on your websites, I think maybe I do not even need to know what they are called, but be mindful of what you post. You do not know who could be reading. Do not mention me on it ever, please. Be careful.”

The ever-present anxiety starts making itself known. It’s not that Vladimir himself makes them anxious because he’s a giant softie underneath the leather and gruff exterior and the fact that he will commit murder in an instant if it means protecting his loved ones. It’s just that sometimes JP very suddenly remembers how much they absolutely have to protect him at all costs and what it will be like to lose him if they can’t devise a way to keep him around forever.

“I’m sorry, Vladimir. I should’ve said something before I made an account. I’ll delete it. I just...you told me I can’t keep running away from others like me. Well, I can’t deal with them in real life. I just can’t. It’s just a website, I didn’t think things through, I don’t want to compromise your safety, I can-”

“Ah, ah, no, I am sorry, I think maybe I said things too harshly, do not worry, my darling. I trust you. Please, maybe it will be a good thing for you and then you will understand their memes. I only want you to be happy and safe. Just be careful, okay? And do not start fights with people.”

JP whines and buries their face against him.

“I really can delete it. I, I don’t always think things through. I wasn’t made for thinking.”

Vladimir decides the best course of action is to pull them back into his lap in hopes it’ll calm the anxious volph, except JP can’t even properly enjoy it because their brain (if they even have a brain because they honestly do not know.) goes from zero to one hundred in half a second and now they’re thinking about everything bad that could possibly happen because they joined a website for aliens.

“Hey, it’s okay, okay? Have fun on your alien dating site. Maybe you will sleep with a Nessie and it will change your life. Do not worry about me. Just be careful with yourself, okay? You do not protect that person enough.”

That’s enough for JP to momentarily break through the anxiety.

“It’s a blogging website, not a hookup website."

“Okay.”

...

“Paulie? Is the Loch Ness Monster real? Do you know her?”

“Darling, you know I never kiss and tell.”

“Is she real?”

“Fuck if I know but I’m certainly not swimming all the way over there to find out.”

#drabble #just jp hanging out with their boyfriend #jp swears like a sailor outside the context of the store #ooc

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goldenkamuyhunting · 3 years

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I've been re-reading GK and in chapter 177 when Kiroranke is telling his story about Hasegawa, Ogata is giving him the side-eye in one panel. You reckon he knew Hasegawa's true identity? Probably unlikely, considering even Tsukishima didn't, but maybe...?

Also completely unrelated, but it weirds me out how friendly and reasonable(?) Ushiyama is portrayed as lol

Well...

we’ve no canon answer so forgive me if I’ll speculate a bit.

The only ways for Ogata to know that Tsurumi was Hasegawa are:

1) if he actually was present when Tsurumi was masquerading as Hasegawa and then recognized him when he met Tsurumi same as Wilk did

2) if Tsurumi told him

3) if a third party informed on this told him

4) if he managed to figure it out piecing together all he knew about Tsurumi and the info Kiro gave to him.

Now let’s consider the possibilities one of those things is true.

1) Ogata is born around 1882. The whole thing with Hasegawa happened in 1991 so I find extremely unlikely at around 9 he was in Russia at the time to see Tsurumi playing the Hasegawa role. Apparently he learnt Russian much later along with Tsukishima so he wasn’t living in Russia back then and we saw he spent most of his youth in Japan in Ibaraki. So NO, I don’t think he could have met Hasegawa and then realize he and Tsurumi were the same person.

2) Honestly I find very unlikely that Tsurumi might have told him, as Tsurumi didn’t tell Tsukishima and Tsukishima seems to be the person Tsurumi trusts the most. I don’t really see why Tsurumi would tell Ogata when he wouldn’t tell Tsukishima so NO, I don’t think Ogata might have learnt it from Tsurumi.

3) The idea of a third party telling Ogata about Tsurumi playing the role of Hasegawa in the past begs the question of WHO this third party would be. Now Central could have this info but, even if we were to embrace Tsukishima’s speculation that Ogata is working with Central... why should Central, in the form of one of its representatives (Kikuta, Wada, someone else), tell Ogata this? Where’s the relevance with whatever they might want Ogata for (spying Tsurumi, helping Tsurumi find the gold, staging a coup in Tsurumi’s army, whatever you want to speculate since we’ve no idea if Ogata is working with Central or not). I also want to point out that normally information about spies aren’t revealed easily. Very likely Tsurumi’s work in Russia was shared with extremely few people so, again, NO, I don’t think Ogata might have learnt it from another party.

4) I’m guilty of piecing together all the info we were given and figuring out Tsurumi was Hasegawa before the big reveal so, in my eyes, it seems easy for Ogata to piece together facts and figure it but I could be biased. According to Noda’s Q&A Ogata learnt Russian along with Tsukishima so, although he was very young and not in the army yet, in 1897 he was evidently with Tsukishima and Tsurumi in Vladivostok. He doesn’t seem present in that discussion but although it’s difficult as Tsukishima isn’t talktive, he might still have ended up relying bits of that conversation... or Ogata somehow figured out through other means about Hasegawa and the connection with Tsurumi’s mother’s mained name. At the very least I’ll say Ogata was, at least, aware Tsurumi worked as a spy in Russia. Hasegawa being a Japanese spy might have rang a bell to him and might have explained how Tsurumi was aware of certain things. However I still think that, while for me it’s easy to connect the dots because I know how things work in a tale, for Ogata might have not been equally simple to assume the spy Kiro met was Tsurumi in disguise. Long story short YES, it’s possible Ogata figured out Tsurumi was Hasegawa... but this likely depends on the question ‘would this be plot relevant?’ and we can’t really answer this question because, since we don’t know Noda’s plans, we can’t really tell.

Anyway, to sum it up, yes, it’s possible Ogata knew/figured out.

I’m biased due to me guessing so I can’t really tell how difficult it would be for Ogata connecting the dots... but I still think it was possible for him to do so.

We’ll see.

As for Ushiyama... well, Ushiyama wasn’t someone meant to be a criminal. He ended up in jail due to how, when he defended himself against 11 people, he ended up killing his master.

So it’s not like we’re talking of a callous criminal but of a man who ended in jail for excess of self defence.

There’s to say though that early on in the story Ushiyama seemed more of a darker figure, so this might have let you with a darker impression.

Ushiyama was king of retconned pretty early on into a better person so this is why he might feel friendly and reasonable... kind of like how Nihei was.

Anyway these are my two cents on it.

Thank you for your ask!

#Ogata Hyakunosuke #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Tsukishima Hajime #Ushiyama Tatsuuma #Kikuta Mokutarou #Wada Kouji #Nihei Tetsuzou

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Becoming a Home: Journey to Hogwarts - Ch. 8

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: Here is the 8th chapter of our series that has been such a joy in my life. I have enjoyed writing this part so much. There is love and fluff and all sorts of cuteness! Huge thanks to @iliveiloveiwrite, @heloisedaphnebrightmore, @obsessedwithrandomthings, and @firewhisky-kisses for reading and helping me come up with ideas for this chapter! I hope you all enjoy <3

Series Masterlist

The portal stood open in front of her. Ana had already hugged the other girls goodbye, they were happy to be staying, but going was just for the best. Hermione may have found the citizenship loophole, but she hadn’t seemed to warm up to Ana anymore.

She looked back at the faces that she loved so much. Who knew that a book club could have led to all of this? Even though Des, Kiara, Ellie, and Mel were there, one face wasn’t watching her - Ron. Ana had told him to stay back at the Burrow. She said her goodbyes to the Weasleys there. Only Arthur was with her now.

“Goodbye, Ana,” Ellie spoke again as Ana took a step forward, waving one more time. She could feel the power of the portal and almost see home. It was such a weird feeling. The room across the barrier was home, she should be happy to be going back. Ana hesitated a second longer - was this the right choice? If it was, why wasn’t she smiling?

“ANA! WAIT! Please, don’t go!” Ron bursted into the Ministry room, pushing through those who were seeing Ana off. He was slightly out of breath, signifying that he ran through the entire building to find her. He didn’t stop until Ana’s hands were in his own and he could brush the loose blond hair out of her face.

“What are you doing here, Ron? I told you not to come.” Ana looked past Ron at Hermione, who was in the corner, making sure everything was going smoothly. Her eyes then drifted to her four friends. Despite all being very different people, they were all romantics. They were watching her with wide eyes and pouts on their faces.

“I couldn’t just let you leave,” Ron explained, drawing his attention back to you. “Ana, love, there is such a connection here. I would be a bloody idiot if I let you go. I would never be able to forgive myself.” Ron’s eyes pleaded with her. “Just give me a chance to make your life here amazing - please.”

“I don’t know, Ron. I-I -” Ana tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words. She didn’t want to seem weak in front of him. She was supposed to be a Gryffindor afterall. The portal still spun behind her, Ron unrelenting, looking for some answers. Ana breathed in deeply. “I don’t fit in here, Ron. I’m in the way,” she spoke confidently.

“What are you talking about?” Ron was still completely confused. He thought that everything had been going off perfectly. He was searching her face, trying to find some sort of explanation.

“Ana,” Hermione interjected, stepping forward from where she had been keeping rather quiet. “I know this is Ronald’s moment, but I know that you- uh, heard me a while back - talking to Ginny. I was rather harsh with you, but I can see how happy Ron makes you and you make him.” Hermione looked down at her clasp hands. Ana could tell how hard this was, but could hear how genuine her words were. “You should stay. I’m sorry.”

Ron turned back to Ana instantly. “Please, will you stay?”

“You really want me here?” she had to reiterate more for herself than anyone else. Instead of responding, Ron drew her face to his, pressing his lips firmly against her own. He conveyed everything he couldn’t say with the kiss, not caring that everyone else was watching. “Okay, I’ll stay,” the girl grinned when she pulled away, lips swollen and face lighting up.

Ana stood in front of her mirror, clasping a necklace around her neck. She held the pendant tenderly in her fingers, remembering how Ron insisted on showering her with gifts after she decided to stay. Ana made him return the more expensive ones, but he insisted that she kept the little silver necklace with a diamond in the middle of a star. It was now one of her favorite possessions.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Ron grinned, standing in the doorway of their bedroom, looking at her reflection from behind her. Ana could feel the blush spreading on her cheeks as she looked over her dress one more time. “Everyone will begin arriving soon,” Ron informed her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “This evening is going to be perfect,” he whispered, placing a kiss on Ana’s temple.

The doorbell rang and Ron went to let in the first guests. Ana and Ron had just moved into a small house together right outside of London. It may have only been six months since Ana decided to stay, but when had anything about their relationship been conventional.

As a hoard of Weasleys entered the little house, Ana thought about how nervous Ron was when he asked her to move out of the Burrow and into a house of their own the month prior.

“Ana?” Ron timidly entered into Bill’s old room.

“Hiya,” Ana giggled, pecking Ron’s lips. “What’s up?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

Ana groaned playfully before teasing her boyfriend. “I thought I told you no more gifts. I explicitly said that me accepting the necklace meant the end of your gifts,” she giggled.

“Well, it wouldn’t be just a present for you.” Ron pulled out a little square box. Nothing like a ring box, but just a gift box. “Go ahead, open it.” He placed the little black box in Ana’s hands. She slid the lid off and flipped over the bottom half, a little gold key falling into her hand.

Ana looked up at Ron with a confused face. “What’s this?”

“It’s been a little crowded in this house recently and I had been thinking about moving out for a while, but I was wondering if you might want to come with me,” Ron looked at the girl sitting in front of him hopefully. The moment she stepped into his life, she changed everything and this was the one way that he could think of to show her how positive a change that was for him.

“Move in with you?”

“I know that it is really fast and that we’ve barely known each other a year, but everything just feels right with you. I love you.” Her breath hitched in her chest as her heart swelled. I love you, Ana and I’m not afraid of it.”

Ana immediately reached up, wrapping her arms around Ron’s neck and pulling him closer to her. “I love you too, Ron,” she beamed before kissing him.

“Ana! Our favorite girl,” Fred grinned devilishly, hugging her tightly.

“Don’t you look lovely, dear!” Molly exclaimed, pulling Ana into a bear hug before hugging her own son. “The place looks amazing! You really do have quite the touch,” Molly smiled, looking around the sitting room.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Ana, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly? Oh, George! Put that down! You are going to break it!” she scolded, turning to the younger twin. Ana chuckled to herself as the people that became her family gathered in her home, well her shared home.

Ana escaped to the kitchen for a moment to check on the dinner. She didn’t want her first big event to be ruined by a burnt ham. She was soon joined by Molly Weasley.

“I apologize for my boys. They are like having a troll in an antique shop,” Molly huffed, stirring the vegetables in the pot.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Molly,” Ana interjected, “You’re a guest tonight!”

“Nonsense, dear. I will always be here to help. Living with Ronald won’t be a walk in the park,” she laughed, busying herself.

“I am feeling a little nervous,” Ana admitted. “I’ve mostly lived by myself, not with another person to worry about and care for.”

“Ana, sweetheart, I can already tell that you are going to be a natural. My Ronald is in love with you, I can tell when I look at him. His eyes have always given it away,” Molly smiled sweetly. Ana could feel the blush rising in her cheeks, Molly’s words made her heart swell.

“I hope you’re right, Molly.”

“I’ve raised more than seven children, I know I’m right.” Molly affectionately rubbed Ana’s arms before pulling her into another hug. The plump woman could not have hoped for a better partner for her youngest son. She could tell when the two still lived at the Burrow that they would wind up with each other even if it took them a bit to figure it out themselves.

Ron was talking with Charlie when Ginny and Harry arrived, Bill, Fleur, and little Victoire following shortly. “Blimey! Who knew that Ron could put together such a place,” Harry teased, hugging his best friend.

“You know that I did none of this, right mate? Between her charms and creative eye, Ana put this place together in the blink of an eye. I barely had time to offer to help.”

“Don’t forget that you picked out the kitchen counter and paint. It’s honestly my favorite part of the house,” Ana giggled, coming up beside him, greeting both Harry and Ginny.

“Ron?” Ana called from the kitchen while Ron unpacked in the bedroom. “What do you think of this color?” She held a swatch of possible paint colors up to the wall over the cracked countertop. The blond woman sighed, feeling defeated. The entire kitchen needed to be redone.

“Darling, breathe.” Ron could see the look and worry across her face, so naturally his wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.. “It already looks beautiful and this is the last thing we have to do.”

“That’s exactly why it has to be perfect,” she explained, holding the paint colors back up to the wall.

“I like that one,” Ron pointed to a very soft gray. “It will go with the dark blue cabinets and brings out the color in the counter I chose last week.” Ana eyed the color a bit, thinking about their previous choices before a smile erupted on her face.

“It's brilliant, Ron!” She turned in his arms to hug him, excited at the prospect of their home finally being finished.

“I can have it painted by week’s end before going back to work,” he promised. He would honestly do anything to see the smile that graced her face and as long as he was the one keeping it there, he would be happy.

The bell rang again and Ron went to answer because Victoire had rushed Ana, begging her to play dolls with her. The little blond had taken a liking to Ana after the first time they met and Ana created an entire world of make believe with the little girl.

“Ana,” Ron called, “Your friends are here! And Remus and Tonks of course!” Five couples noisily piled into the home, each commenting on the layout and greeting the entire Weasley family.

“Merlin!” Mel exclaimed, “it’s been too long, Ana.”

“You really should have stayed in London,” Ellie followed, pouting playfully.

“I don’t know you guys, it’s really great out here. It’s quiet, plus, I think you all are forgetting that we can apparate now. I can see you all seconds after I receive your owls,” she laughed, catching Ron’s eye from across the room. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?”

Kiara clung onto Neville’s arm. “I’ll pass on that,” she shrugged. “Maybe just a coca cola?”

“KIARA JONES? Are you turning down alcohol? I am shocked!” Ana feigned surprise.

“Bugger off,” Kaira chuckled, clinging on to Neville’s arm.

“I guess wanting a coca cola is acceptable,” Ana teased the dark haired girl, “Anyone else?”

“You know I will take one,” Des grinned widely. “Why don’t Sirius and I actually get those for everyone? It seems that you have another guest.” Des pointed to the door. Before Ana turned around to greet her last guest, she looked at all of her friends again - the friends she came to this amazing world with. They all looked so happy, each with someone they loved dearly and Ana could just see it on their faces.

Des and Sirius laughed at the bar, pouring drinks for the room. Ellie leaned into Blaise while she spoke with Tonks and Remus. Draco had his arm draped over Mel’s shoulder while speaking with the twins. She was laughing so hard at whatever the three boys had said. And Kiara and Neville were just wrapped up in each other. Thank Merlin he had given into her.

“Ana?” a soft voice spoke from the doorway.

“Hermione,” Ana smiled widely, immediately hugging the brunette. “I’m so happy that you could make it!” She held Hermione at an arm’s length, looking her up and down to make sure she looked okay. “You haven’t been working too hard, have you?” she chuckled.

“No, I actually went on holiday,” Hermione beamed. “It was wonderful.”

“Good, I’m glad. Everyone is inside, let me get you a drink,” Ana spoke, leading Hermione to where Ginny and Harry were standing. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Ana. Truly,” Hermione spoke quietly before Ana walked to get more drinks.

Friendship hadn’t come instantly, but over the last few months, Ana was really making an effort with Hermione and now they were much closer than they had been. When Ana showed interest in having a housewarming party, she instantly added Hermione to her guest list. Ron couldn’t be happier than his childhood best friend was now friends with the love of his life.

“Need some help over here, darling,” Ron asked, placing his hand on Ana’s lower back and a kiss against her temple.

“If you could take around some of the entreés, that would be brilliant. Thank you, love,” Ana grinned, handing a tray to Ron.

“I’d do anything for you,” Ron winked, taking the food around to all the chatting groups. Des popped by, handing Ana her drink before sliding her arm around Sirius’ waist, joining Ellie, Blaise, Tonks, and Remus.

Ana took in the sight of all the people she loved so much around her. There was life, happiness, and conversation filling her new home. It was exactly how she wanted it to feel all the time. It filled her heart with warmth.

“Auntie Ana?” Victoire tugged on Ana’s dress.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m not you aunt,” Ana tried to explain, bending down to be on the little girl’s level, her navy dress falling over her bent knees.

“Why not? You live with Uncle Ron?” Victoire’s innocence was precious. Ana couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the idea even though she knew that was not coming anytime soon.

Instead of arguing with the little girl, Ana just continued the conversation. “What do you need, love?”

“Do you have any cookies?”

“Mhmmmm, let me think,” Ana pretended to ponder what was in her kitchen. “You know what? I do! But, you have to make sure you eat all your dinner before you can have any, okay? Cookies don’t taste nearly as good if you don’t eat anything healthy before.” Ana laughed loudly at the disgust that appeared on Victoire’s face. “But don’t worry,” she reassured her, “I put a special batch aside for you!”

Victoire’s face brightened as she wrapped her tiny arms as far around Ana as she could before running back to her father and climbing up on his lap. It was adorable. “Someone seems to like you,” Ron cooed in Ana’s ear, wrapping his arms around her waist as if they belonged there.

“Yeah, so much so that she called me auntie,” Ana chuckled, turning in his arms so that she was facing him.

“Mhm, auntie, you say? Maybe we can make that happen one day,” Ron whispered, peppering kisses across Ana’s face, causing her to giggle.

“Not just yet,” she said over her laughter, “Let’s just enjoy this right now.” Ron nodded, kissing her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips.

“I guess I can do that,” Ron rolled his eyes, not wanting to let Ana go.

“Ronald,” she giggled, “we have guests, we should probably get back to them, and-” Ana sniffed, “I think dinner is ready!” Ana pulled away from Ron quickly and he just watched lovingly as she shuffled around the kitchen. Luckily, he was nearby because she nearly dropped the ham after pulling it out of the oven.

Ron placed many tables in a row earlier in order to fit everyone at the dining room table. It was cozy, but no one seemed to mind. Ron hit his knife against his glass after everyone had food on their plates. “How about a toast?”

“Here! Here!” George called, lifting his glass up.

Ron laughed before starting to speak, “I want to thank you all for warming Ana and I’s new home. It’s amazing to see so many people in here. You are all always welcomed like Mum opened the Burrow for everyone, I know Ana would love it,” he paused, looking at his girlfriend, “And, here is to all of the girls that turned our lives upside down when they fell into Hogwarts. I think I speak for all the lads when I say that it is the greatest chaos to ever enter our lives. Cheers!”

Glasses clinked around the table, chattering and eating beginning as Ron sat in his designated seat next to Ana. “That was beautiful,” Ana smiled, nudging Ron a bit with her shoulder.

“I meant every word of it. I love you, Ana,” Ron spoke softly, placing a gentle kiss on Ana’s lips, knowing that he would do that at least once a day for the rest of his life.

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