#what reply gets me is how everyone treats me like I’m a big burden now like I’m just

[hagravenholm]

.

[cheriecelestial]

Melody of a Muse

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ angst, eventual mature content, crude humour, strong language, typos, grammatical errors, cliché moments

genre *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ drama, romance, Band AU, Reverse Harem

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ because I think I could take all four of ‘em. Tho I seriously need to come up with a better title than that lame ass one I’m currently using (I’m accepting suggestions)

╰ ┈➤ Chapter List

╰ ┈➤ Master list

Chapter One

𝔊oing live in ..

3

2

1

"It's ya girl Irris. How's everyone feeling today ?" The blonde girl chirped infront of the camera as she subconsciously adjusted a lock of hair in front of her face. As soon as she logged in, comments flooded into her chat. She glanced at the numbers on her neon screen and smiled, satisfied with the viewership. She started her stream with usual one sided small talk and usual pleasantries. Her hand reached out to adjust the light source to directly focus on her face. Y/N, or as she went by online - Irris, noticed that she might've applied a bit too much highlighter that gleamed under the pastel purple monochromatic light. But of course that didn't bother the fans one bit , in fact they probably felt that she looked like a fairy. Despite how burdening it might have felt sometimes, Y/N was used to public attention and enjoyed it thoroughly.

" Today is a very special day. A day worth celebrating.", the girl beamed and the comments seemed to pour in rapidly. Fans just grew more curious by the second as to what she was going to announce. Y/N skimmed through the comments suggesting the most bizarre things, from relationship announcements to pregnancies to switching career paths. The wild guesses earned a chuckle out of the blonde woman.

"No no it's none of that but first - " she started with her hand disappearing from the audience's line of view. The woman took her sweet-sweet time in retrieving the items she prepared for her stream. The reactions of the impatient and curious crowd never failed to fascinate her.

"Ta-da" she smiled as she produced a bottle of strawberry champagne and a wine glass. A wine glass ? What for ? asked the audience.

"I have some good news and awesome news. Which one first ?" She winked playfully at the camera. She could almost hear her fans the excitement of her fans resonating from the chat.

" So good news first. My contract with Abssosque Entertainment is up so I'm officially free and the awesome news is ..." she trailed off as if waiting for imaginary drum roll ,"I got an offer from Teyvat Entertainment and I'll be a part of the Teyvat Family soon !" On hearing this the chat went nuts.

Irrisisluv : YASSSSKEHAKD QUEEN PURR💅💅✨

Nyako7 : The queen finally getting the treatment she deserves (๑>◡<๑)

Kai00 : SLAYYYYY

Irrissimp : Now that our goddess is out . Time to burn that shit down. Get the gasoline boys.

Gangstagurl23 : CONGRATSSSSS BAE

Icantstoptwinkling : * insert Dobby voice* Mother is free .

Irrissteponme : Irris lookin fine as fuck like Excuse me? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.

Princessmurderkill : Ahakdhabskalja I can finally die in peace .

Mikosslut : Yaemiko x Irris when ?

Kaeyaismyreligion : OMGGGGHAJHSKA YASS YAEMIKO X IRRIS IS A NEED . MOMMYx2

Childessluttywaist : Those Teyvat bitches better treat our goddess the way she deserves or else imma commit a felony.

" Yes yes I know. I'm excited too. I wonder what Teyvat Ent. has in store for me. But I know that I am going to thoroughly enjoy my time there for a fact." After replying to a few more comments and addressing some questions, she poured herself a glass and champagne and did a cheered a toast towards the camera. Drinking on stream was a big no-no but she thought that it could be excused just this once.

" Hey Y/N have you seen my -" she heard her door creak open and saw her brother, Dainsleif. " Oh I didn't realise that you were on a stream. I'll come back later." He quickly apologised and turned to leave

" No no Dain. Wait. We were just celebrating. Come sit" She patted her hand on the couch and smiled encouragingly. Dainsleif paused for a moment and then walked in and took his spot next to her. " Hello guys" he started awkwardly, somewhat unfamiliar with streaming.

However Y/N smile dropped when she saw her chat. The excitement and bubbling joy of her fans had turned into ruthless and horrible hate comments. She bit the inside of her cheek till she tasted blood. Her brother noticed how the atmosphere changed and her sister's sunny disposition turned gloomy. " I should go. I have work anyway ." He said with a melancholic smile. Y/N looked up and nodded wordlessly. She knew that resisting would only look her brother look bad. She wanted to say how the people are wrong about their perception of her brother, how he wasn't the one at fault, how all of this was so unfair. But she couldn't.

Celebrities can't do that. They can't be angry, sad or even frustrated. God forbid they exhibit any other emotion apart from unfaltering happiness. However there wasn't anything she could do about it, there was no way to change the way people thought. So as much as she disliked it, she just accepted it as her fate and went with the flow - switching her brain off and putting on her practiced and perfectly curated selling smile. It left a bad taste in her mouth but that's what people liked so who was she to complain .

" Anyways people. Let's not dampen the mood." She clapped her hands and continued as if nothing happened. After the 'celebration', she continued with her usual stream content. And as she kept talking, the chat gradually regained its joyous fervour. About an hour's worth of streaming, she said her goodbyes and wrapped up her stream.

" Fucking finally" Y/N got up and stretched. " You done ?" She heard her brother's voice from the living room. She walked into the living room and saw him lounging on the couch, watching some hallmark romance film. " What tells ?" She plopped down and cuddled into the fluffy blanket on the couch. "You never cuss on camera", he stated in a manner of explanation and she scoffed ," You know 'cause I got manners and shit ." She spoke in a tone she never used on camera. On air, her voice was always atleast a couple octaves higher than her real voice.

Her brother chuckled at the stark difference between Irris and Y/N, consequently earning a smack from her. Y/N titled her head onto her brother's shoulder and said in a somewhat melancholic tone " I'm going to miss this."

" Me too"

" Can't you come with me ?" She sprang up and looked at him pleadingly. Her brother just groaned wearily," You know I can't. I made a promise."  A promise. Right. With the person who got him in the mess he was. Y/N was bitter that her brother cared about that person enough for basically ruin his career. But deep down she knew that it wasn't the person that caused him to do it, it was his own sense of morality. She sometimes really hated how righteous her brother could be. She looked around the room and saw all the cardboard boxes labelled with her stuff. Her brother would have been able to leave that god awful company and come with her, had that promise not held him back.

" Whatever"

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

With the final riff of Diluc's guitar and the bang of the drums , the lead singer hit his last note . Kaeya and Childe whooped at the crowd and they cheered back . The members waved at their audience as their leader Zhongli , better known as Morax , delivered the ending thank you message. The arena was filled with applause and chants of their names . Kaeya tapped his mic and began speaking," And as promised." He looked to Diluc who rolled his eyes at his brother's antics but nonetheless took his guitar pick, kissed it and tossed it into the crowd. All of them left their spots and stood at the edge of the stage in frenzy to catch it. " Everyone thank you for coming ."

" We are DCKZ !"

And with the final cheer, the stage fell dark. The members hurried backstage and were instantly flocked by staff, offering them water bottles, towels and what not. " Man I'm beat." Childe, the main rapper, huffed. "Me too" Kaeya hummed in agreement.

"Today's  show was stunning. Good work everyone." Albedo, their manager, clapped his hand together and offered them an encouraging smile. "Bedooooooo-" Childe whined and tried to engulf the shorter blonde man in a bear hug but was pulled back by Diluc grabbing the back of his collar. " Go shower first you sweaty piece of shit"

"Right back 'atcha Luc" he scowled and shook Diluc’s hand off. Albedo let out a small sigh which sounded somewhat like a tired laugh and waited for them to settle everything amongst themselves. He was way too used to this by now.

After everyone was done with showering and a change of fresh clothes, Albedo waited for them in their van parked backstage. The drive was started with the usual - Zhongli trying to catch some rest with his head leaned back against the seat. Kaeya and Childe bickering about something and jointly annoying Diluc, who in turn snapped at them.

Childe's phone chimed with an app notification and his eyes widened. "Everybody hush !" He commanded loudly , waking up Zhongli in the process.

" Wha-" Zhongli mumbled in a daze. Kaeya peeked over the main rapper's shoulder and saw what he was watching ," Simp" is all he said. Diluc raised his eyebrow in questioning. He acted like he didn't like the drama but deep down he really enjoyed it. Especially considering that his deepest darkest secret was that he often rented a hotel room to go and watch every episode of 'Keeping up with the Shogun' so that no one finds out and teases him about it.

" It's some YouTuber he follows. Irris, is it ?" Zhongli guessed and the ginger nodded wordlessly without looking up from the screen.

" What's so special about her ?" Diluc scoffed. According to him, all YouTubers and influencers were the same - pretty faces with zero substance and a bad case of celebrity complex. And in his defence, he had never come across anyone who disputed his belief so he  had no reason to believe that she would be any different either. He saw influencers as pretentious, vain, overpaid salespeople and the word invoked images of reality celebrity, artifice, undeserved riches, wastefulness and  textbook narcissism . And Childe liking her made her all the more repulsive to Diluc.

" Don't you dare disrespect my waifu !" Childe barked defensively, causing Diluc to merely roll his eyes and look away. Kaeya turned to Childe and grabbed his shoulders," Hey buddy we've talked about this. You can't wife random women you've never met . Hmm ?" He cooed as if talking to a five year old though given his behaviour he might as well be one. " She's not random ! She's Irris ! And plus I've met her at a YouTube seminar once" Childe protested, cradling his phone closer to his chest almost as if his phone were Irris and he was protecting her from his fellow band members.

" Everyone please just calm down." The three turned their attention to their leader who had visibly grown tired of their bickering. " Whatever I bet she's just as fake as the others" Diluc muttered to himself and sunk further back into his seat , not wanting to debate the topic any further. " What did you just say you emo fatherless edgelord motherf-" The youngest fumed as looked like he was ready to pounce on the red head any second.

" I believe -" the four were interjected by their Manager's voice from the driver's seat. He had been listening to them much like he often did, however he never felt the need to intervene in their conversations. So naturally, everyone was surprised at Albedo's words. " - it's unfair to built a prejudiced perception of her on your previous understanding of influencers and Tartaglia's liking. Additionally, her job entails multiple facets such as modelling, streaming, hosting variety shows apart from just being an influencer and she also so happens to be a proficient dancer. So I think it's best you research a bit more and form a more educated opinion."

He's totally a hardcore stan. The thought resonated in band members' minds in unison.

They silently agreed to not discuss the topic further in fear of offending their manager. Albedo, though younger than all of them, held respect in everyone's eyes. He was a skilled worker who had gotten them out of numerous potential scandals and becoming victims of the cancel culture. He was someone who did his job a little so diligently that Childe sometimes questioned if he even had a social life at this point. But Kaeya and Diluc knew that he was going out with a sales manager from their company and regularly babysat his colleague's daughter. Heavens know where he gets the time for that.

"Diluc -" Childe looked up from the screen with a look of sheer surprise and glee. " What ?" Diluc asked annoyed.

" Can you please tell Jean that I love her ?"

" What the fuck -" And before Diluc could react further Childe added ," Irris is coming to Teyvat"

" HUH ?!"

taglist - @sleepykittycx / @kentply

[paulinawoodpecker]

Tad the lost explorer and the spear of blood and tears chapter 27

@jakkiisthatboy2

“pickle? Can you do the same with zulo?” Asked Dagenia. “what do you mean?” “do the same thing with me. Hurt his feelings” Victoria told him what she meant and Pickles nodded in agreement

“zulo!” “huh?”

“you should always do everything in your power to help people. And we all hoped that you would become a better person. Your mom reached out to you, I reached out to you. So did your sister.” Zula shook her head at zulo.

“we all reached out to you! This proves how big our hearts are. And yet, you remained the same. Why? Because as far as you’re concerned, having a big heart is a weakness to be exploited. You already believe you’re better than all of us.” Zula gave him a contempt look and nods to agree with him. “So don't be fooled. I, for one, am done wasting my energy in vain. As a CIA agent, I'd much rather help all of you because you deserve it a thousand times more!”

“I'm sorry. I'm going to withdraw your apology.” This made everyone feel shocked. “the cucumber man convinced me. He's right to call me an idiot and to say that what I'm trying to do is pointless.”

“I didn't even call you an idiot!!” “It's just that... I had bad days! The truth is, I taught you how to be mean all this time!” Zula gasps and said I KNEW IT!”

“so that’s why you kept hurting my feelings all this time! You got it from your childhood friend!” “well not anymore!”

“I loved helping people and the backstreets so much, being their personal assistant on their Alliances, and now I feel completely useless. So when I saw you, I was convinced that this could be a new way for me to make myself be useful, to feel like I, too, might belong somewhere. even though, wherever I go, there's always someone rejecting me. But if everyone else on who I hate is right, and there is no more hope for the backstreets, my twin sister, then there is no hope for me either! Zulo started to cry from pickles hurting his feelings. “Great. Let me take over.” Tad said.

Tad suddenly transformed to his regular form

“no not again! I can’t be myself again!” “oh tad. You’re just the same. What can you do to stop me?” “the same as you!”

“someone told me that your dad taught you murder. So he cut Dagenia’s father’s head off to teach you!” Tad told zulo.

“eh- what?” “your such a murder right after what happened to oganda, and Liza and Derik! and right now! my bravest hero power and energy is keeping inside my heart and my mind from you!”

Zulo got more teary as he fell down to his knees and tears fall down to the floor. “woah. What did I teach this guy?” Pickles question himself when zulo breathes until he felt teary and evil at the same time and he started to chuckle

“is he crying or laughing?” Asked Archie. “that’s more like laughing.” James from team rocket answered.

“well…if that’s the battle you want, then it’s the battle you shall get.” “deal!” Tad transforms into his knight outfit and fought zulo himself with the triple team and Dagenia.

“alright triple team! It’s time to die!” Zulo gets out a gun but it’s pretend and disappeared. “wait…where did it go?.” Then he heard A gun click.

“zulo…better look behind you…” he turned his head to Zula and gasped as his twin sister holds a gun; about to shoot him. “Zula… Drop the gun.”

His sister replied: “no.” Which made everyone gasp. what?! How dare you say no to me?! I’m the oldest!” “will you listen to me?! Where did my older brother go?! Where were you when it was time to murder people?! The truth is…I hate it! And I hate you!” Zula angrily shed a tear. “stop this madness at once!”

“after all on what I done, you betrayed me!” “I don’t think you are my brother!!!” Zula angrily sheds more tears. “send them all free.” She clicks the gun which made everyone panic. “or I’ll kill you myself.” Zulo puts his hands in the air for not letting himself killed.

“i through you cared about me…but you treat me like a burden…right after when you killed Liza, I started to regret and realize what’s it’s like to be a murder. please zulo. I don’t want this to go any worse!” “I have to finish it Zula. It’s our job!”

Zula lowered her head and sheds tears while sobbing silently

Tad slowly walks up to her and said “Zula. It’s not your fault. It’s your brother fault we’re here.” “He took care of me. And now he doesn’t even want me anymore.” “I know how that feels. So let me do this bravest hero moment for the last time.” Zula looked up to him teary and tad wiped her tears away. “Alright.. thank you.”

“Now will you excuse me, I have a luwiki twin to arrest!”

[jiuwi]

εїз ﹢🥂 𓂂 genshin men as story genres ! ( 100% )

𓂅 ！“juliet to your romeo, how i heard you say”

꒰ featuring ! ꒱ diluc, zhongli, childe, thoma, kaeya, heizou, dottore ?!

꒰ cw ! ꒱ vampire au (diluc’s part), mentions of blood, rex incognito official lore (only slight mentions), reader was harassed (zhongli’s part), historical au (zhongli’s part), mcd (zhongli’s part), heavy angst (zhongli’s part), very introverted reader (heizou’s part) ?!

꒰ a/n ! ꒱ TYSM FOR 400!! >< special thanks to my moots mwah mwah ily /p <33

vampire au // DILUC

he’s a vampire who has lived for hundreds of years. only recently have their clan ordained that they should stop drinking blood forcefully, one must receive the permission of a human possibly through a contract — verbal or written, or in common cases, through gaining their trust. he is not adept in loving someone, he tried contracts upon contracts but all the humans scramble away from him in fear. he needs a human, a blood supply or whatever, to drink blood from otherwise he’ll die. now on the brink of death, he stumbles across a college student which is you.

stressed and burdened from university, you find yourself sitting in an empty park with a strange man by your side. truth is, you left your apartment because of a shitty roommate who kept complaining because you didn’t clean her room. yeah that’s right, she treats you like a servant. you and her were at odds since before but this was the last straw. the last thing you would do is go back to that hellish apartment and stay with her.

“you,” he starts, voice husky and dry. “yes?” you reply, heart beating violently against your chest because of the steady silence of the place. “do you want to sign a contract with me?” he asks in such a serious tone that you refuse to believe that he was joking. “oh, ah, i’m afraid i have pressing matters to attend to rather than taking a job. thank you for the offer though.” you chuckle nervously, shifting your eyes to a much clearer view of the man beside you. he wears clothes that are all black, his hair is messy, and his peculiar eye color. his crimson-stained eyes makes eye contact with you and you involuntarily shudder with a sense of fear.

“i don’t mean a job,” he sighs, his gaze turning away. “i can help you, i can pay for your needs or find you a place to stay, just — please, help me.” he begs you with a trembling voice and you think about it for a second. “okay, i’ll help.” his ears perk up at your answer and you continue. “but only for a year. next year, on new year’s eve, this—” referring to you and him, “should end.”

“deal.”

right person, wrong time // ZHONGLI

you met the said man when you were nineteen. he was dressed simply in a brown attire, it wasn’t exactly made with the finest material and it looked old and tattered. in the eyes of everyone, he seemed like a poor commoner struggling to make ends meet. though you two were merely strangers, he came by your side when your superior harassed you uncontrollably without a stop. ever since then, you’ve started being friends and you will not lie, but being with him gives you a big sense of relief and comfort. as time flies by, you get to know that he has a lot of secrets to hide and even though you do have a lot to share, there’s one thing that you will never reveal to him — the fact that you’re terminally ill.

only then when he stopped by your house and saw you coughing up blood does he realize what the true state of your health is.

he would offer to help you again — give you his jewelries to sell, give you mora, pray to celestia—! but in all honesty, he knows it was all to no avail. this is the unfortunate truth of the world, you were a mortal and he was a god. saving you was far from possible but... why is it that his heart aches so much as he clasps your hands in his, kissing your forehead and begging anyone— everyone! not to take you away from him. you were nearing death and all he could do was kneel against your frail body and take whatever there is left of your presence.

your lifeless eyes look at him one last time as you smile weakly against his trembling fingers.

“i love you.”

and he vows that in your next life, he’ll tell you everything — morax, liyue, everything. for he is the sole survivor of the love that you shared with him.

childhood friends to lovers + slight enemies to lovers // CHILDE, THOMA

you and him were the best of friends, like two peas in a pod. as a child, you two were inseparable. that is until he suddenly moves out of town and leaves nothing for you to find — a letter, a text, nothing. he left you without a word and deep hatred stemmed from within your heart, and you were sure to remember that feeling for years to come. years passed ever since then and now you were in college, you moved into the capital city of your country since that was where your university resides.

only when you enter the building of the said university, do you see a guy who’s VERY familiar. you squint, trying to figure out who that is and there it is — that cheeky smile you’ve known ever since your childhood. you weren’t sure how to approach him, but one thing you’re sure about is the fact that you need to confront him about something — the reason why he left you without a word.

forbidden love w/ a criminal // DOTTORE

you were from a noble family in teyvat, while he works as a researcher for the fatui. your family doesn’t approve of him, i mean have you seen him???? 1.) he lacks basic manners (apparently :sighs:) and 2.) they say that he doesn’t deserve you at all! but you think otherwise.

no matter how much you beg your parents to accept him, they just wouldn’t budge. so he proposes the idea to elope, and you complied very easily. that night you left your home, your status, and your family. wearing a black cloak you see him atop of a horse, he notices your presence and picks you up as you both run away from your manor. finally, you’re out of that constrained life of yours.

a love accident..?? // HEIZOU, KAEYA

he was deeply in love with your sister. she was a natural cheery girl, whilst you were a quiet person who doesn’t like interacting with people that much. but the thing is, your sister doesn’t like him back, so he comes up with a strange plan that is sure to work. he goes into a witch’s shop, purchasing a small but effective love potion that needed to be dropped on your sister’s tea.

surely enough, the three of you had tea together and he drops the mixture as expected. what he and you didn’t know, was that you were the one who took a sip of the spiked tea. he was in disbelief when you suddenly cling to him and say a lavish amount of ‘i love you’s’ and ‘marry me’s’ that your sister squealed in excitement. that evening, she says that you and heizou are very in love and that you two are ‘planning for a marriage’ to happen — and your parents are more than delighted to arrange your engagement with him.

there, within a single night, you get betrothed to him. and now he’s freaking out because everyone believes that you two are passionate lovers when in reality, this is all because of his stupid mistake! just how is he going to live like this, how is he going to live with you?

🏷️ — ( taglist ) : @kujuo, @yonaraee, @modmochi, @thirtyn1ne, @elizabethrosedarling, @nxwxie, @deathkat657, @kazu-topia, @starfellforyou (refer to this post if you want to be tagged in my future works)

[sokovianheadtilt]

Adoring Love

Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to you crying because of your boss, nobody makes his girl cry

Warnings: Choking? I guess that's a warning

A/N: Request a fic HERE

Word Count: 580

Bucky meant it when he met you that he’d do anything to protect you. He didn’t care what he had to do to keep you happy. So when he came home to you on the couch sobbing as you talked about your day at work, his immediate mindset was ‘who do I need to kill?’ Nobody makes his girl cry, nobody. He stood by the front door as you hadn’t noticed him yet, and kept listening.

“A-and he just yelled at me in front of everyone! I was only doing my job” you cried out into the phone “H-he gave me so much to do today so I’m sorry that I forgot one thing on that list!”

He watched the stress of your job taking a toll on you. You were the assistant to a high-profile lawyer and he didn’t want to say anything but he really thinks you could do better. Work for someone who treats you like a human being and not some servant. He closed the door and went over to you, setting a hand on your shoulder, and watched as you looked up at him and told your friend you had to go before hanging up.

“Hey” you wiped the tears off your cheeks “When did you get back?” He moved to sit beside you “I just did” he replied and kissed your cheek “What’s wrong doll?” He asked like he wasn’t ready to find your boss’ address and strangle him.

You shook your head “Nothing” you sniffled “Just a long day” you leaned into his side, resting your head on the cool metal of his arm, and sighed heavily.

He frowned and looked at the lines of stress forming onto your face “Why don’t I make your favorite dinner, grab some wine and we can take a nice relaxing bath together? You’ve been working so hard doll you need a break”

You looked at him with those big doe eyes he fell in love with “Bucky you don’t need to do that, I’m okay I promise” he sighed “I can tell that you’re not. I can tell how tense you are when I’m laying with you and your shoulders are all tense” He wasn’t wrong, but you hated when he thought you weren’t happy. You didn’t want to burden him with your personal problems.

“C’mon doll, it's only dinner and a bath, you’ll love it” he tried again to persuade you again before you nodded “Okay” Bucky grinned and kissed you quickly before getting up and making dinner while plotting what he’s going to do tomorrow.

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

Bucky walked into the building you worked at. He timed everything perfectly. You were on your lunch break right now which he knew because he practically had your day memorized. He looked around at the people giving him confused looks, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be there, but he looked incredibly intimidating so nobody dared to go up to him.

He looked around for your boss's office before finding it and barging into his office and watching the man startle in his chair “Whoa! Who are you?! You can’t be in here”

Bucky locked the door and closed the blinds so no one would see inside before looking at him “I really don’t care, but when I come home and see my girl crying because of your ass I need to do something about it”

Bucky watched your boss about to speak but didn’t give him the chance to speak as he grabbed him by the throat and dragged him out his chair, holding him against the wall “Here’s what’s going to happen” he spoked and watched the man struggle against his grip “You’re going to call her and tell her she can go home and take the week off because she desperately needs it. And if I ever see that she’s slightly upset because of you, I won’t hesitate to kill you. The only reason I’m letting you live is that she needs this job”

Your boss quickly nodded “I-I will, just please let me go” he choked out as Bucky released his throat and he took heavy breaths “Now call her” he commanded and watched him quickly grab the phone with shaky hands and dialed your number, Bucky smirking to him proudly.

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

Bucky made sure to get home before you so he can see if you feel remotely better. He was laying across the couch when the door opened and you walked in and saw him before smiling “Hey, the weirdest thing happened today, my boss just called and said I deserved a break which is something I’d never thought I’d hear from the man but I’m not complaining”

He chuckled and got off the couch and pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead “I might have convinced him a little”

You looked up at him “Jamie what did you do?” “Nothing! Just you know… mild choking”

Your eyes widened as you went to speak before he cut you off “It worked!”

“He could’ve had you arrested!”

“Well it would’ve been worth it because nobody makes my girl cry”

You giggled and leaned up to kiss him gently "I know"

[lubdubsworld]

Akrasia.

Happy Birthday To the Golden Maknae.

Here’s a little treat in lieu of Jungkook’s 24th Birthday!!!

Canon Compliant. 

Jungkook x OC

Word Count : 10K. 

Genre : Mild Angst. ( Happy'Ending) Jungkook X OC

Akrasia (noun) 

PHILOSOPHY    the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgement through weakness of will.

 Getting involved with someone like Jungkook is a bad idea. Do you even realize who he is? How much he’s worth? He’s easily one of the richest men in the country . He’s loved by everyone.

I wrapped the coat around myself, tighter. Everything that Lee Jiae had said was true. She was a popular idol . Someone who would actually make a good match for the Jeon Jungkook.

But even Jiae balked at the idea of going anywhere near someone like him.

Career suicide, she had said firmly. That would be career suicide, Areum. He has fangirls from all over the world. Billions of them. They will dig so deep into my past, find the most innocent of things and twist and turn it and the next thing I know, I’m being kicked out of my band, out of the company and on the streets. I don’t want that. And neither should you.

I shivered a bit. No, I thought honestly. I didn’t want that either. I was far from successful, just an up and coming soloist , with a very very niche fanbase. I did sell a lot of records and I made enough money to live comfortably but I was not a mainstream celebrity. I didn’t register on people’s radar because I stayed far away from the spotlight.

There was something about social media that made it a terrifying thing to me. It was so abstract and unreal and yet…it seemed almost like a sentient being.

A powerful sentient being that could potentially destroy my whole life.

It scared me.

And while Jungkook and BTS had conquered that particular monster, had leashed and saddled the beast and made it their own personal pet…. I didn’t want anything to do with that.

I don’t want that, I told myself firmly. I really don’t want that. I want to stay this way… make music I love… read the few dozen fan handwritten fan letters I received everyday, make the occasional appearance on a magazine cover and then just quietly retreat into my studio. I want this. And if I go anywhere near Jeon Jungkook, I’ll lose this. I’ll lose all of this.

My phone buzzed and I jumped, glancing around nervously. The late October wind was cold but not biting. Winter would come but not for a while. And yet my skin chilled in apprehension. I always felt guilty, picking up one of his calls in public. It felt like I was being watched, like everyone could hear me, on the phone …Could hear who I was talking to.

“Hello.” I whispered nervously, eyes flitting around to find a secluded spot in the park. It was early in the morning, still an hour away from sunrise and I quickly hopped over a small hedgerow and moved into a wooded area, away from the main path that had the occasional cyclist or jogger.

“You didn’t come.” His voice was honey, the way it dripped into my senses and made my breath catch. And yet it was the undercurrent of disappointment that tugged at my heart. Made guilt churn inside me in rapid little currents.

“Yes. Sorry.” I said quietly, picking my way past a few bushes to a bench a little way into the woods. It was rusty and damp because no one came here , and the darkness was absolute, only faintly broken by the dim glow of the streetlights hundred yards away. I settled into the bench nonetheless.

“Areum…. Don’t do this to me.” Jungkook said brokenly and I exhaled.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m being smart. And you should be too. You’re romanticizing something that was just…it was just a conversation. We had a conversation . That’s all that happened.” I said desperately. It was something I’d told myself over an over, these past few weeks. Weeks of avoiding his texts, of ignoring his calls.

Calls from his hyungdeul.

That had given me a whole heart attack.

“You’re just going to ignore me then? Toss my feelings away like they don’t matter?” He asked quietly and my heart clenched.

“You …” I shook my head.” You need to understand something. I’m not going to do this. I can’t afford to. I told you already Jungkook…we spent one evening talking..that’s it…we’re not dating..we don’t know each other well enough for you to be saying that you have feelings for me-“

“And I told you I don’t fucking care. “ He said sharply. “ One day… One hour…who cares? I believe in soulmates. Call me foolish and dumb but I do and when I saw you I felt that. And I know you felt it too.”

My mind flashed back to that evening. It was a private birthday party for a mutual friend. Barely a dozen of us had attended and Jungkook had been sneaking glances at me all evening, completely oblivious to the ay every woman in the room had their gaze glued on him. The party hadn’t been my thing at all and I’d sneaked away to the private terrace, accessible only through a rickety old fire escape and to my utter shock he had followed me up there.

The stars had been exceptionally bright that night,  but with Jungkook sitting on the tiled roof next to me, gazing at me with all that adoration, his doe  eyes had seemed to hold more of them than the night sky.

“What do you want, Jungkook?” I asked quietly.

“I want you. I know you want me. We …we understand each other. I want the same things you do. Do you even fucking realize how rare that is? To find someone who shares the same thoughts, the same dreams as you do? Who looks at the world the way you do… I… I am not foolish enough to think that there’s another girl out there who could connect to me the way you do. You call that a conversation…just a conversation…. Did you forget what kind of a conversation it was?”

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

Three weeks ago  

The party had barely started and I was already itching to run home. There was a particular song lyric , stuck in my head like a loop and I wanted to put it on paper as soon as possible. I had this thing where seeing something on print helped me to elaborate on an idea. Directed my train of thought in that particular direction if you willed.

Mingyu was walking around, talking to his friends and making them laugh with his witty banter but I didn’t miss the way he shot me little glances. I gave him a quick thumbs up though, to let him know I was okay. He was a childhood friend, one of the few people I’d stayed in touch with through the years. And of course, being in the same industry meant a lot of shared interests.

I moved to the side bar with the drinks and appetizers, ordering myself a diet coke before hopping onto one of the stools. I watched the dozen or so people here….His bandmates, some other idols. I recognized Yugyeom from GOT7. They were all dressed in dressy casuals : flashy shirts and tight jeans and racy little dresses and I felt out of place in my long jean skirt and tasseled leather jacket.

Sighing, I turned back to my drink when a commotion near the door made me look up.

I felt my eyes widen when I saw who it was.

The Jeon Jungkook. From BTS.

I stared at him as did pretty much every person in the room.  Jungkook was easily one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life, tall and just…big. I stared at the broad shoulders, the huge arms and the taut line of his abdomen, tapering into a narrow waist and long, long legs with muscular thighs. He was wearing a black shirt, unbuttoned all the way to his chest and skinny blue jeans with black boots.

I smiled, genuinely awed. Jungkook looked every bit like the untouchable superstar he was and I considered that the party hadn’t been a waste after all. The chances of me running into someone like that in person were pretty slim.

Almost at once he was surrounded and I watched as his ears turned red, gaze shifting away and an almost soft shyness in the way he bowed politely . A hesitation to be put on the spot but also a need to stay polite , probably. Laughing a bit , I watched him some more and then his gaze lifted to mine. To my surprise, his eyes went wide in what was clearly recognition.

What.

I watched as he quickly bowed and said something to the people around him before picking his way to me. My entire body went taut with surprise.

“Lee Areum ssi…” He stuttered, eyes wide and I could only gape. “ I’m a huge fan.”

I blinked.

What.

What.

“You know who I am?” I asked , mildly horrified and he laughed nervously, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his palm across his nose before laughing a little.

“Your voice is just… something about your songs…they help me sleep when I’m too exhausted to relax.” He said softly and I felt warmth pool inside me.

“Too exhausted too sleep. That doesn’t sounf good...”

Jungkook chuckled.

“Its not. It usually happens when we’re preparing for a comeback. It different with concerts you know…we’re exhausted because we’ve been running around …singing…its all physical…mostly. And that’s easy to brush aside and sleep. But comebacks…there’s that nervousness. The worry that things may not be as good as they were. Constantly having to keep up to standards. “ He shook his head. “ it can get exhausting.”

It was something deep and oddly tragic and I was stunned that he’d shared something so… personal. To a literal stranger. But the urge to soothe..to comfort and reassure him in some way was over powering.

Instinctively, I leaned closer and lightly touched his forearm .

“But you are the standard, now, Jungkook ssi. What BTS has done, others can only dream of reaching. You’ve brought this….utopian idea that you can love yourself just the way you are… and that’s amazing. I understand the need to meet expectation but I think you’ve earned the right to sleep without being burdened by them.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, staring into my eyes and I felt my pulse kick up a notch, my eyes taking in the beautiful features and my throat went dry when his gaze dropped to where my fingers lightly brushed the soft fabric of his shirt sleeve.  

“Oppa…Let’s dance.” A shrill voice behind him made us both jump and I quickly pulled my hand away. Panicking, I turned away from him fully, ducking my head so my hair could cover my face. There was a dull roaring in my head, making it hard to hear what he was saying but a second later he moved away from the bar and I exhaled sharply.

Shaking I turned back to my drink.

Another twenty minutes of trying to avoid looking at Jungkook, I gave up. This wasn’t my kind of place at all and after a quick word with Mingyu, I moved to the small balcony in the side, desperate for some fresh air. But the moment I stepped out, my eyes fell on the rickety ladder like stairs, rusty and clearly a death trap. I quickly moved to the ledge and peered up at the roof. It was a little inclined but nothing dangerous. And there was a barricade that would break my fall, just in case I slipped.

Thrilled at the prospect of doing something that was both foolish and fancy free, I quickly, climbed on to the ladder, climbing all the way over to the top and throwing my legs over the iron railing before carefully walking overt to the center of the roof. Grinning to myself, I settled on the slightly damp tiles.

“You’re lucky the ladder didn’t break .” Jungkook’s voice made me yelp and I stared as he quickly jumped over the railing himself, grinning and wiping his hands on his thighs.

“Oh my god, people are going to find us here!” I hissed, terrified and he laughed.

“Don’t worry. I told them I’m going home.”

“You lied?” I shook my head in disbelief and Jungkook hummed.

“Did I?” He pretended to think. “ Doesn’t feel like I did.”

It took me a few seconds for the implication to sink in.

I looked away, blushing a bit.

“Did I come on too strong?” He moved to sit next to me, just a foot away.

I shook my head.

“No. I’m just.. I didn’t expect you to know me. We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“There’s a very cliché line in my head about how you’ve been running in circles in my head for a long time but I’ll save that for our first date.” He said with a laugh and I blushed deeper.

“Date?” I shook my head, “ That’s not funny.”

“Good. Because it wasn’t a joke. Let me take you out to dinner sometime.”

I stared at him, trying to look for the punchline because even if he denied it, it was still laughable. The mere idea of it.

“Don’t turn me down Areum ssi.” He said softly and I swallowed.

“I won’t if you take it back.” I said quietly.

He sighed.

“Then…when you sang about wanting to give love a chance…wanting to free fall for once without worrying about the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, wanting to soar into the sky without thinking of the ropes trying to tether you to the ground….were you joking?”

I gaped at him.

“that’s.. those are… Those are lines from before my debut.” I said shakily.

“Like I said… I’ve been a fan for a long time.” Jungkook whispered.

The night was magical. Cool and refreshing and the night sky was resplendent, the lack of clouds offering a stellar view of the stars and yet, I found myself drawn to the galaxies swirling in his doe eyes. The strong nose and the cherry red lips, now being worried between slightly large front teeth as he stared at me with all the nervousness of a young boy.

But he wasn’t a boy. He was a man.

And this wasn’t a love song.

This was real life.

“Free falling is fun when you don’t know what you’re falling into. But when you do know that there’s a lot of pain at the end of the fall, its not something you want to experience.”

“Areum…”

“I’m flattered.” I said quickly. “ Beyond flattered…really. But… I can’t.”

“Okay. But don’t leave. Stay here with me.. for a while. Let’s talk.” He said quickly.

Jungkook was handsome and the night was still young. This maybe the last time I would ever see him and I was honest. It was flattering, receiving attention from someone like that.

I hesitated before sighing and nodding.

“Okay…let’s talk.” I smiled, throwing caution to the winds.

And talk we did. About everything and nothing. As the night grew darker, Jungkook relaxed next to me, laughing as he shared anecdotes about his members, about his family, about his brother. And then naturally about how successful they were these days and Jungkook told me that there was always a downside to fame but he enjoyed the love he received. That he loved his fans for how they treated him and his brothers.

“Fame comes with a price but it’s a small price to pay…being loved for what I do..being accepted the way I am…it feels good.” He said quietly.

“It’s not always that way though.” I pointed out honestly. “ You guys are … I won’t say lucky because you’ve definitely worked hard but you’ve been more fortunate than the rest. Sometimes the spotlight can be a terrifying place to be.”

“you forget that we were once one of the most hated idols in the country..” He laughed. “ Trust me I know.”

“I didn’t know about you guys till you got on the Billboard. And you’re an amazing singer as well.” I said softly.

He grinned , playing with the bracelets on his wrist.

“Thank you.” He said sweetly.

We stayed quiet for a few seconds, staring up at the sky.

“I’ve never been attracted to fame.” I told him honestly.” Of course it holds its charms I suppose but I’ve always preferred the quiet of being obscure, you know. Like this secret that only a few get to learn in their lifetime.” I laughed. “ A hidden treasure maybe? Its why I started a Youtube channel instead of auditioning. Because only people who genuinely liked my music would get more of me. ” I smiled.

Jungkook hummed.

“When you first started singing your own songs on your YouTube channel? It was kind of around the same time we won our first daesang…” He smiled. “ In the MMA.”

“Oh…Really?” I asked surprised. That was nearly five years ago.

“Yeah. And till then..it was just your voice that I got to hear. You talked a bit but mostly it was just you covering someone else’s songs. And well, after we won the daesang I felt …lonely? Kind of? Scared maybe. And then you sang, ‘ White Dove’ a couple of days later and the lyrics…they just resonated with me you know. It made me feel like I knew you… Like you were a friend.”

I swallowed.

“I..thank you.” I whispered quietly, staring at my hands.

“And when you refused to sign with SM or YG. You also refused to monetize your videos on Youtube. You said your voice was your gift and you didn’t want to make money from something you’d received for free yourself. That …I loved that.”

“You’re like that too. You post your covers and songs on soundcloud for free as well.” I said quietly and he smiled.

“Like I said…we have a lot in common.” He smiled.

I smiled, shaking my head.

“I envy you.” He said quietly and I glanced at him.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just… You’re so untouched by all this. By me. It may sound incredibly narcissistic but people swoon when they see me for the first time but…you’re just you…. And that just makes me remember that you’re amazing and beautiful and you have such beautiful mind and you’re just… you’re so far out of my league. You’re so content with what you have and I wish I could be that way….But I …I can’t help but be greedy.”

“Greedy?”

“To do more. To want more. I know I should be happy that I even got to meet you . I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in these two hours , sitting here talking to you. But I’m still greedy for more.” He stared at me with an intensity that was electric.

“More what?” I laughed.

“More of this. More of you. More of you and me together. More of us.”

“Us?” I laughed, shaking my head. “ There’s no us , Mr. Jungkook . you need to forget about that.”

“ I don’t think I can.” He said suddenly.

I felt the smile fade from my face.

“Jungkook.”

“Your song … Utopia… where you write about your idea of the perfect world. I… I loved it.” He said shakily.

“Jungkook , wait…”

“All of these days, when I listened to your songs, I would make it personal.. It would be about how those words applied to my life but with Utopia… that world you talk about …where you can be yourself, where you can sing whatever you want, be whoever you want…. When I heard that song…it became about you. About us.. I… that world you dream of.. I want to give that to you.”

My jaw dropped and I exhaled in disbelief.

“Do you realize how ridiculous that is? Your fans…our companies… Everyone will lose their minds.” I whispered, horrified.

He nodded.

“I know. I know I shouldn’t ask you this. Because it goes against my better judgement. But I can’t help. I still want to choose this. Choose you. So if there’s a word for that.. That is how I feel.”

“I.. I should go.” I said nervously, making to move but he reached out an gently gripped my wrist.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” He asked quietly and I shook my head.

“No.. I don’t.” I said quietly.

“Good. Because neither do I. But I do believe in people who can understand you better than anyone else can. Just give me a chance. One date.”

I stayed quiet staring at my feet. There was so much to consider but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him and say no. He looked so hopeful.

“I’m busy for a couple of weeks. But there’s a beautiful terrace restaurant in Itaewon that I know. We’ll have complete privacy . I’ll get my chauffeur to pick you up. No one ill know. I just want to spend some time with you over dinner and if you have a good time….. we can meet again.”

And then what?

“I…I’ll try. But I can’t promise anything.“ I said honestly.

“That’s good enough for me. Can I have your number at least?” He asked finally.

I nodded and quietly put it into his phone.

“I’ll make the reservation and send you the details. And Areum?”

I glanced up at him.

“I’ve been free falling since I met you.”

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

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply.

“I do.” I said quietly. “ I do remember.”

“I haven’t stopped falling. I keep listening to your songs on loop… Because I can’t bear the thought of being away from you , of not being connected to you in some way…”

“You’re so .. you’re so intense.” I whispered shakily and he laughed.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. It’s just the way I am… I’m here you know. The restaurant I told you about. And my chauffeur is at your home. But he told me he couldn’t find you. It’s the middle of the night . where are you?”

I sighed.

“In the park opposite my house.”

Jungkook didn’t respond for a second.

“Do you want me to ask him to leave?” He asked quietly.

I took a deep breath.

“ Akrasia. “ I breathed out nervously.

“What…”

“its when someone makes a decision…against their better judgement.” I laughed nervously. “When we had that conversation , you asked me if there was a word for it. For acting against your better judgement. Akrasia is the word you’re looking for .”

He stayed quiet on the other end.

“Okay.” He said finally. “ Well, are you going to be akratic with me?” he said finally.

“Ask your driver to leave for now. And come meet me in my apartment tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.”

Jungkook didn’t respond.

“That way we’ll have more privacy.” I said softly.

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

Dating Jungkook was a lot of pain. Just as I’d anticipated. It was sitting by and watching him work himself down to the bone. It was watching people throw themselves at him and not being able to say a word. To the world he was single. And the number of women who called and hounded him was unnatural.

And he worked so hard that my heart ached for him.

One night, he missed dinner and I couldn’t reach him on the phone. I stayed up , sitting on my bed, waiting.

He came back at exactly at three in the morning. He didn't turn on the light but the moonlight through the window was sufficient to let me know that he looked terrible. i watched him shrug out of his jacket, leaning against the table , long legs crossed and crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He tugged at his tie with a sort of tired , half hearted gesture and i smiled.

i watched him for sometime, seeing him shrug out of his shirt and change into a simple white t shirt. He moved with a sort of graceful strength. Like every single cell of his body had the same confidence that he did. 

It was like a dream, i realized as another dull ache of pain twisted my heart. It was like i'd slept and woken up in someone else's dream. A dream where it was okay for me to look at him and feel things for him , without fighting to convince herself that it was dangerous. That it was going to end in heartbreak.  

As i watched him prepare for bed, i wondered when I had started falling so hard.  

The sound of the door closing, made me look up , shaken out of my thoughts. Jungkook was locking the door behind him. 

When he moved to the bed, i decided to let him know that i was awake. 

"You're back?" i said softly. 

He hesitated, clearly startled , before smiling at me. It was a weak smile, one that practically screamed exhaustion and i sat up straighter,  watching as he moved to me side and gently stroked me hair. 

"Why aren't you asleep?" He smiled. 

"I was waiting for you." i said honestly holding my hand out and he took it, kissing it obediently. 

"you'll have to wait longer, I'm afraid. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with PDnim and I still haven't prepped for it. I need to get an hour's sleep and get back to work. " Up close he looked so tired that i felt my heart clench in panic. 

"You don't look good." i said, alarmed as i realized that his skin had a distinctively grayish tinge to it.

"Comeback times are always that way. Never good for my health." He said teasingly. He checked his phone messages before turning to me and smiling.  

"I see you've been cutting back on the pain killers... are you feeling better than?" He asked. I’d been down with some menstrual cramps earlier and I was touched that he remembered, even in the mess of his schedule.

"I wish you wouldn't change the topic everytime I try to show concern for you."  i said , a little bit annoyed. He grinned and touched my cheek with his forefinger. 

"Just the fact that you are concerned is enough for me . anything more and I might die of happiness. you don't want that do you?" He winked. 

Deciding that it was impossible to talk with the man, i asked him if he wanted something to drink. 

He shook his head and climbed in next to me but before laying down, he turned to me. 

He hesitated. 

"Will you lend me your shoulder for the night?" He said softly , placing his hand there. 

i sighed as he leaned against me . His skin felt warm against me, his hair lightly tickling me cheekbones and i threaded me finger through the silky strands. 

In just a few seconds, he was fast asleep. 

I stayed awake, watching the room grow steadily brighter, the weak winter sun gently finding its way into the room , much like the way the man in my arms was gently finding his way into my heart.

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

"We should get a house, don't you think?" i said two months later, sitting up in bed , eating dinner while i watched him work on his files. He'd placed the desk in the far corner of the room, giving me the perfect view. And i was beginning to enjoy it a lot more than the one i could see out the window. 

" A house? " Jungkook stopped and looked up. " You want to live with me ? Just the two of us?" He smiled.

Well, when he put it that way. I balked and ducked my head. 

"It's too soon isn't it..I'm sorry I don't know why I..."

"What kind of a house would you prefer? Flat? Penthouse? Apartment? Duplex? Tell me....I'll get you the listings and you can pick out the ones you like . When you get better we can go pick one out." He grinned at me and i relaxed against the pillows , while he went back to his files. 

"I read something online…” i said casually . He didn't look up, merely humming to acknowledge that he'd heard me. 

"Did you date Lee Hyeri ?" i finally said. He stopped and looked at me. 

"Yes. Many months ago. I broke up with her because I wasn’t feeling anything serious and I didn’t want to lead her one. She didn’t take it very well. ." He said softly, moving towards the bed and sitting on the edge. As was his habit, he reached for my hand, holding it in his and tracing circles with his thumb.

“She called me.” I said quietly and he stiffened.

“Shit.”

I laughed.

“She wanted to meet me . Wanted to talk about something although I have an idea what. I’m not going to indulge her though.”

“If she calls again, you should tell her that her obsession is bordering on stalking and I’m on the verge of getting a restraining order. She turned up at my studio too. Went on an on about how I broke her heart and cheated on her . ”

 i hesitated , looking away from him and smiling. 

"I don't know . Should I?" i shook my head. i hesitated, pulling my hand away from him. "What else did she say?" i said suddenly, remembering how angry she had sounded on the phone.

"Nothing, you need to worry about. Are you done with this? Shall I clean it up?" He reached for my dinner tray and i grabbed his wrist. 

"where are you going?  You should tell me what she said." i protested, but he gently pried my fingers off before dropping a kiss on me forehead .

"And You should tell me when you're going to start staying over at my apartment.. It's going to snow in a few days. Or so they say. I thought you might like to enjoy the first snow with me..." He smiled . 

I took the subtle hint to drop the subject.

"You're being too wonderful. It makes my heart ache." i snuggled into my bed and pouted at him. He laughed at that. 

"Take rest. I have a meeting right now. I'll be back late so you should sleep." 

I watched him leave, feeling oddly bereft. I was growing to love him deeply.

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

As with every couple in the world, our fights were often over the silliest things.

"You're still angry." I said casually, watching him work on his documents, the low burning desk light setting his features in sharp relief. He looked at me for a second and shook his head.

"I'm not angry , Areum. I'm busy. There is a difference." He said with a sigh, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye. I watched the gesture and sat up straighter in bed, leaning over the side to stare at the clock there. It read 1.15 Am.

"It's snowing." I said softly, getting one my knees and peering out the windows. Through the haze of moonlight, I watched the small flakes drift down over the neatly cut hedgerows, making each segment of the garden look like neat cut slices of cake with vanilla cream frosting. I grinned at the little wisps of cotton white snow, clinging to each little branch on the trees and felt my heart swell with joy. 

"I suppose you're too busy to make good on your promise." I said naughtily, peering over my shoulder to glance at him. 

"Promise?"

"That you'll walk with me , in the first snow." I said, turning around and getting out of bed, slipping my feet into my fur slippers. I watched him fight with himself , the emotions warring across his handsome face and held my breath.

finally he sighed and stood up. I tried to keep the triumphant grin off my face and failed miserably. I felt awful, because deep down I had known that no matter how angry or upset he was, Jungkook would never break a promise. And I'd worded my request that way, just to take advantage of that little chink of honor that he always lived by. 

"Alright then. Let's go take a walk in the first snow." He said softly.

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

"You love snow."

"How did you know that?" I said surprised, lightly grabbing the low lying branch till it showered both of us with soft white flakes. 

"You make these little sounds , everytime you see  snow. I've noticed it from the time we met." Jungkook grinned . 

I laughed and turned away. I felt like I was standing in the middle of a fairytale, the white landscape making me feel like some exotic Ice Queen. I walked ahead of him, running a few steps till I was about ten feet ahead of him. I turned around, facing him as I walked backwards. He laughed at that. 

"Be careful. The snow looks soft but the fall will hurt." He warned me, putting his hands in his pockets and narrowing his shoulders to fight the chill. I smiled and shook my head.

"I want to look at you and make sure that you're not angry with me anymore." I said, enjoying the way he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not angry. I told you that."

"Yes. You did. But i didn't tell you I'm sorry, did I?" I said softly, stopping in my tracks and watching as he drew closer. Jungkook gave me a curious glance, walking slowly till he was just in front of me.

"I'm sorry I said I'll leave you." I said honestly. He looked surprised but smiled nonetheless.

"Duly noted." He bowed his head, tipping an imaginary hat at me. Smiling, I turned around I ran a few more steps and instinctively knelt on the ground

"Don't ." He said suddenly. 

I  looked up from where I was gathering a handful of snow. I gave him an innocent smile. 

"What?" 

"I know what you're thinking. don't do it." He said, taking a step back. I felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through me, realizing that the big bad wolf was actually scared of being hit by a snowball. 

"You should know why I like snow so much.." I grinned with mischief and he gave me a look of disbelief.

"I don't think you can hit me. You're forgetting that i'm an expert at taekwondo.”

I held my hand up and threw , cursing when he casually stepped out of the way, laughing at the look on my face. 

"You have to concentrate on what you're doing. Anticipate my next move and react accordingly." He advised, bending down to get some snow for himself. 

"React to this!!" I grabbed two handfuls of snow and ran straight at him, grinning as I leapt on him.

We landed on the snow, Jungkook  on his back and I right on top of him, laughing as I smeared the snow on his face. He spluttered in disbelief and swiftly, threw his weight over, pinning me to the ground and straddling me, fingers swiftly grabbing my wrists and pushing my hands over my head, leaving me vulnerable and helpless, as he shook his head , showering me with ice cold flakes. 

I squeaked in surprise and he laughed hard.

Watching him laugh, full and open , I realized that I'd never watched him laugh that way before.

He looked exhilarated. 

Yanking my hand out of his grasp, I grabbed his collar, pulling him down for a kiss. 

the first touch of his lips to mine, felt like the sweetest, coolest sip of crystal waters after a lifelong thirst . 

I sank into the snow, sighing into the sweetness and the gentle pressure of his lips against me, the first touch of his tongue, making heat seep through my body, despite the cold. I curled my fingers into the fur near his neck, smiling into the kiss as he slipped one hand into my hair, gently tilting my head for better access. 

He kissed me softly. He kissed me deeply.

He kissed me like that was what he'd been put on the earth to do. 

But mostly he kissed me like that was all he wanted .

It was so absurdly romantic that I wanted to laugh .

I could catch whiffs of his scent, even though my eyes were watering and mey nose felt like it was running. Some elusive cologne mixed with the scent of  clean male skin . It made me heat up in ways that curled my toes in my fur boots. Each little kiss lasted a little longer than the one before, till I was certain that I was going to melt into the snow. And each little breath felt like a little wisp of my soul leaving my body and mingling with his. 

We kissed and kissed and kissed, while the snow fell in white flakes around us .

First Snow. first kiss, I thought happily. 

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

After our little episode in the garden, I found that I felt something akin to desperation everytime I came in contact with Jungkook.

It's not that I woke up one day and realized that something had changed in the way I watched Jungkook.

. That my eyes lingered, not just on his face but on the curve of his lips, the edge of his jaw, the exposed skin of his neck. My fingers wanted to reach out and  grip, not just the strength of his shoulders and the slender digits of his hand but also his lean waist.

I began losing my mind, slowly and painfully. Suffocating when Jungkook got too close , choking when he went away too far.

As they spent time together, Jungkook began touching me.

. Not too often and never in an intrusive way , but every time his fingers traced the back of my palm or brushed back my hair, my  throat went dry and my heart stopped pumping blood and I felt like like a fool because I had no idea if Jungkook felt half of what I was feeling.

In fact I was certain that Jungkook didn’t feel anything at all.

What I was feeling was painful and confusing and if Jungkook felt any of it, he would be running as far away from me as possible, not moving closer and closer.

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

“Why are you so nervous?” Jungkook laughed and I bit my nails nervously, glancing around the reception hesitantly. The workers were all busy, no one spared us so much as a glance but I couldn’t help but feel terrified.

“It’s only us here? For the whole weekend? No one else?” I asked again for the hundredth time.

Jungkook groaned, shaking his head and ignoring me, holding his hand out for the keys to our cottage. I yelped a bit when he began walking away without waiting for me, running to keep up with his long strides.

“Sorry…I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” I said quietly, slipping my hand into his, linking our fingers together and smiling a little.

He squeezed my hand gently before pulling away to wrap me in a one armed huge, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“I booked the entire resort for the weekend. The staff have all signed a confidentiality agreement. No one is going to know we’re here. You can be as loud as you want.” He whispered and I yelped, hitting his chest,” let me finish….” He laughed. “ When you yell at me. You can be as loud as you want when you yell at me.”

“You’re a terrible person.” I whispered , burying my face into his arm in mortification.

Jungkook merely laughed .

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

"You seem tense." He said that evening, as the pair of us sat on the back deck , glasses of bubble tea in hand , watching the waves break out on the rocks. Slow but persistent , gradually breaking the rock's resistance and carving its way into its heart.

"Can we ever …truly be relaxed ?" I asked , a little bit of desperation in my tone. Jungkook didn’t turn to look at me . Instead he took a picture of the rocks and the sea with his phone.

"That's a pretty loaded question. With a lot of answers."

I stared  at him, wondering why I was more confused now than before.

"Sometimes I can't understand you at all." I said quietly, shaking my head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” He said softly.

I hesitated before nodding.

“That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

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

The boys dropped by for a visit the next day.

I sat down on the open deck, opposite Namjoon for a game of chess. Jungkook slid into the armchair next to me.

"Are you winning?" Jungkook asked quietly and I shot  him a glare, which gets a smile in return promptly. It was like he always knew what to say , how to manipulate my thoughts and emotions, how to make me look and feel a certain way , just so he could steal that part of mr away.

How evil.

At first I didn’t  notice that he was sitting a bit too close for comfort, because as such, we've lived on top of each other for quite a while now. But after a while I became  aware of the warmth of his thigh, solid and strong against my own, evident even through the layers of jean separating them.

I  tried to move away, surreptitiously, but Jungkook only moved closer.

"Try this."

His fingers fluttered over my thigh, intentionally or not I would never know, reaching for my queen and I tried not to jump out of my skin, gritting my teeth as my muscles stiffened, my nerves tingling like electric.

I licked my lips and Jungkook’s  eyes flickered up at the movement, a gentle smile tugging at his lips and my gut clenched in embarrassment. But the brunette moved even closer, his bare arm now brushing against mine  and I had to swallow the desperate urge to get up and just run.

"Well, this is entertaining." Namjoon said suddenly and i looks at my opponent for the first time since Jungkook’s  arrival. Namjoon was leaning back in his armchair, amusement shining out of his eyes .

I scrambled  in a bid to put space between Jungkook and I and failed miserably.

"He's just helping me with chess." I said desperately.

"Oh, is that what they call it these days?" Namjoon leaned forward looking very intrigued.

Jungkook reached out and clonked him on the head but his eyes were laughing and I wondered how this was going to end. I wanted it. Wanted to take that final step with Jungkook but I was also so , so scared.

Would it change things. For the better? For worse?

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

Jungkook, I soon realized, took the way I was shying away from him , as some sort of a twisted challenge to get closer than ever. The more I moved away, the closer Jungkook gets , touching me in gentle intimate little touches and every time he did,  a slow simmering fire started at the pit of my stomach, reaching out in gentle upward licks , drying my throat and turning my insides into molten goo.

She's almost tempted to ask Jungkook if he feels the same way but she's saved the trouble later that week.

"I want you."

I froze on the spot, fingers stopping in mid air, inches from picking up a slice of apple, neatly placed on the tray. We were in the dining room,  Jungkook sitting with a set of files spread out in front of him and me with a knife and a few uncut apples in a basket.

"You..what?" I squeaked.

" I'm attracted to you and I really want to have sex with you." Jungkook said  , almost carefully.

Like he was announcing the weather. Like his words weren’t carefully calculated to turn my world upside down.

"Alright. " I whispered, not even sure what else I could say to that.

I stole a glance at Jungkook who was grinning from ear to ear. I felt blush rushing up my body, the blood flooding my face so quick it made me dizzy..

"Don't .. Don't look at me like that." I whispered, mortified to sound like a sixteen year old girl.

"Do you want me to leave now?" Jungkook reached out , placing a soft hand on my palm and it took all my  willpower not to grab Jungkook and hug him. Instead I managed a weak smile. My mind was a few seconds away from collapsing in on itself and I was too stunnedto think straight.

So I answered the question at face value.

"No, I don't want you to leave now. "

"Okay. Go ahead, eat your fruit. It's good for you."

Jungkook smiled again, serene and perfectly at peace with the world.

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

At eleven thirty on Saturday night, both Jungkook and I sneaked out of the hotel, arms laden with our picnic basket and coats draped over our shoulders. Once we reached  large pond in the outer edge of the property, Jungkook made quick work of the blanket, spreading it out on the artificial lawn that surrounded it.

I settled down on it, reaching out and dipping my legs in the water. It's a bit chilly but only for a second. I wriggled my toes playfully and Jungkook slipped a bit closer to me, letting his foot sink in next to mine.

We played around for a while, splashing water on each other and then I pulled my legs out.

"You okay?" Jungkook asked softly and I turned around to stare at him , a little apprehensive. There are so many things wrong with this , a part of me screams. But there's a part of me that longs, so badly , for this simplicity. Longs and has longed, all my life. Just this, the chance to relax and be myself and play around with water in the moonlight.

"I'm not sure." I admitted, honestly.

"Tell me. " Jungkook said and for once his voice isn't relaxed. Instead it's a bit urgent and anxious.

"We're not... I’m so scared that we'll never make it, you know." I sighed, dipping my legs back into the water, just as Jungkook pulled his out.

"Why? Because of the media ?" There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice and I hated myself for bringing this up. We were supposed to be spending time together, enjoying each other’s company. I wasn’t sup[posed to be ruining the mood like this.

"It's nothing. I just.. I don't want you to get hurt." I said honestly.

"Because of you? Because I'm with you?" Jungkook's voice was lot softer now, the bitterness replaced by concern.

"I.. Yes.. I mean... I'm.."

"You're a gorgeous young woman who is intelligent and charming. Why would I ever give you up?" Jungkook asked, reaching out and wrapping an arm around my shoulder but I couldn’t help but sigh.

"That's.. that's not what everyone else thinks." I reminded him. “ And that not what they’ll say, if you ever tell them the truth about us.”

"No it isn't. And I won't say something stupid like , it doesn't matter what others think. Because it does, I know it does. And it's going to hurt. In fact I think it would hurt you a lot more than it would hurt me. But if I don't... If I don't take a chance with us... that's going to hurt me too. So its a choice. I can either  choose to get hurt by people I don't give a damn about , and in return I get... get to be with someone I really...like…..

"Or, I give up the woman I love and get hurt by my own decision. " Jungkook finished.

"We hurt either way." I smiled bitterly, Jungkook's words making a lot of sense.

"Yes. All you need to choose is , what's worth the hurt? Being with me, or society's approval?" Jungkook leaned forward slightly and I blinked.

We stayed that way staring at each other for a second and then he pulled away and sighed deeply.

"I've already chosen, I. I'm not pushing you, but I hope you'll pick me." He said quietly.

I stared into the night, thoughtfully. So easy, I told myself. So easy to turn around right now and kiss Jungkook, tell him that I didn’t deserve so much happiness. That my heart was so light, I wanted to spout wings and fly.

So easy but so frightening.

The wind picked up somewhere and somehow a draught found its way inside and I shivered a little, only to have a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulder. Jungkook snuggled in with me and we huddled together

My thoughts tripped over each other  and I wanted to run away but I stayed still, letting the gentle lap of the water against my toe, calm my inner turmoil.

"It's just you and me." Jungkook whispered, " Right now. Just you and me. Let's pretend we're the only ones on the planet."

I turned around to the brunette in surprise but Jungkook's looking out into the water, lit by a full moon from the skylight.

"Just you and me. " He said absently and I nodded, looping my fingers with Jungkook's. We sat in silence, pressed against each other and I waited till the moon slipped behind a cloud before turning around, slightly, and pressing my lips against Jungkook's.

It's soft and very short, over before it even begins and Jungkook smiled into the kiss.

  Explicit Content : 

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

Jungkook teasingly pushes her back and Areum falls back against the soft mattress, like she's been shoved. She melts into the kiss and then Jungkook’s lips move away, dragging his teeth and tongue over the exposed expanse of her neck, lightly sucking and biting and then soothing with his tongue. Areum gasps and struggles and fights for air, before dragging their lips together again.

Jungkook kisses her until she's splayed flat against the bed, eyes wide and lost and lips parted, blush staining her cheeks and then Jungkook's reaching out to the table and pulling his camera , snapping a picture.

"You're such a weirdo!" Areum laughs , too turned on to be annoyed.

"No, just a man. A man in love." Jungkook leans down, pushing his hips down into hers and she gasps at the friction. They make quick work of their jeans and suddenly its skin on skin and she's not sure if she's doing this right.

"Jungkook.. I..I.."

"Hey, relax. I got you." Jungkook holds her close, just holding her, cradling her almost and the familiar words smooth away her apprehensions and he's moving closer, trying to pull more sounds out of her, his lips tracing the line of her chest, tongue swirling around one nipple before moving down and down, dipping lightly into her belly button.

And then the camera is tossed to the side, Jungkook flipping them over with ease , his lips moving down , tongue dipping into the curve of her waist down and then further down , lightly licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves near her center and Areum's pretty certain she loses her mind at that point.

"You're amazing." He whispers, and she nearly flies off the bed when Jungkook slides a single digit in, slowly , so slowly. She’s wet and ready but her body is still stuck in auto pilot and she wants to close her legs instinctively.

"Relax for me." Jungkook whispers, lips close to her ear, licking and teasing .

"I'll make it good. Just relax for me." Jungkook says again,  gently, lapping at her neck and Areum unclenches her thighs letting him work his way in, sighing when the slide becomes a little more easy and a little more familiar.

"So beautiful." Jungkook whispers and Areum laughs, shaking her head.

"It's dark, you can't even see-"

"I can’t see but I can feel you. i can feel you and you’re so fucking gorgeous." He slips another finger in and curls his fingers against the walls of her insides and the gentle press of the pad of his finger is too much and not enough , all at once. Her head falls back into the pillow, all coherency leaving her body in a single whoosh of breath.

"Look at me. Only me." She whispers when Jungkook thrusts into her for the first time and Jungkook nods shakily and he pushes in, leaving her trembling at the ache and the pain and wanting to cry out, but she swallows it all down because she knows it’s going to get better .

"Don't wander off. " Areum whispers, pulling him down for a kiss and Jungkook pushes in deeper, earning a gasp. He wishes he could explain, that he can't ever think of anything but her because she is the perfect dream.

“I love this. I love you. “ she whispered and he had to physically restrain himself from burying himself to the hilt inside her. Her body was still getting used to him. He didn’t want to hurt her but God, she felt so amazing around him. the heat and wetness driving him crazy in a way that couldn’t be explained.

“Hold me tight.”

And she did.

With her arms and her legs and her body and her.....everything.

When she clenched around him, his mind went blissfully blank, her orgasm hitting him like an earth shattering, bone melting , heart stopping explosion of bliss.  

He fell against her, careful not to crush her with his weight and rolled to the side gathering her close.

Someday he would hurt her, he was sure of it. He was an idiot after all and he knew he would find a way to muck this up and ruin it for them but for now, he wasn’t going to think about any of that.

For now, he was going to enjoy the intimacy of making love to the woman he loved.

 Author’s Note : Hope you guys liked it! it was supposed to be very angsty but its really not lol....

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

[yslkook]

WRONG (3)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you find yourself at the tattoo parlor more often as of late. also, jungkook hates lemon jelly filled donuts and is easily bribed by mint chocolate and macarons. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Sora’s unbridled passion for why she believes Jungkook is wrong for you has never irritated you as much as it does in this moment. You’ll never understand why she’s so adamant about the topic, when it’s not her decision. When she knows that you’ve been harboring a small crush on the man for years now, and you’re fairly certain he returns your affections.

When the man told you that he had put an orange heart next to your name, you knew it was real.

You don’t understand why Sora is determined to make things so complicated, when they don’t have to be. You don’t believe her claims that he’s a fuckboy, that he treats people like trash. He’s shown you the opposite. He’s so gentle with everyone, not just you. He’s blunt but he has a big heart under all of the leather and layers of black.

If there’s a word to describe him, it’s dreamy.

Which is why you’re so hurt that Sora refuses to give him a chance. After all, if she was your best friend, shouldn’t she offer him a chance for your sake?

It confuses you.

“I’ve heard so many bad things about him,” Sora says knowingly, swirling her glass of wine in her hands. You don’t feel very much like drinking, not when your stomach swirls in unease. Being in her apartment is nothing new, but right now, you’d rather be anywhere else.

“But what things? And from who? Jungkook is such a genuine guy and he hasn’t done anything for people to start rumors about him,” You protest, but your words fall on deaf ears, “And I like him-”

“I mean come on, have you seen him? The man radiates bad vibes. My friends have all said-”

“Bad vibes? You’re dismissing him because of bad vibes when I’m telling you that-”

“I’m your best friend, don’t you think I know these things?” Sora says, heat and arrogance in her voice, “I’m only looking out for you. It’s shitty that you’re dismissing me for a guy-”

“I’m not dismissing you-” But your voice grows smaller and smaller, something that you think Jungkook might be disappointed in you for.

“It sure as hell sounds like you are,” Sora sneers with a cold sort of tilt to her lips, “Listen. I’m just looking out for you, even if you don’t seem to appreciate it. I thought we were best friends. Friends look out for each other, but if you don’t want to listen to me, that’s on you.”

Something dry settles in your throat and something heavy settles in your chest.

“He’s not good news,” Sora continues, as if she can’t see your heart beginning to ache, “I’ll find someone who will treat you much better, don’t worry.” She pats your knee in a way that is supposed to be reassuring but you wince.

You don’t want her favors, but it’s too late for you to protest. Besides if you did, she’d feel awful and you never want to be the cause of her being upset. She’s your best friend after all. And what kind of friend would you be, if you upset her to that degree?

But still... you don’t want anyone else. You want the sensitive man who gets misty-eyed by powerful renditions of Beyonce songs, the man who texts you until you fall asleep, the man who asks you what color to paint his nails when he feels like it.

You kind of want the sensitive man dressed in layers of black.

You let Sora talk your ear off about all of the guys she has in mind for you, but you stop listening. You don’t understand this vendetta she has against Jungkook, the vendetta that she’s always had. But she is correct about one thing- she is your best friend and has your best interests at heart...right?

The four walls of the tattoo parlor that you’ve begun frequenting more and more often begins to feel more and more like a welcome place in recent days. You’ve always been friendly with the guys, especially Yoongi and Hoseok.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t work at the parlor, he’s here frequently enough.

Though Yoongi and Hoseok are some of your oldest friends, you’ve only come to the parlor a handful of times in the past. Once that realization hit you, you’d made it a point to stop by more often.

Why hadn’t you before?

They’re your oldest friends, but these days, you feel closer to Mina and Mei as well. While you do have other girlfriends who you see as often as your collective schedules align, it’s still different.

But still. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly belonged with anyone. You feel as if you’ve been floating through life, with Sora by your side (at least half the time, when she’s not spewing criticism over the man you have feelings for).

Thinking about it gives you a headache and makes you feel nostalgic for something that you never had. But maybe it’s something you can have.

“Hey, you,” Mei calls from reception, where she’s sitting next to Hobi who waves at you, “What brings you here? Finally gonna let me pierce you?”

“I brought donuts,” You shrug, “And I’m not ready for that surgical instrument to touch me, thanks very much.”

“You can stop by without the pretense of bringing sweet treats over,” Hobi says knowingly, “I mean none of us will complain about donuts, but you know that right? You can come by anytime you want.”

“O-okay,” You nod, your throat feeling a little dry.

“Now, come here and let me see what you got. If there’s a lemon jelly filled donut, save that for Jungkook. He hates them.”

“You got plans this evening?” Mei asks, grabbing her bright red purse that’s nearly the size of your head. Her purse matches her bright red nails and for half a second, you’re mesmerized by the glossiness of her nails.

“No, other than getting ready for tomorrow’s day of work-”

“Great! Wanna come with me to the tattoo supply store? I have to pick up more needles, grips and gloves.”

“Sure,” You shrug, a little excited at the prospect of a quick adventure for Mei, “I’ll just say bye to Hobi.”

He’s already watching you with mirth in his eyes, as if he knows what you’re about to say. “Hey, will you tell Jungkook I said hi?” You murmur, feeling your ears burning at his smug grin.

“Sure, I will,” Hobi grins, “I’m sure he feels bad about not being able to say hi to you himself. He’s had a busy day.”

“Understandable,” You nod, “I mean, you guys say he’s the best in the city, right? I’m sure he’s got a waitlist of people who want to be tatted by him.”

“Maybe someday he’ll tattoo you, huh?” He says mischievously to which you roll your eyes and feel your face heat up.

“He would be so lucky,” You scoff, as if the notion of Jungkook tattooing your body doesn’t make something flutter in your belly.

“We have this competition at the parlor where the person who makes the most tips has to buy the supplies on a monthly basis,” Mei says smugly, “Usually, it’s Kook but for the last few months it’s been me.”

That doesn’t surprise you in the least- Hobi has told you that Mei and Mina are both skilled in realistic and watercolor tattoos, as well as piercings. You think if you were ever to receive a tattoo from either Mei or Mina, you would tip them for the mere fact of them being so close in your presence for so long.

They used to intimidate you, when Hobi had first introduced you to them. Mina with her sleek bob haircut, and Mei with her long, glossy waves. Both of them had nose piercings and their ears were dotted in different hoops and rods. You’d only caught a glimpse of their tattoos a handful of times- Mei has a full sleeve on her right arm where Mina’s tattoos seem to be more hidden.

They’re just so cool and funny and smart.

“How did you all get the idea for the tattoo parlor? Like, was it a business decision or were you all friends before?” You ask curiously.

“Well… Jin, Mina and I have been friends since we were kids, our parents are really close. Jin had this dream of opening his own tattoo and piercing parlor for the longest time. Jungkook and Hobi joined a few months after we officially opened. It took a while, but we’re where we are now,” Mei says fondly.

“That’s incredible! You guys started from the ground up,” You say, in awe, “That parlor is your baby.”

“Fuck, yeah it is,” Mei grins, “What about you? What cool tech stuff is going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

“Um…” Your face heats up at the compliment, “I’m currently helping in developing this app for one of our clients, it’s specific for tracking and trending information related to chronic health conditions. It’s still in its infancy, but it’s been fun! And it’s job security, I guess.”

Mei lets out a low whistle, “Wow, you’re doing something like that by yourself?”

“No, I have a pretty great team,” You shrug, “Something like that definitely can’t be done alone.”

Mei hums, “You’re gonna be great, Ms. CEO.”

“Yeah right, I’d never want that burden,” You scoff, “I’m good right where I am.”

With both of your arms full of bags of supplies for the tattoo parlor (and some extras), you both walk out of the shop and towards Mei’s sleek, black car. It’s late, and you don’t really feel much like taking public transportation. But you’re nervous to ask Mei for a ride home for some reason.

“Hey, did you drive to the parlor?” Mei asks.

“N-no, I don’t have a car yet,” You reply, “I only just bought my condo and didn’t want to make another big purchase just yet. I want to start looking though…”

“Oh! I’ll drive you home then,” Mei offers once she starts the engine.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of out of the way from here,” You reply, folding in on yourself a little in the passenger seat.

Mei only waves you off. “Oh, please. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to get home alone?”

You bite your tongue, as vivid memories of Sora claiming that she didn’t have enough gas in the tank or her asking for gas money for the ten minute drive from her apartment building to your condo flash in your mind.

“Thank you, Mei,” You say gratefully, “Let me know how much to Venmo you, for gas money-”

“Gas money? For a seven minute drive? Is that a joke,” Mei gasps, “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I asked!”

“Asking me for gas money,” Mei mutters, “You said you want to start looking for a car?”

Her smile twists into something mischievous.

“Yeah, I have no idea where to start though…”

“Ask your boy, Jungkook. Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin work at a car dealership and they’re his roommates, I’m sure he’d be eager to help you.” Something in her voice is coy but you maintain a neutral face.

“Yeah… maybe I will,” You say thoughtfully, “Hey! He’s not my boy-”

“Alright, alright,” Mei relents gently, “But really, reach out to him. He’ll help you. So that those boys don’t scam you like the sleazy car salesmen that they are.”

When you see Jungkook next at the tattoo parlor which is conveniently on your way home from work (again with a box of pastries), you muster the courage to step into his office to ask him for help.

“Hi,” You say weakly, “Umm… I come bearing gifts. Got some of those mint chocolate brownie bars that you like, and those macarons-”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to bribe me, baby,” Jungkook says, smirking widely when your lips part in protest.

“If I was trying to bribe you, it wouldn’t be with mint chocolate. Disgusting,” You roll your eyes and squeal out loud when he lunges for you, giving you a teasing but tight back hug.

“Take it back,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. You hardly hear him, too wrapped up in the warmth of the big black hoodie he’s wearing. The soft, gentle scent of laundry and vanilla floats into your nose when you turn your head to press your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat is faint against your ear. You wonder if he can hear yours speeding up.

“Mint chocolate sucks. It’s a fact,” You mumble.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” His voice comes as a low grumble from his chest and you swallow nervously. Before your nerves can get the best of you, he changes the topic. “Mei told me you’re in the market for a new car?”

“I don’t really know where to start, but I’ve already started doing some research,” You reply, pointing to your small backpack. You pull out a binder with meticulously colored tabs labeled in neat print that Jungkook raises an eyebrow at.

“What?”

“You just carry around a binder with your research on car purchases at all times? Is that what you do?”

“I have to be prepared!”

“Sometimes you just need a vibe check-”

“You want me to purchase an entire vehicle worth about a million and one paychecks based on just a vibe check? Is that what you did with your motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook gives you a crooked smile, “And a little research. I guess.”

“You guess,” You mutter under your breath.

Jungkook has been more touchy with you once you had given him the go ahead all those weeks ago. He doesn’t show his affections with you unless you’re both alone, and it’s never anything more than hugs and the occasional brush of hands.

He’s melting you from the outside in, and you bask in his radiant heat. The thought of Sora’s approval doesn’t bother you, not when he hugs you like this.

But as always. Her disapproving voice worms its way into your head and you reluctantly peel away from him to sit on the faded burgundy couch with the box of macarons on your lap.

“So,” Jungkook says, immediately feeling the loss of your warmth in his limbs, “How can I help?”

tags: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe

[glyxy-wvs]

hey if you accept requests can you make a fluffy fanfic about Lucifer and Mammon being close? like that pic that you reblogged?

Hello, Anon! Omg, sorry for the long wait!!! 🥺💖 I was busy with irl stuff but AAAA I have finished the fluffy fic! I'm sorry if it didn't reach your expectations.😓 It was a bit difficult to write 'cause I'm not really used to writing fluff.😂 But I hope you like it!! (Also, I didn't base this fic off to the art that I had reblogged, but it's still a fluff fic!! It's fan art, and I think I need permission to write a fic about it.😅 So here's fluffy fanfic of Lucifer and Mammon being close.) Thanks for being the first person to request me haha. Please enjoy this. _ A Day To Relax. [ 1 & 2 ]

Mammon's back hurts; he did the best he could to organized the library at RAD. Maybe he deserves this, or maybe not. He sighs for the tenth time of the day.

There's nothing he can do about it because this was his light punishment for skipping classes again. Although he hates doing chores for his discipline, he needed to be a good big brother for Asmodeus.

Mammon decided to skip his classes so that he could be there to support his little brother. Everyone was busy at that time, with upcoming exams and projects, not one of the brothers could make time for Asmo. The latter understood. It's not like he could force his brothers to watch the stageplay with his classmates. But when he saw Mammon among the crowd with his D.D.D out, he almost cried while performing on stage.

(He felt a bit guilty when he found out that Mammon, believe it or not, skipped classes to watch him.)

Mammon stretched his back when he felt his phone vibrating. He took it out from his back pocket to receive a message from Asmodeus.

[Hey.

I just wanted to say thanks for supporting me there.

This beautiful brother of yours is going to treat you tomorrow! <3]

His lips cracked a smile. He feels soft and loved. Mammon chuckled as he took his bag, ready to go home. He had finished organizing anyway; he preferred to play on his phone for a while.

He started walking to the hallways; almost all of the demons were back to their places already. Some are doing their part-time jobs, and some are being lazy at home (Preferably Belphegor.)

"Mammon."

In instinct, Mammon quickly turned around. He already knows that deep voice.

"Are ya gonna assign me another chore to do?" Mammon quickly questioned his older brother, who was leaning into the student council's door frame.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly annoyed already. He pushed back his hair and fixed the wrinkles of his uniform.

"No. Well, if you want to do more. Your choice." With that answer, Mammon crossed his arms, a pout on his face— ready to complain. But Lucifer stopped him.

"Remember that cafe I showed you the other day? Let's go there, my treat." Lucifer stated; he laughed when he saw Mammon froze.

"I don't believe you." His eyes narrowed, looking for a flaw in Lucifer's face and words. "Are ya' truly Lucifer? What if you're a ghost possessing my big bro's body?"

Mammon intentionally loudened his gasp; his eyes were wide, one hand placed on his heart, while the other was grasping on his hair. He paused for a dramatic effect.

Lucifer brought his hand up quickly to pinch his brother's cheek. "You idiot. It's me, of course." He proceeded to ruffles Mammon's hair. "Come on, let's go before I change my mind and give you another chore as punishment. Maybe you could clean up the laboratory next time for a month."

He whispered the last part, but Lucifer knew Mammon could hear him, making the second-born whine.

The two exited the school, taking a detour through the streets.

"I thought yah were gonna give me another punishment." Mammon broke out the silence; Lucifer hummed before replying.

"Why would I? I only gave you a chore for skipping classes, but you being there for Asmodeus? You don't deserve punishment for that."

Mammon stared at the far distance. The cafe they were going to has a nearby sea, and he smiled at his elder brother's words; he enjoyed these simple moments between them. (They're rare. They don't hang out anymore like they used to do in the Celestrial realm. That's why, as much as possible, Mammon cherished these moments.)

Mammon could say that he's close with Lucifer, but not like before— It's weird. Lucifer is his older brother, his family. But as time passed by, Mammon started to get nervous whenever he had done something wrong. He doesn't want to anger and disappoint Lucifer. (But sometimes, he can't help it— he misses his big brother's attention.)

"We're here," Lucifer said. Mammon followed the latter's gaze and immediately formed star-shaped eyes.

"WOAH!! I didn't expect it to be this cool! I only saw the picture but never expected that it would be this big!"

Mammon kept looking around the newly built cafe. The cafe was a bit massive, with a view of the sea beside it. Its structure is similar to a casino. Mammon could already smell the fresh-baked bread and pies inside, making him giggle.

Mammon had loved the view it was showing; he could eat while staring at the horizon. The cafe was located on top of a hill, not too far from the beach. It looks so nostalgic and therapeutic that Mammon took his time admiring the whole place while Lucifer already entered the cafe.

Mammon wished it wasn't too expensive. He knows that Lucifer would be the one to pay, but he doesn't want to burden him with that kind of responsibility. The second-born tried to grasp the wallet on his bag, but then he hesitated. Mammon recalled that the money in there was a payment to his debt.

Ah, yes. Mammon needed to pay it today but decided it would be better to bond with his brother first.

He sighed, still has a firm grip on his bag. He's feeling unwanted emotions today. He wants to cry, laugh, or do something he doesn't usually do. Mammon was overwhelmed with emotions.

He remembered Levi's words that it's okay to be feeling emotions you usually can't explain. Sometimes, it doesn't have to be a reason.

Mammon's snapped out of his thoughts, thinking that Lucifer was likely waiting for him inside. He turned to see the display of different pastries outside, and Mammon immediately recognized Simeon's art.

Mammon recalled Simeon's word. He said that he's going to work part-time somewhere near the sea. And this made Mammon excited. He had already counted the treats and thinking which one would his brothers choose. After planning, he tried to hurry inside but suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Mammon looked over to his shoulder to see an unfamiliar demon. Their body is most likely the same size as Beelzebub but with a strict stare present. Mammon felt like he was burning.

"Heya! May I ask—who are you?" Mammon said; his tone wasn't that confident, and it's evident with his form that Mammon's going to run away in any second now.

He felt the grip on his shoulder got tighter, and the demon dragged Mammon into a less crowded area. He knows he's far powerful than this guy; he's one of the princes of Devildom. He's the Avatar of Greed. But man, he entirely wants to relax today. Mammon tried to stand with honor and kept his breathing in control.

The demon startled him. "Where's the money?"

And then Mammon realized.

"Oh!? You must be the brother's witch! Ah, here— give me a minute," Mammon took out his wallet and gave them the money. He doesn't feel that nervous anymore. Okay— he lied, maybe a little bit. Can't a demon have fears too? "Geez, you scared the hell out of me for a second there. The agreement was me and her meeting later." He muttered the last part.

But a dark aura surrounded him, and Mammon quickly backed away. He can't meet the other demon's eyes, but he can feel the rage from him.

Is the money not enough?? It can't be. I perfectly counted this; I also worked hard for this. What else could be missing???

"With all due respect, please don't go any nearer to him."

A voice. It must be Lucifer's. Mammon couldn't stop overthinking. What if Lucifer scolds him after this? What if Lucifer started to regret spending time with Mammon because of this?

Mammon looked up, tears threatening to fall. He saw his elder brother, standing behind them as classy as ever. His composure is straight, yet the glaring eyes are full of terror. Mammon recognized Lucifer's stance. It's for preparing himself to change into his demon form if the rest of his younger brothers are in serious trouble.

When the demon started to get closer to Mammon, the latter only felt a swift wind before realizing that Lucifer was there, in front of him now. "Didn't you hear what I said? What else do you need from him?"

"The money."

"It's not sufficient? Then alright, here." Lucifer took out his wallet to satisfy the demon in front of them. Mammon's full-out panicking now. His older brother saved him from trouble, and now he's going to be a disappointment in Lucifer's eyes.

"There, you got the money. Tell your sister that my brother had paid the debt." Lucifer dragged Mammon out of the other demon's sight. He looked back with sharp eyes.

"And as great as reasonable, if you're looking for Mammon—" He looked back with sharp eyes. "—strictly appear to see me. Thank you."

Both never turned their eyes back again as they entered the shop. Mammon quickly explained the whole situation. "I'm sorry! I'm sure— precisely sure that I had counted that money. And it's exactly the price the witch had been asking. I don't know what he's up to with—" He kept on babbling as they reached their reserved seats. Lucifer sighed.

"Look, stop chattering; it's annoying. I believe you. Can't I have a day where I relax with my little brother under no stress or orders whatsoever? Seeing you outside in that kind of situation is making my blood boil. How dare he waste such time when you and I could have been eating here already."

Mammon snickered, ah yeh— It's been so long that he forgot how dramatic Lucifer could be at times.

"Forget about it, Mammon. You had settled the debt, and the food that I ordered is already here. But make sure whenever you're going to meet someone concerning payment, always inform me. I'm serious. If the shares had been a burden to handle, you are welcome to visit my office anytime."

Lucifer already had bread in his mouth, but his expression is still irritable from the situation earlier. Mammon can feel his tears coming back again. Why am I so emotional today?

"Ah. Uhm, hey—" He called out to his older brother. "Thanks for backing me up earlier. I appreciated it!"

Lucifer munched the donut he was holding and then drank the newly served tea. His gaze was on the view outside, seemingly avoiding eye contact. "Hm? Of course. I'm your big brother after all, in case you forgot about it."

In moments like this, it was a rare scene between him and Lucifer. They usually argue and sometimes making each other's day stressful. But, just them eldest brothers, talking and sharing random topics— Mammon cherished this.

And behind that frown the eldest always wears, Lucifer could say the same too. He loved calm moments like this.

"But ain't Michael my first big brother?" Mammon teased. Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Silence, you have no elder brother other than me. Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor, you all are my baby brothers." And when Lucifer realized what he said, he quickly replaced the topic. "And eat the dessert I ordered for you."

Mammon's eyes turned into stars immediately when he recognized the smell, "Woah, no way?! How did you know this was my favorite?!!! This desert is expensive! Big bro! You do love me."

Then they chatted, random topics or something concerning about their home that needs fixing. Nevertheless, the atmosphere around them is comforting and warming. After a while, they had finished eating, and the moon was already out. Both agreed to go home.

"We should invite the others here too!" Mammon stated as he breathed the cold wind that passed by them.

"Yes, that would be a pleasant bonding time. Just don't be too chaotic, please. It's hard to handle all six of you."

It was a great day, Mammon thought to himself. It was entertaining and soothing to talk with his big brother without insults nor orders. Lucifer treated him today; it was— nostalgic for Mammon. It's like he doesn't want this kind of treatment to end. But of course, as the little mischief, as he is, he asked one more request.

"Lucifer!" Mammon rolled the letter r, a bit of a whining tone. "It's night, and I'm tired, yah know? Can I request a piggyback ride?" He knows Lucifer will reject it immediately. So it wasn't like he meant it, already hoping for the worst.

But then Lucifer looked at him, a contemplating expression, before getting down on one knee.

"Alright, just this once. Hurry up before I regret my decision."

Mammon's eyes were wide; he smirked before quickly hugging Lucifer from behind. He felt himself getting lifted off, and it reminded him of the old times, back in the Celestial Realm.

Lucifer doesn't mind; he also missed this. But not like he's going to say this out loud.

I should start spending time with my little brothers whenever I'm free. That would be nice.

[flightfoot]

If anyone wants to read a fanfic focusing on Alya’s problems and feelings, centered around her as a person, I HIGHLY recommend “can you keep a secret?” by euphorickiri. 

It starts off looking like it’s mostly just gonna be interested in shipping Alyadrien (which it DOES do very effectively), with early chapters having a good portion of the plot be driven by Alya suspecting that Adrien’s Chat Noir and wanting to spend more time with him, find out more about him in order to become sure of it.

But even then, even as early as chapter 1, you get to see that there’s more going in with Alya than you’d normally see in such a fic. That she can’t get herself to post to the Ladyblog after the Lady Wifi business, that people at school are treating her differently after being akumatized, along with going over her current issues with her friends and family, things that are shown and develop more and more as the series goes on.

In chapter 1:

Nino was her closest friend besides Marinette. They bonded quickly over their mutual love for comic books and have only grown closer since then. Often when Alya felt like she couldn’t talk to Marinette, Nino was always there to lend an ear. This was happening a lot more recently than she wanted to admit. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but Alya wasn’t stupid. Marinette was hiding something from her. Something big. She showed up to school half-asleep most of the time and when asked to hang out she came up with every excuse in the book to avoid going. There were even certain times she would just disappear without telling anyone. It seemed like it was taking a huge toll on her and Alya didn’t want to add to that burden. So she plastered a smile on her face for her best friend and supported her in any way she could. Still, she couldn’t help but be suspicious about what was going on.

She hated how much Lady Wifi took over her life. She pretended not to see the dirty looks people sent her, ignoring how hurt she felt. Nino was right. They weren’t themselves when they were akumatized. But that didn’t mean everyone sympathized with akuma victims. And she was no exception. Even Chloe was wary around her now. Chloe . The most fearsome person at school. So Alya preferred not to talk about it at all. It was just something else she had to deal with.

She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t . She could handle herself.

And with chapter two, it starts laying the foundation of her family situation.

“What do you guys want?” Alya asked tiredly.

“Breakfast,” Ella replied. “Can you make chocolate chip pancakes again?”

Alya ran a hand over her face and looked over at her alarm clock, relieved she had a decent amount of time to get herself and her sisters ready for school. Her parents worked during the day so it became Alya’s responsibility to look after the twins. Make sure they get to school, pick them up from school, feed them, dress them - everything. It could be draining, and as much as she loved her sisters, they were still kids who acted out and refused to cooperate at the worst times. But if she didn’t look after them, no one else would. Her parents, especially her mom, were too engrossed in their work. The one time Nora did come home to visit, Ella and Etta didn't know who she was. That’s how long she’s been gone.

So, this was Alya’s burden to carry. Alone.

“You guys have to eat something other than pancakes every morning,” Alya scolded, reaching for her phone. “I’ll make oatmeal with some fruit instead.”

As the story goes on, Alya’s family situation with her parents fighting and using her as a go-between while pretending everything’s alright, with herself being her younger sisters’ rock, becomes a bigger part of the story and necessary background to the emotional struggle Alya goes through, informing a lot of her character and why her thought process is the way it is.

The rest of the day consisted of Alya trying to get Marinette to speak with occasional assistance from Nino and Adrien. Nothing worked. The only person able to get a reaction out of her was Juleka. The other teen waved passing their table during lunchtime and Marinette waved back. And as worried as she was, Alya couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. There have been days where all Alya wanted to do was yell at anyone who dared to approach her. But she never took it out on Marinette or anyone else. But here they were, the situations revered, and Marinette wouldn’t even look at her . What made Juleka the exception?

No one wants you.

Alya pushed her tray of food away, her appetite gone.

She almost pulled her hair out when Miss Bustier told everyone to sit with their partners during their last class of the day and Marinette bolted out of her seat. Alya tried to hide her irritation when she saw Marinette and Juleka talking out of the corner of her eye as if everything was normal.

“Remember your projects are due tomorrow! I’m giving you the entire class period today to finish up,” Miss Bustier announced. “I’m very excited to see your presentations!”

Adrien slid into Marinette’s empty seat. “We need to find a couple more pictures for the poster but other than that we’re good.”

“I agree.” Alya glared when Marinette laughed at something Juleka said, not paying attention to his words. “We should do that.”

Oh? So quick to replace me? She tensed up as her own words mocked her.

Marinette rested her head on Juleka’s shoulder. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my number 1 partner. You’re irreplaceable.

Wrong. You’re disposable .

Alya’s feelings and emotions are validated by the narrative, even though she has the wrong idea about Marinette replacing her. 

Lady Wifi plays a big role in the story as well, since she’s not actually gone, and serves as a kind of embodiment of Alya’s negative emotions and worst impulses, as well as a looming threat. The tension between her and Alya helps accentuate the emotional heart of the story.

Alya also gets to disagree and talk things out with Ladybug and Master Fu, when she doesn’t agree on their handling of situations, though with them not being demonized in the process either. 

Just... if you want to read a fic focused around Alya’s problems and emotions, but that treats everyone else well too, that gives her a lot of agency and also a lot of support, I HIGHLY recommend this fic.

[velnica]

Extra snip: Singing Along Ch 5

I promised a friend one extra snip to get them through Black Friday retail. Hopefully this sparked joy for you, stilus!

——————***———————

They left not long after, Sanson taking Guydelot on a scenic walk to the aged care, meandering through cobblestone streets and a small park near the house. For once the Elezen didn't talk most of the way, instead he hummed a happy tune as he took in the sounds and sceneries of North Shroud, occasionally running to a fenced overlook to admire the view. Seeing him stretch out his neck to get a better look made a stray thought pop into Sanson's mind and he laughed softly. Guydelot whipped around, curious.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just imagining you at fifteen, busking on the street. You must have been tiny,” Sanson replied, now standing next to the Elezen by the lookout.

“I was not!”

“Elezens don’t hit their growth spurt until they’re nearly twenty, everyone knows that. You,” he jabbed a finger to Guydelot’s chest, “would have been short.”

“Tch, I’ll have you know I am quite tall for an Elezen.” Sanson laughed again, walking off from the fence and motioning for Guydelot to follow. They fell into step, walking again towards the aged care.

He teased again, “Now you are. ‘Fess up, how small were you?”

Guydelot grumbled loudly, though his cheeks turned pink for a minute. Grinning as he won the round, Sanson was ready to drop the jest until his roommate mumbled into the collar of his coat.

“Four fulms ten…”

The image the number conjured was far too cute. His face must have shown what he was thinking for the Elezen just pouted at him, the sight drawing an even louder ‘awww’ from Sanson.

“I can’t believe you were shorter than Cemi. You must have been so adorable.”

“Yeah well, I ain’t that short kid anymore,” he pouted again. Sanson stopped his hand from reaching out to smooth Guydelot’s lips.

“Could have fooled me with that pout of yours.” The glare Guydelot sent him could have melted snow. “It’s alright, I won’t reveal this cute secret of yours to anyone, especially not Fjora.” He had to hold back a laugh at the horrified look on Guydelot’s face.

“Don’t you dare…”

A cheeky grin. “I won’t, but only if you promise—oh, we’re here!” Sanson abruptly stopped in front of a low brick fence, with a metal plaque that read Eugenia’s Spire Aged Care in cursive; Guydelot was so taken by surprise he nearly walked into the Hyur. He went in first, holding the door open for the Elezen who dutifully followed. After the usual paperwork to sign in, the receptionist let them both through to the living area. As soon as they entered, a familiar shout greeted him and he ran over to the corner settee, Guydelot in tow.

“My boy! It’s good to see you. Look at you, nearly a spitting image of Tristan now.” The tanned-skinned man stood up to give him a big hug, before sinking back down into his chair.

“It’s been too long, Poppy. How is the aged care treating you?”

“Made a lot of friends here, I did. And I’m far less a burden to your mother now, I think it’s a win-win situation. Oh, and this lad here must be Guydelot. Yvaine mentioned you the other day. Good to finally meet you; name’s Conrad, Conrad Kemp. I’m Tristan’s father.” He held out a shaky hand, which Guydelot shook, a surprised expression on his face as the much older man gripped his hand firmly.

“Pleasure is all mine, Conrad.”

“And he’s a polite one too, you’ve done well, Sanson.”

He’d never felt his face combust as fast as it did.

“Pop—Poppy, it isn’t like that! Whatever mum told you, that wasn’t right. Guydelot’s my roommate in Gridania.” He chanced a look at the Elezen, whose face was turned away from his own, ears fetchingly red from the base to the tip.

It was an image that he wanted to keep in his heart forever, next to a small Elezen with a too-big guitar singing his heart out in a plaza somewhere.

Conrad just regarded the both of them, clearing his throat nervously. “Ah, my mistake. Yvaine sounded so fond of you already.”

[n-miri]

More Tommy-Purpled friendship content!! CW for: brief mentions of corpses and death (via being struck by lightning) 

Word count: 1610

On rainy days, Purpled polishes his sword. It’s a good weapon: netherite, with Sharpening V, Unbreaking III— the usual overpowered enchantments. He isn’t complaining though; the stronger he is, the better. He goes through a collection of blades, from the one he knows best to the oldest one he owns, on the verge of being grinded into dust. Wipe, sharpen, steer clear of rust. Keep the blade clean and dry. It’s easy to get lost in the repetitive motions. 

Dogchamp lies by his side, close to the fire, hind leg poking at his thigh through the soft material. Their ears perk up, and their tail begins to wag. Back, forth, thumping on the floorboards. 

A door slams open, followed by a myriad of curses. It’s the usual rainy day, after all. 

“Don’t let my floor get wet,” Purpled says immediately. His voice rebounds within the house, a meagre two rooms decorated with torches. A temporary base, if you will. One that he’s planning to blow up soon. 

His UFO was… 

It just isn’t the same. 

“Fuck you,” the trespasser immediately responds. The house is unbearably empty despite its miniscule nature. “I’ll do whatever I want.” 

A beat. He probably found the towel Purpled placed on the counter earlier, specifically for this scenario. Footsteps, sharp against the falling of rain—white hair peeks out from the door. Tommy sneers at the other derisively, before crossing the room in five long steps and dropping down on Purpled’s other side. 

This has become a ritual of sorts, with the two blondes (or, in Tommy’s case, ex-blonde) seeking refuge from bad days. Sometimes it’s sunny out, or the middle of the night; most of the time, it’s raining. 

The day they met, it was raining too. Wide eyes meet each other in the solace of darkness. The past is unforgivingly cruel, and whispers mockeries into their ears. Tommy looked so small, in the Church Prime’s pew; Purpled was sure he looked equally as haggard, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. 

So, Purpled invited Tommy to his base. It’s warm despite being unfamiliar, and Dogchamp is amicable towards traumatised teenagers who need way more therapy than life is willing to give. They talked a bit about the stupidity of other members. Rarely, there was a glimpse into their lives, what they missed and have lost. Neither of them actively asked and, in a sense, it was comforting. 

Then it happens again. And again. Tommy pulls out his sewing kit on the third visit and demands to patch up his hoodie. Purpled teaches Tommy how to shear sheep, wool coming off in lines of blue. Just like this, they help each other. There’s too much left unspoken and no expectations to be had. There is no debt to be repaid, or a favour to be granted, or a profitable exchange. 

It’s just that. It’s just them, crossing each other’s path sometimes. Seeing how the other has changed from their previous meeting. 

“It’s stupid,” Tommy says suddenly. His shrill voice pierces through the haze of thoughts. Pale eyes flicker around the room, with shadows from corners pulling faces. “This is what you do in your spare time? Fight, prepare to fight, fight some more?” He scoffs, not even sparing Purpled a glance. “Idiot.” 

Much to the mercenary’s bemusement, Tommy proceeds to pull a cake out of his inventory. As in, a full-blown, home-baked dessert. 

“.... Huh?” 

An embarrassed scowl creeps onto his face. “Don’t be like that.” He drops the plate loudly onto the space between the two. “It’s edible, if that’s what you were wondering. I know how to cook shit. Niki…” Tommy’s eyes grow distant, fingers twitching, as if moving to punch the treat into oblivion. “She used to bake. A lot. Back in- y’know, back in L’manberg. I learned a bit from her,” he finishes lamely. All the bravado has left him. 

“That’s cool, dude,” Purpled replies. “It looks good.” 

“Wh- of course it does! I’m poggers at everything I do. That’s why the women love me.” Carefully, the boy flicks strands of white hair away from his eyes. “I’m astonishingly charming.” 

There was a time where Tommy’s hair imitated the sunlight, gold and yellow and bursting with happiness. He smiled more. Laughed more, too. Was more brash and insolent; was so willing to see the good in everyone he met. 

Now his hair is completely white. His dull eyes flicker around the room and his hands are always, always trembling. Tommy is different from who he was before. 

The Tommy and Purpled of before would never have become friends. 

“Hold up, let me cut it.” Saying that, the mercenary raises his newly polished sword. Tommy sputters, holding a hand out to stop him. 

“Why can’t you use a knife like a normal person!” 

Purpled shrugs. “Technically, a sword is a very big knife. It’s… stabby and shit.” 

Exasperated, Tommy gets up from his spot in a tangle of long limbs and half-hearted glares. “I’m going to slice this cake like a normal person. It deserves to be treated with respect.” 

“We’re going to eat it anyway,” Purpled points out. 

The other sniffs indignantly, turning heel to find cutleries. Dogchamp lifts their head in his direction, turning to Purpled, then back again. Slowly, the wolf raises from their sitting position and trots out of the room. Traitor. 

From the closed window, lightning streaks through the sky, followed closely by a clap of thunder. It’s loud, Purpled winces. He had expected it but- the sound still makes him jumpy. Rainy days in general are terrible. 

The patter of rain against the dirt and harsh concrete pulls out a vivid scene from his memory. Soldiers, rising out of graves, burdened by shiftless armour, heaving up weapons twice their arm span. Thunder imitates piercing shrieks, the blast of an explosion. Raindrops sound like corpses hitting the ground. 

Everytime it rains, he recalls that scene with bitter reminiscence; greets it like an old friend who came back to haunt him as an afterthought. It’s not the best way to spend his day. 

“You know,” Tommy says, having entered the room when he wasn’t aware, “I got struck by lightning once.” 

Distantly, Purpled thinks of raindrops rolling through hair and a shock so bright it electrifies the body. The event he construes in his mind, like always, paints his own death in a morbid way. He wonders if he died, would anyone come visit him? Would there even be a grave? 

“That sucks,” the blonde replies. 

Tommy gives a non-committal hum, shifting the objects in his arms. In one hand the boy carries a kitchen knife and in the other, a blanket. It’s the one with a UFO print on it—too childish for the purple boy’s tastes, yet too precious to be thrown away. 

Once again, the two -three, counting Dogchamp- are back in their original positions. The blanket is draped over Purpled’s lap and he watches, warily, as Tommy’s shaking hands raise the knife. At this point, Purpled would have offered to do it. He nearly does, too, but- 

Ten minutes have passed. Eyebrows scrunched, a bead of sweat against his forehead, Tommy tries to steady his grip and cut the cake in equal slices. It doesn’t work. It’s uneven at best, falling apart at worst, but- 

None of that matters. He did it. 

A ‘good job’ or ‘gg’ sticks on Purpled’s tongue, sincere yet worried of coming off as patronising. Instead, he gives a silent thumbs-up and hopes that conveys all the things he wishes he could say. 

Tommy grins. “Eat up before it gets cold, purple boy.” Neither of them mention that it’s definitely not warm anymore, with how long it’s been and how cold the weather is. Obediently, the teenager picks up the tiniest chunk of cake and pops it into his mouth. 

Sweet is the first thing that touches his tongue. Honestly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise— Tommy started over-seasoning his food after the prison visit, the same time he came back with a head full of white hair. That, paired with the fact Awesamdude said he had died, creates a sinking feeling in Purpled’s guts. It doesn’t take an idiot to connect the dots. 

“Yummy,” he comments. “Delicious. Uhh, what other synonyms are there? Delectable, tasteful-” A choking laugh cuts him off, too loud and too worryingly breathless all at once. “I’ll give this a… hm. Maybe an eight out of ten.” 

“I should have gotten full marks,” Tommy says sarcastically. “Glad you like it, though.” Underneath the amusement is the barest form of sincerity, and that’s enough for the both of them. 

“Uh-huh! I do.” 

Once the rain lets up, the two will part again. Purpled will wash sugar off his fingers, keep the polishing kit in a chest and carry on with his life. That’s how this has always been. 

But for now, light from the fireplace casts a glow across their faces, painting a sunset upon Tommy’s self. It’s reminiscent of older days, better days; ones that have long since passed. They’ll never get any of it back—family, homes, the people they once were. All they can do is yearn for what has been lost and move on. 

So for now, Purpled stops focusing on the what-ifs and could-have-beens. For now, he relishes in the warmth in his sides as he laughs himself silly. Dogchamp dozes off contentedly. A blanket is shared, covering his and Tommy’s laps, barely offering heat. The half-eaten cake lies between them and his friend is threatening to smash it into his face. 

Outside, rain drums against the earth. Neither of them pay it mind. 

[wlntrsldler]

champagne problems (j.p one shot)

PROMPT: Y/N has to leave and she leaves her boyfriend, James Potter, behind. 

WARNINGS: mentions of death, angst

WC: 2.8K+ 

HP MASTERLIST

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champagne problems (j.p one shot)

You sat nervously on the chair that Dumbledore had in his study. He called for you early in the day, waking you from your peaceful slumber in the arms of your boyfriend, James Potter. You had to carefully untangle your limbs and crawl out of bed to meet with Dumbledore. It’s urgent and confidential, his note said. 

“Thank you for coming so early,” he cleared his throat, making himself comfortable on the seat opposite you. “This is a matter of life or death, Miss Y/L/N. I’m glad you treated it with such urgency.” 

You nodded, “Of course. When I agreed to be a part of the Order, I meant it. What do you need me to do, Professor?” 

He looked down at his feet, as if afraid to bear the bad news. You’ve never once seen him like this and it only furthered the sickness in your stomach. It must really be a large ask, “As you know, the Dark Lord and his followers are getting more and more relentless.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, thinking back to the people you’ve already lost and how you could tell that people were starting to lose hope in the Order’s cause.

“After the attack on the McKinnons, we realized how ruthless he and his followers are.” 

The images of the McKinnon family flashed in your mind. You were the one to discover them. Your best friend since 11, laying on the floor cold, surrounded by the bodies of the people you considered family. It still haunted you everyday. 

Dumbledore sensed your discomfort, “My deepest condolences.” 

“Thank you.”

“But as I was saying, after that attack, we know now that everyone is in danger,” he continued, “This is where you come in. You’re Muggleborn, correct?”

You let out a sound of confirmation, “Yes.”

“Right. We need you to be in the Muggle world. You need to be out there protecting Muggle families of Order members. We cannot have them out there unprotected, not when there’s this war going on. They’re helpless. Someone needs to be out there with them. Someone who understands them but also understands our world.” 

“I’ll do it,” you said with no hesitation, “Of course I’ll do it. I agree with you. Someone should be out there with them.” 

“I had no doubt that you would agree but there’s a catch.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What is it?”

“You cannot tell anybody where you’re going,” he explained, leaning close to whisper the next set of directions, “Muggle families, most of them don’t know what’s going on and the members of the Order would feel a sense of comfort to know that there’s someone— one of us— out there at least looking out for their families. You need to be discrete. And nobody, and I mean nobody, can know what you’re doing.” 

“I understand, Professor.” 

“Miss Y/L/N,” he repeated, voice harsher this time. It sent a shiver down your spine, hearing his authoritative voice directed at you, “I mean nobody. Not even Mr. Potter.” 

Your face paled, gulping down your words. You were shocked. You thought the secrecy only applied to the Muggles you were protecting, not the other wizards or witches. Especially not James. You stood up, “Why can’t I tell James?”

“One must be blind if they can’t see that Mr. Potter would follow you into the jaws of death to make sure you’re safe,” Dumbledore half-heartedly chuckled. He followed your movements and stood up, “But we simply cannot have him follow you or contact you. There’s too much at risk. He will try to follow you, but we need him here. He’ll try to contact you but there’s a large chance that the Dark Lord and his followers will intercept it.” 

You remained silent. Beats passed before you even opened your mouth to speak again and when you did, no words came out. You were angry. You were upset. You were speechless because it seemed like Dumbledore was asking you to do something that you swore to yourself and to James you’d never do. You paced around his study, not caring that the Professor you once looked up to was waiting impatiently for your answer. But it hit you half-way through combing through the facts that no matter what you said, Dumbledore would still send you out there anyway and James would have to hear some convoluted story from him instead of you. 

“You’re asking me to break the heart of the love of my life by telling him I’m leaving him so he doesn’t ask questions…” you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes, “So I can save the lives of innocent people?”

He looked at you blankly, only realizing then that that was exactly what he was asking of you. He nodded, “Yes.” 

“Well I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” 

“No.” 

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes tightly. When you opened them again, you saw the sun shyly peeking through the curtains of Dumbledore’s office. James would be waking soon. With a heavy heart you asked, “When do I leave?”

“Now.” 

You shook your head, wiping your eyes as your tears fell, “No, no, tonight is Euphemia’s and Fleamont’s wedding anniversary party. I can’t leave, not until I talk to James.” 

“Miss Y/L/N, this is an urgent matter.” 

“I know,” you snapped, exhaling through your nose harshly. You stared at Dumbledore, not wavering in your stance, “I know it’s selfish but I’m about to be selfless for Merlin knows how long. I’m about to break the heart of the love of my life and he might not ever forgive me for it. So I’m going to be selfish for one more day. With all due respect, Professor, you can keep your protective charms on them for a few more hours.” 

He didn’t say anything else. You took it as a sign of his agreement and you quickly apparated out of his study and back into the Potters’ home. You landed on their front porch, studying it very carefully. You felt sick as the realization that it may be your last time in this home forever, hit you. The war was brutal and it takes everyone it can. There was no reason as to why it would spare you. 

Before you entered, you wiped your stray tears from your cheeks and mustered up a smile as you heard clattering from behind the door. You knew the Potters were up being the morning people that they all were, not to mention the fact that tonight was a busy night for them. With one last sense of normalcy, you twisted the doorknob and entered the house you’ve grown to call a home. Instantly, you smelled the scent of fresh breakfast and a pot of coffee that Fleamont should win awards for. 

You hung your coat on the rack and wiped your shoes on the rug, scraping away the bits and pieces of the conversation with Dumbledore that lingered. 

“I don’t appreciate waking up alone,” James called from halfway down the stairs. His hair was in disarray under his hoodie. He wore pajama pants that were discarded on the floor when you first left this morning. He sported a playful pout on his lips, stopping right in front of you, “Where were you, my love?”

“Just went out for a walk,” you lied, “Couldn’t sleep.” 

James wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on the top of your head, “Well next time, wake me. We could’ve gone on a walk together and I wouldn’t be worried in the wee hours of the morning, wondering why my darling girlfriend has left me all alone.”

You leaned up to place a loving kiss on his lips, wiping away the pout that was once there, “Sorry, love. Next time I’ll wake you.” 

“Good,” he smiled, intertwining your fingers as he dragged you to the kitchen where the wonderful aroma was coming from. His thumb absentmindedly drew shapes on the top of your hand, making your heart plunge deeper into your stomach.  You squeezed his hand. You’d be giving this up.

“Morning!” Euphemia beamed, already beginning to eat the feast that was prepared for the morning, “Are you two ready for the dinner party tonight?” 

“Oh, that’s tonight!” James exclaimed, eyes bulging out of their sockets. “Godric, I’ve forgotten.” 

“Shame that you’ve forgotten such an important night,” Fleamont shook his head, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup, “It’s an occasion, James.” 

He blushed, ducking his head in hopes that you won’t catch it, “Yes, I sure hope so.” 

You were too preoccupied with the conversation that you had with Dumbledore this morning to even notice the strange way that James was acting or the grins on his parents’ faces. You merely nodded along, not really listening to their clues and conversations. You smiled at the right places and hummed at the rest. You offered no real contribution at breakfast. 

Soon enough, the day began to move faster and faster and it was nightfall. Members of the Order started to trickle in the party, congratulating the Potters on such a happy and healthy marriage. It looked beautiful. There were lights strung everywhere and the food was delightful. People were at ease for the first time in over a year. It was a nice distraction from what was happening outside the safety of the Potters’ home. It was well-needed. 

You watched with a heavy heart as James danced with his mother. His parents celebrated their wedding anniversary with a small get together, believing that everyone deserved a little bit of fun in the midst of the heartache of the war. You sipped on your champagne, timidly, watching your boyfriend from the sidelines. 

Sirius smiled at you, nudging your shoulder with his, “Hey, how are you holding up?” 

“Fine, I suppose,” you replied, shooting him a tight-lipped smile. You looked down at your feet, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. “Marlene would’ve loved this.” 

“She would’ve,” he agreed, taking a sip from his glass. “I miss her.” 

“Me too.”

The two of you stood in silence, with your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He didn’t dare move, knowing that the weight that he was carrying was just as big of a burden on you. Sirius moved his glass to his opposite hand and took it all in one gulp. After the song ended, another slow one began and you felt your cheeks flush as James made his way over to you. 

“Not trying to steal my girl are you, Pads?” James joked, approaching you and Sirius.

“Tried to in the past, Prongs, but it seems she only has eyes for you,” Sirius winked, moving away to leave you and James alone and to bother Remus. “See you guys later.” 

“Bye, Siri,” you waved, placing your glass down on a nearby table to wrap your arms around James’ neck, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Potter?” 

“Dance with me,” he murmured into your skin, holding you impossibly close. 

“You know I can’t dance,” you sighed, although you weren’t making any moves to get away from him. 

“Good thing, I can,” James replied, already beginning to sway you back and forth, “Just follow my lead, darling.” 

You let yourself fall apart in his arms, letting go of all your apprehensions for the duration of the song. James hummed the melody in your ear, rubbing circles down your back. His cologne filled your senses, making your stomach turn. He kissed your temple, his lips lingering there longer than usual before he pulled away. 

This was going to be difficult. 

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, hoping that the chatter of the guests would silence your sniffling. You couldn’t help but release the tears that have been threatening to spill since the night began. Your lips quivered as you peppered kisses on his exposed skin. When the song came to an end, you sucked in a breath, intertwining your fingers with his, before leading him away to a spot away from everyone else. 

James followed you without question, trusting you with every fiber of his being. You calmed yourself down before you stopped in your shared bedroom. James had a large smile on his face, still love-struck with you. You forced yourself to smile as you sat on the unmade bed. 

“Y/N,” James began, holding your hands in his. He was down on both knees in front of you, cupping your face with his unoccupied hand. James kissed your lips softly, letting the buzz of the party dull in the background. He focused on nothing else but the feeling of your lips on his and the love that was coursing through his veins. “My love, my darling, I love you.” 

James pulled away, the same smile still on his lips. He let go of your hands and your face and dug one hand into his pocket. When his hand emerged, a small ring sat in the middle of his palm and your heart shattered. You clasped your hands on top of your parted lips as you began to bawl— not for the reasons you were supposed to. 

He was still oblivious to your plans and he chuckled tearfully, moving the small band in between the pads of his thumb and his index finger. James began to speak, “Y/N, I love you more than anything in the world. I knew from the moment that I met you that I was meant to be with you and only you. My love, you make this gray world so full of color and I thank you everyday for giving me a reason to keep fighting. I w—”

“James, stop,” you cried, shaking your head furiously. 

James furrowed his eyebrows, confused, but continuing, “No, love, let me finish. I-I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with yo—”

You pushed him off far enough to step away. Your tears were streaming down your face by now, hands shaking as the poisonous words dripped from your tongue like venom, “James, I don’t want to be with you.” 

The only sound that could be heard was of the ring falling from his grasp. The sound of the metal hitting the ground was so loud, it almost masked the sound of James’ heart breaking into pieces. He shook his head, clamoring to get to his feet. He stumbled a few times trying to reach you, the ring on the floor long forgotten. 

“W-what?” he shook his head, tilting it to the left, as if pleading you to explain his misery to him, “W-what are you talking about?” 

You gulped, “I don’t want to be with you, James. I’m sorry, I-I can’t marry you.” 

“Why not?” James whimpered. 

The brokenness in his voice almost made your knees give out. You leaned against his desk for support as he walked closer to you. You swallowed, hating yourself for having to lie to him, “Don’t, James. I just… I’ve changed and I don’t want this anymore.”

“What did I do wrong?” 

“I-I..” you looked at his face, a part of your heart breaking off with every sniffle. He looked utterly ruined and you knew you caused it. You were at a loss for words so you just shook your head and shrugged. 

“You fell out of love with me.” 

No, I could never, you wanted to yell. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 11 and I’ll never stop until the day I die because James Potter, you are the love of my life and I hate the way I have to hurt you to save the lives of others. I don’t know how I’ll be able to live with myself knowing that I saved people’s lives at the cost of the life of the one who means the most to me. 

James took your silence as confirmation. He fell back on the bed, accidentally kicking the ring to your foot in the process. You picked it up, ignoring the pang of guilt in your chest as you examined it. Engraved within it were the words: “Mrs. Potter.” It was the ring Fleamont gave Euphemia when he proposed. 

You looked down at the floor, placing the ring on James’ desk. The sound that the ring made when it was placed down made James cringe and he looked away to hide the tears rolling down his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it after realizing that there was nothing you could say now to make things better. 

You opened the door and walked downstairs, staring longingly out the window to watch the party in full swing. In the corner, you saw Dumbledore, nursing a glass of champagne. His eyes met yours and he tipped his head, knowing exactly what just transpired in your absence from the party. 

With one last look up the steps, perhaps debating if you should run back up there and tell James the truth, you shrugged on your coat and walked out of the Potters’ house for the last time. 

**NO LONGER DOING GENERAL TAGS BUT I WILL BE TAGGING BASED ON THIS SPECIFIC POST

i’m planning on publishing a sirius version!

@whoreforfredweasley @thetierdslytherin @strawberriesonsummer

[snowflake-of-destruction]

Matchablossom, 22

The vast majority of onlookers were greatly amused by the five year old screaming, "The cake is plastic!" like it was his burden to warn the entire reception hall that they were about to be poisoned. The real trouble was the passionate declaration of, "I don't want to be here! You have to take me home!" as he pulled away from his mother's grip, throwing his entire body into the gesture so he immediately fell to the floor as soon as he broke her hold on his arm.

Eri Nanjo was thoroughly shamed, not just by Kojiro's behavior and how she knew it reflected on her, but by knowing that not everyone would be easily fooled into thinking the next words her son shouted as he threw his flailing temper tantrum, "You don't want to be here either! We're going to grab the most expensive gift from the catalog and get out!" were just something he'd made up with the wild imagination of youth and not some tasteless, glib comment that had first come from her.

Eri tried to calm Kojiro down, quietly, calmly, not causing more of a scene, wishing Kazuhiku was there to play disciplinarian, but the small boy was having none of it. His shirt was strangling him. His mother had told him there was going to be karaoke later, but he wasn't supposed to participate in the singing. Now, he had discovered the pretty cake in the corner with all the decorations was plastic except for a piece for the bride and groom. He was sure he was oppressed. He'd heard his father use that word before. Oppression was a Very Serious Issue, but when Kojiro talked about it, he wasn't taken seriously.

Finally, Kojiro was picked up around the middle with a deep groan and a frustrated tone of, "If you're going to act like a baby, I suppose I'll have to treat you like a baby. We will talk about your behavior at home, and when your father is back from his trip, there will be consequences."

Kojiro could have twisted around more, kicked, made his mother drop him, even gone completely limp and turned himself into dead weight. He didn't. He tensed at first in shock, but then, perhaps just working on automatic instinct while he regained his bearings and plotted his next move, he helped right himself into an easier hold as his mother balanced him against her hip like he was a baby again, and wrapped his arms around her neck. He didn't even keep screaming, stupefied into silence by the indignity of it all (Lying on the floor hadn't been undignified. That was an organized protest from the oppressed).

"They have a plastic cake," he found the words of his best defense after a long moment, softened voice scratching from the previous wailing, begging his mother to consider the dire circumstances that had led him to madness. It would have been anyone's final straw. He wiped not just his nose but his entire face with the back of his sleeve, creating yet another etiquette error. "My hair is crunchy and it makes my brains crunchy too." Eri had put some gooey stuff in his hair to make it smooth instead of sticking up or curling at the back like it liked to. Kojiro was not the biggest fan. "Sorry, Mommy."

He wasn't sure his apology was enough. His mother was smiling again, but it was the type of smile she usually gave really slow cashiers at the store and people with big dogs they met on walks. That was a problem for future Kojiro though. "Your hair looks pretty, Mommy."

"Thank you." Eri patted it with her free hand to make sure the style really was still all in the right place. She wasn't sure how much of a mess she looked after struggling with Kojiro. Her most pressing worry in the moment was his shoes leaving dark marks on her kimono, however--though it was doubtful anything could embarrass her more. "And the cake is plastic so it can be a fancy centerpiece. We'll be served real cake from the kitchen after the bride and groom cut their piece. There's no reason to be upset."

"You should have said," Kojiro replied, regretful, still not for the tantrum, but for the trouble later that could have been avoided. Poor future Kojiro. And poor present Kojiro who was sat down in an uncomfortable chair at a table full of boring looking adults and not only no cake but no food in sight.

There was one other non-adult at the table. Kojiro hadn't seen him at first because he was slumped down in his chair as low as he could go, making it look empty, but then a pretty lady with flowers in her hair had ordered, "Say hello, Kaoru," and a tuft of bright pink hair and a pair of eyes covered by glasses much larger than should have been allowed on such a small face appeared over the edge of the table.

"Hello, Kaoru," the mumbled defiance came from the general direction of the eyes.

The pretty lady apologized, though to Kojiro's mother rather than to him, which adults were always doing.

"You look like a bug," Kojiro informed the eyes, conversationally.

"You look like a dumb monkey," the eyes shot back.

More rebukes and apologies came from the mothers, though the man seated to the left of the eyes let out a warm, booming laugh and pronounced that, "They're making friends! They're boys!"

"He's not a boy. He's a gorilla," the eyes retorted, beating Kojiro before he could call him a bug again.

"Did you make your hair pink to match the cake?" Kojiro swung his legs out as far as they would go, but couldn't reach to kick pink bug boy under the table.

"Yes," Kaoru said, suddenly serious, though only for a moment before he giggled. He scooted up in his chair a bit--possibly because Kojiro was getting closer to kicking him--revealing a lopsided smile that Kojiro found himself returning, even though he had been ready to swear pink bug boy his enemy not even a moment ago.

"Nuh uh," Kojiro shot back. "I know you. You're in my class. You always had pink hair."

"No way! I dyed it," Kaoru insisted. "I don't even go to kindergarten."

"Do too! You always take the best paint set when we do art."

"I need to practice. I'm going to be a famous artist." Kaoru pushed his giant glasses up his nose. "Or an astronaut. Or a robot."

"You can't be a robot when you grow up," Kojiro scoffed. "You build a robot."

"I'm going to build a robot and make it be my friend so I always have one." Kaoru turned serious once more, though this time it seemed a more serious kind of serious to Kojiro, not the joking, lying straight-faced kind of serious--and that made Kojiro's chest hurt for some reason. Kaoru was just a stupid bug boy with pink gum hair, but he should have a human friend. Kaoru's mom did that pursed lip and watery-eyed look adults did when you said something that made them sad, but she didn't say anything to Kaoru, instead talking to Kojiro's mom about "troubles with the move."

"A robot isn't a friend, dummy," Kojiro explained patiently, continuing before the red blotches that rose on Kaoru's bug face could turn into Kaoru yelling at him, and them both getting in trouble, "I can be a friend though. I'll be your best friend. I have two best friends already, but you can be one too."

"You want to be my friend?" Kaoru blinked incredulously.

"That's what I said. Do you have trouble hearing?" Kojiro tried one last time to kick Kaoru, who tucked his legs up on the chair and stuck his tongue out.

"What if I don't want to be your friend?"

The nerve of some bug-people. "I can do five jumping jacks and almost a cartwheel," Kojiro explained his most praiseworthy qualities. "And I am a really good frog catcher."

Kaoru's eyes lit up behind his glasses. "Do you have a pet frog? I have a pet frog. Her name is Carla."

"You should have brought her to the wedding!" Kojiro gasped, sitting up straighter.

"I tried!" Kaoru waved his hands in animated distress. "I wasn't allowed."

"That's dumb," Kojiro commiserated. He bet it was Kaoru's mom that said no. She wasn't as pretty now that he knew she was racist against frogs.

"You're dumb," Kaoru shot back, smiling through the unnecessary insult.

"No, you're dumb," Kojiro retorted, though it was just for the purposes of completing the conversation. Kaoru was cool for a paint stealer with stupid glasses. He had a pet frog. "Look! They have fire!" Kojiro shouted, all at once distracted as he caught sight of the bride and groom going from table to table, lighting candles all over the reception hall.

Kaoru rose up on his knees to see better, craning his neck and answering in an awed voice, "Fire is my very favorite thing in the world." His mother tried to interrupt with a bid for him to sit back down properly, but he didn't listen.

"No, it's robots," Kojiro volleyed back without a pause. "You want a robot best friend. You want to marry a robot."

"No, I want you for a best friend." Kaoru had another one of his weird, serious moments.

"Do you want to marry me too?" Kojiro tried to counteract his pink haired new friend's gravity.

"Can we have a lot more candles?" Kaoru asked.

Kojiro had expected to be called dumb again or for Kaoru to declare the idea gross, but this was better. He'd rather marry Kaoru and his pet frog than a girl. "Yeah! And a cake that isn't plastic!"

"The cake is plastic?" Kaoru stopped twisting around in his seat in order to scrunch his nose in distaste in Kojiro's direction. "They should go to jail."

And then was when Kojiro really knew they belonged together.

[parvuls]

fic: kintsugi

summary: The day after brunch at Jerry's, Jack and Shitty have a raw, much-needed conversation over the phone. Some issues need to be addressed before they can head down the road to patching things up.

word count: 6k

tags: year 3, post-comic 3.12, phone calls, friendship, canon compliant, apologies, introspection

notes: based on the prompt ‘providence + family’ by @atlasthemayor.

read on ao3

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Jack’s stomach churns strangely when he sees Shitty’s name flash on his caller ID.

It’s a disconcerting feeling, a slight jolt and twinge in his gut, both reminiscent of when anxiety coils low inside him and distinctive in some way. It makes Jack frown and set his heated dinner aside on the coffee table with the hand not holding the buzzing phone. He’s not sure he ever had this foreign reaction to Shitty calling him before, so after a brief moment of puzzlement he decides to write it off as a side effect of the exhaustion weighing him down.

The phone vibrates once more in his palm before Jack slides his thumb across the screen to accept the call. “Hey, man,” he greets, balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he can pick his food up again. Shitty won’t mind the sound of his chewing, probably. “Staying up late to study?”

It’s coming up to half past eleven on Saturday night. Jack dragged himself through the front door and into the dark apartment at around ten forty-five, his muscles sore and his body beat from over twenty minutes of ice time. He dumped his gear bag in the entryway next to his shoes and headed straight into the kitchen without flicking any of the lights on, shoved one of his frozen meal plan boxes of grilled chicken and brown rice into the microwave without pausing.

The yellow glow of the microwave was the sole source of light in the room as Jack strapped an ice pack to his shoulder, still aching from Ericsson’s high-stick, stuck Bitty’s handwritten PB&J note on the fridge, and waited. The only thing he really wanted to do was fall face-first into his bed, text Bitty that he was home, maybe break down the game over the phone if Bitty wasn’t too busy -- but his regimen had taken precedence. He knew he needed to put in some calories and take care of his pain if he wanted to get up for his six a.m. run. By the time his phone started ringing, Jack was mechanically chewing on his food in the living room. His couch was more comfortable than a dining chair, plush upholstery engulfing his tired limbs, and it only distantly occurred to him that there was something sad about eating dinner alone in the dark.

Shitty’s call, when it came, was unexpected.

“Hate to tell you this, but eleven thirty is not late," Shitty replies, the familiar timbre of his voice tinny due to cell reception. It's an effect Jack is closely acquainted with after months of daily phone calls with Bitty, so he knows that's not all there is to it when he notices something else amiss about Shitty’s voice; like the rhythm of his speech is slightly off. He registers it as abnormal, but before he can figure out if he wants to ask about it Shitty carries on talking. “How’s everything going for ya?”

“Okay,” Jack answers plainly, piling rice onto his fork. He doesn't have the energy to think of anything more gripping than the truth. “Eating post-game dinner.”

Shitty pauses on the other side of the line, makes the creases in Jack’s forehead deepen. Something feels weird, but Jack doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it if nothing is really wrong. Sometimes people act in ways that confuse him for any number of reasons, and he’s not always good at telling them apart.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” Shitty says, clearing his throat quietly. “The Red Wings. Great game, brah. Your shoulder doin’ okay?”

Jack’s mouth slows down his chewing on instinct, and he swallows the rice with difficulty. Shitty never just tells Jack great game. Shitty talks about hockey like he’s the narrator in a porn film, with an enthusiasm unmatched by anyone Jack has ever met. Shitty once sang Jack’s praises for half an hour after a game against UND in which Samwell lost 2-0. That, combined with his tone -- something isn’t quite right, Jack thinks. He's more confident in that observation now, but his brain feels slower than usual and he’s too tired to connect any dots.

“Euh, yeah. I’ll be alright. Really have to shake it off and make sure I’m all there on Monday night, eh? We’ve had a good streak, but it’s always about how we play the next game. We’re getting better as a group.”

Jack’s tongue slips into hockey speak naturally before he can do anything to stop it, but instead of chirp him, Shitty makes a vague, throaty noise and doesn’t comment. “Yeah, I get what you mean. You and Mashkov really seem to hit it off out there, heh. Uh, listen -- I know you had to drive back for your practice, but. We didn’t really get the chance to talk much yesterday, and I guess…” Shitty pauses again, and Jack lowers the box to rest against his knee, apprehensive. “Well. D’ya have a moment? Because I’d really fuckin’ like to apologize for some shit.”

Jack’s hand clenches convulsively around his fork, a piece of chicken breast sliding off the tines and falling back into the box with a dull noise.

The early morning and then noon hours of Friday were an emotional blur. From the anxiety spike when Jack stepped off the plane to the car ride on the flooded highway; from the sleep-deprived, tearful conversation in Bitty's narrow bed to the cathartic brunch at Jerry’s with their friends. Jack drove straight home after his nap and stepped out of the car back in Providence to find his phone overflowing with chirping text messages. The chirps haven’t really died down over the weekend, but Jack doesn’t mind them, and he doesn’t think Bitty does either; it feels good to have a subject that’s been burdening them both treated lightheartedly. Trusting their friends with this secret isn't as heavy on Jack's shoulder as he feared it might be.

Shitty is the only one who hasn’t written much in the group chat. He and Jack talked briefly on the lawn outside the Haus after the six of them had returned from brunch, and then they resorted to roughhousing when the mood got too somber. Jack hoped that it’d be enough to put everything behind them, but if he pushes himself to think it through, a part of him has known that this conversation was coming. It wasn’t like Shitty to let things go so easily.

Jack's glad that Shitty can't see his face right now, because he can feel himself grimacing. He hopes his brief silence hasn’t been too revealing. “Shits -- it’s cool, yeah? We’re cool.”

“I don’t think we are, actually,” Shitty argues. His voice is growing strained. “You don’t have to talk, even --”

“C’mon, man, there’s really not much to say. Everything is good now --”

“Jack,” Shitty cuts him off, and the tone of his voice shuts Jack right up. Shitty can get wrapped up in things, can lose himself in long tirades about rights and wrongs and justice, but this tone sounds different than it has through the hundreds of rants Jack has been witness to. Shitty sounds dead serious. Jack blinks, and realizes: this isn’t Shitty being his normal self. He’s genuinely torn up about this. “Just -- will ya let me…? Please.”

“I…” Jack starts, but he doesn’t really know what he wants to say. He’s never been skilled at these kinds of conversations, and the odd feeling he got when he saw Shitty’s name on his screen squeezes even tighter than before, making him feel slightly nauseated.

“It’s -- I --. Jack, what I said in front of everyone during the home opening kegster… and all the other times I... That was some fucked up shit. I fucked up real bad, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jack tries again, but this time the words feel so wrong in his mouth that he has difficulty shaping his tongue around them. It tastes like an outright lie, although he wasn’t aware he was even lying at all.

Jack hadn’t recognized the churning in his gut until now, but Shitty’s steadfast apology intensifies the feeling and dredges up what Jack has clearly failed to notice. He wants to tell Shitty that there’s no need to apologize, but apparently that’s just not true; it’s only now that he realizes the sharp response he had to Shitty’s call is bitterness. Jack’s feelings actually were hurt by Shitty. Maybe he should be startled by discovering wounded feelings he wasn’t cognizant of for over a month, but if this past summer has taught Jack anything, it’s that sometimes he manages to overlook the most substantial of things.

“-- and it’s not enough to be chill about it now,” Jack blinks out of his thoughts and tunes back into Shitty’s distressed train of words, coming chopped and fast through the ear speaker. “I should’ve -- before, too, I should’ve created a safe enough fuckin’ environment --”

“You were always talking to us about creating safe environments, Shitty,” Jack interrupts him. His voice sounds hollow to his own ears, and he puts his fork in the box and the box back on the coffee table to free his hands. He’s still making sense of his own mental state, and he knows that whatever is going to come stumbling out of his mouth will be barely coherent at best. “It’s not -- it was just that -- you’re always saying it’s important, and then, câlice… It was hard enough, hiding, and then with you as well --.”

Everyone was allowed to be queer, for Shitty. Jack remembers how in sophomore year Shitty marched into the Haus, ecstatic about the five different people who had come out to him that same week, babbling about how great it was and how different Samwell was to Andover. He mentioned sexuality labels Jack had never even heard of, had accepted so effortlessly those borderline strangers who had trusted him with their identities. Shitty has always been the most open-minded person Jack knows, the one to talk endlessly about the inherent toxicity of heteronormativity and to lecture the team about never labeling others without their consent.

Jack’s not always good at pinpointing the root of his own feelings, but the moment he thinks of that thrilled look on Shitty’s face almost three years before, he knows, like a lightbulb going off, why he was hurt. Because it seemed like everyone was allowed to be queer, for Shitty -- except Jack. Like Jack wasn’t queer enough to warrant the same respectful treatment. Like he wasn’t really allowed to be queer at all. Jack had never felt particularly close to his sexuality, but when even Shitty assumed so assuredly that he couldn’t be anything but straight, it stung. He just hasn’t registered it until now.

There’s a split second of tense silence, and then Shitty says, “I didn’t even know you were having a hard time, brah,” the pace of his speech slowed down.

Jack’s eyebrows draw together. His right hand, absentmindedly, pinches the fabric of his suit pants and rubs the smooth texture between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t -- what does that mean? It’s not like you asked.”

Shitty’s breath comes out in a harsh exhale, crackles in Jack’s ears. Jack can hear springs squeaking and sheets ruffling, the sounds of Shitty dropping heavily onto his bed. “Brah. How was I supposed to ask? You never pick up the damn phone anymore. Shit, man, I know fuck all about your life lately."

The fabric of Jack’s pants stretches in the tight grip of his fingers as he blinks, takes in Shitty’s accusation, and realizes he’s right all in the space of two and a half seconds. He can recall a few missed calls that he never got around to returning, but it didn’t seem so important at the time. He was, and still is, in the midst of his first NHL season, trying so hard not to get so lost in hockey and his own worries that he drowns in it and forgets to be a good boyfriend to Bitty.

It never occurred to him that he was investing so much effort into being a good boyfriend to Bitty that he wound up forgetting to be a good friend to everyone else. He knew Shitty and he weren’t talking as often, that things between them haven’t been great lately, but the truth is he had so many other things to worry about that he let it drift to the margins of his mind.

Jack lets go of his pants, rubs his palm down his thigh to smooth the creases away. His momentary bout of anger deserts him with the release of a slow, purposeful exhale. "You’re right. I’m sorry."

"No, no, shit,” Shitty says immediately, switching back from resigned to guilt-ridden in the matter of nanoseconds. “Don’t -- damn it, don’t apologize, oh shit, I’m victim blaming aren’t I, I totally didn’t mean to put this on you --"

"Shitty --"

There’s the sound of bed springs creaking again and then loud footsteps hitting a floor, which Jack assumes are the background sounds of Shitty rushing up from his bed to pace the length of his room. He’s seen Shitty do it across his small room in the Haus countless times, and it feels strange now, having it happen forty miles away. "It’s just, you know, I tried and you didn’t pick up and I get it, fuck do I get it, remember how in freshman year you forgot to talk to anyone for like a week during the preseason stress?"

Jack cracks a tiny, shaky smile that he knows won’t make it into his voice. His first few months at Samwell were a horrible time, fraught with loneliness and frequent panic attacks, too absorbed in thoughts of the path he was supposed to take to function in the path he ended up taking. His therapist helped with that, later, but before that there was Shitty. Determined to be Jack’s friend for no good reason at all. "Yeah. And you broke into my dorm room to make sure I wasn’t dead."

"So it wasn’t like I was offended you didn’t pick up or some bull,” Shitty hurries to finish, “I know you, I get it --"

But that’s wrong, Jack thinks, frowning deeply. Surely, Shitty must know that. "Shitty."

"What? No, seriously. It’s not the first time it happened, and with the pressure of playing in the league and all, I totally get it -- it’s just --"

"You’re allowed to be offended, Shits." Jack says quietly. His hand reaches up to curl around the phone and tug it away from the crook of his shoulder, but his muscles remain tense even when his shoulder drops down. His other hand is still fisted on top of his thigh and the purple shadows cast by the faint stars outside the windows heighten the grooves of his veins. "I know I -- I know it can get difficult -- with me --"

"No," Shitty interrupts, sounding even more emotional than before, a penitent snowball that keeps on rolling down the hill. Shitty’s capable of rolling on forever, if he thinks something is truly wrong. "No no no, Jack, I didn’t mean --"

"Shut up, Shitty." Jack says firmly. He preserves, reminding himself forcefully that the sentiment he wants to establish is too important to be derailed by Shitty’s atonement. His hands have begun to shake slightly, but he needs to get it out. "I know I’m worthy of love and friendship and all the crap you were about to say. I’m just saying --. You’re allowed to be hurt even if it isn’t new behavior. Just because I -- my anxiety -- y’know. If it hurts you, you’re allowed to be hurt."

The other side of the line goes quiet for a long moment, not even the sound of breathing coming through. Jack closes his eyes, counts to ten, tells himself that it’s Shitty and that the two of them are going to figure it out. Fighting with Shitty has always been mentally hard on Jack, has always felt like shaking the only foundation Jack had to stand on. It didn’t happen often, but Jack tries to remind himself that whenever it did they always came out intact on the other side. Arguing was a healthy way to understand your needs and the needs of the other person, his therapist told him.

When Shitty speaks, he sounds awed. "Christ on a cracker, man. That was fuckin’ wise. That Bits’ influence on you?"

Jack pauses to consider it seriously, taking time to recompose his brain. Being with Bitty -- it has taught him so much, about his own feelings and others' and how to put them into words, the importance of open communication. He told Shitty that the previous day after Jerry's -- feelings could easily not occur to him, even if he felt them very strongly. He coexisted with them without acknowledging their existence a lot of the time, and this phone call is only one example of it. Being with Bitty, having to be aware and give name and give value to his own feelings to make things work between them, has changed the way he interacted with his emotions. Made him understand himself better. He’s not at all sure he would’ve been capable of articulating himself in a conversation like this if not for the progress Bitty and he have made together.

But being aware of his worth as a person, and learning that his disorder didn’t define him but shouldn’t be brushed aside either, that wasn’t Bitty. “No, Shits. That’s your influence on me.”

This silence is even longer than the one before it, and then it’s broken by muffled sniffles on the other side. Jack's heart leaps, panic building in his chest -- but then Shitty says, throat choked up, “I thought -- fuck, Jack, this is gonna sound so motherfucking stupid. But I thought you didn’t, y’know. Need me anymore. I know this is on me too, I’m barely keeping my head above water here and the whole -- fuckin’ Harvard situation, it’s not… but each day we didn't talk and I saw your game scores, or I would see those Falcs vids… it looks like you have this spankin’ fuckin’ brand new life that I know shit about. And you’ve got Mashkov, and St. Martin, and…”

Jack can’t find adequate words for a long moment, and once he opens his mouth he’s surprised to hear his voice is thick, surprised to feel hot tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “Shitty. Tater is great. And Marty is great, and -- Thirdy, and all of them. But.”

None of them are you, he wants to say, but that sounds too dumb to utter out loud. That’s not how Shitty and he talk to each other, or at least, it’s not how Jack talks to Shitty. Shitty is good at phrasing his feelings in ways Jack can handle, but Jack can’t ever make the right words come out of his mouth.

There’s another pause, his mind blanking, and then he says, “Tater didn’t make me sign a friendship contract.”

Shitty snorts, but it isn’t a happy sound. “Jacko --”

“No. Shits --. Tater didn’t make the effort to be my friend even when I was doing everything I could to push him away. He didn’t drag my ass to the Haus my freshman year after I hadn't talked to anyone but faculty in two weeks. He didn’t argue with Bergey until we were banked together on every roadie and was heartbroken when no one spread rumors about us hooking up.”

That shot goes wide. “Oh fuckity fuck, Jack, I’m a fucking dickhead --”

“Bordel de merde, Shitty, will you fucking listen?” Jack rubs his fingers over the bridge of his nose, feels his skin crease between his brows. “Tater didn’t make me go to Gender in Warfare in Early 20th Century America because he knew it’d end up one of my favorite classes, or learnt my story about the fire extinguisher and the football team by heart, or -- or have been defending me behind my back since the first week he knew me. Tater’s great. I’m -- you know, uh, thankful, for having people on the Falcs. I didn’t think it could be -- after the guys at Samwell, no team would ever be the same.”

“Yeah,” Shitty says, sadly, in the tone of someone who knows exactly what Jack means.

Jack’s throat bobs when he swallows, chest aching. “And they’re great. But Tater -- or Marty, or any of them -- they’re not...”

None of them are you, Jack wants Shitty to hear, gripping his pants in his hand again to balance himself. He doesn’t know how to say it in a way that would make Shitty hear him. None of them could ever be you.

There’s once again silence between them, only interrupted by Shitty’s quiet sniffles and the erratic beating of Jack’s heart. His phone is too warm on his ear, clammy from sweat smearing over the screen, but he can’t bring himself to put Shitty on speaker. It feels like they’re too far apart to have this conversation already, like Shitty should be sitting here on the couch next to Jack in flimsy underwear like he was every time they needed to talk like this over the past four years.

After a long moment, Shitty makes an ambiguous rasping noise and admits, “I was jealous.”

Jack winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Yeah, I mean, apology accepted, whatever, just. I was jealous they got to be there for you every day, really be there in the moments I used to live through with you that I now know zilch about. I was used to that being me.” He then adds, much more grimly, “Except apparently I sucked ass at being there for you at all when it counted.”

Jack sighs. They veered off topic to talk about something Jack considers more important, but now they were back to that and he knows in the pit of his stomach that they, both of them, won’t be able to move on until they talk this through. This is a conversation they need to have, even if it would be easier for Jack to not have it at all. “Shitty. I need to tell you something.”

The thing about Shitty is that he has faults like the rest of them, but Jack has always known that he’d drop anything if Jack needed him. He knows because it goes unconditionally both ways. Shitty’s voice goes immediately even and he wastes no time before saying, “I'm listening.”

Jack swallows. It feels -- heavy, on his breastbones. It didn’t before, it didn’t at Jerry's. He doesn’t remember this weight from years ago, when he first talked about it with his parents, and then -- later, too much later -- with his therapist. His chest was so laden with other concerns then that there was no room for anything more, and this burden was only ever an afterthought. At Jerry's he was thinking of Bitty, of Bitty’s happiness and Jack's own happiness with him, and the necessity of the action for their joint happiness. It didn’t leave any space for this weight.

Now he can feel the weight. It’s stupid. Shitty already knows, and besides, it’s Shitty. Jack knows Shitty so well that he can practically predict the exact words he will use, and even if he couldn’t, he knows Shitty would never turn him away. Yet his chest feels tight, like he’s holding in all of his air, and his fingers are again shaking against his thigh. “Shitty, I'm dating Bittle.”

Shitty makes a baffled sound, clearly not expecting this choice of confession. “I -- yeah, dude, I know.”

“I’m dating Bittle,” Jack reiterates determinedly, eager to get it over with. “He’s a guy.”

Shitty goes quiet for a moment, and then he says, voice low, “Okay.”

Jack wasn’t sure he was going to say it, but now that they’re here, this is something he wants Shitty to know. “He’s not the first guy I’ve been with.”

Shitty’s sharp intake of breath at this is audible even over the phone, but other than that he doesn’t react outwardly. Jack's shaking hand lifts up to rub over his chest while he waits for Shitty to say something, and Shitty doesn’t keep him waiting long. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

That’s almost exactly the reaction Jack expected to hear, but for some reason he doesn’t feel settled. “It never came up before.”

“That’s okay, buddy,” Shitty reassures him. Jack’s not sure what Shitty is thinking, if he’s thinking anything at all. This probably isn’t as big a deal to him as it feels like to Jack.

Jack frowns down at the shadows of his socked feet in the dark, thinks it over, and then corrects, “No, actually -- no. It never came up with anyone else. But I did think of telling you. More than once. You were the only one… but I had reasons not to. Or, I thought I did.”

“That’s still cool, brah,” Shitty hurries to interrupt. “You don’t have to --”

“No, because,” Jack sighs, trails off midsentence. He doesn’t want Shitty to make this easy for him, to allow Jack to take the exit he’s being offered. He knows they could stop the discussion right there and Shitty would never say a thing, but he doesn’t want this to hang over their friendship for the rest of time, and he knows that it could if he doesn’t force himself to dig deeper. “Because when you assumed that if I had someone it must’ve been a girlfriend, it hurt. I didn’t realize before -- I thought I was upset because Bitty was hurt, and I hurt him even more with my reaction, and it mattered more at the time. But it hurt. And that’s not entirely fair to you, because you had no reason to think otherwise. Because I didn’t tell you.”

There’s more rustling in the background, and Shitty talks over him before the last word is out of his mouth. “Jack, no, you’re under no obligation to disclose your identity to anyone and it doesn’t give them any right to assume -- I assumed and it was so fucking wrong --”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, because it was. He’s not trying to argue that it wasn’t. Shitty was wrong, but that’s not the point Jack is trying to make.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Shitty sounds contrite, and Jack can almost imagine the look on his face now. The small wrinkle in his forehead, the downward slope of his mustache, the sharp angle of his jaw. Shitty always looks older when he feels guilty about something. “So fuckin’ sorry.”

“That’s okay, man. Eh. Well, it's not, but it's forgiven.” And it is, Jack knows. He’s already forgiven Shitty, would have to try so hard not to forgive Shitty. They’ve hurt each other in the past and they’ll most likely hurt each other again in the future, but it’s never done intentionally. Shitty’s friendship is worth all of this crap and always has.

“I guess I just... “ Shitty lowers his voice, and Jack has to press the phone harder into his ear to hear him. “Fuck, I don’t want to excuse my actions, this does not in any way justify the shit I said. But I guess, in my mind, even though I know you should never assume about anyone, I did think that because it’s you… that you’d tell me. If there was ever anything to tell.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says this time. He’s not sure Shitty knows this, but this is what he was trying to get to before. What Shitty is saying is reasonable even if it isn’t ideal.

“Fuck no. What the fucking fuck are you apologizing for, you idiot --”

“I’m not apologizing for not telling you, Shits,” Jack stops him before it becomes another rant. He’s growing tired of using so many words at once, feeling the toll of the unexpected emotional turmoil he’s dragging his overworked body through. “I know what you said was wrong, and I know I didn’t have to tell you. I’m saying I’m sorry if you were hurt by it. And I'm apologizing if it made you feel like I didn't trust you, or. Or some shit.”

Another pause follows Jack’s words, and he has to stifle the urge to collapse sideways into the couch and shove his face into a cushion until everything goes away. This conversation, as necessary as it is, doesn’t come naturally to either of them. They’ve been talking about their feelings for too long now and it’s starting to get awkward and overwhelming.

“I’m not saying I wasn’t super touched by your previous comment,” Shitty says, suddenly. “Because stereotypical masculinity is complete bullshit and I’m not ashamed to admit I teared the fuck up. But Jack -- Bitty has done some serious work on you. Or, like, you know, healthy relationships and all, you two worked on yourselves with each other to be better and all that, but. Man, I don’t think that’s a distinction you would’ve made six months ago.”

Jack considers it. The idea of someone’s hurt being valid even if the reason for it didn’t make sense probably isn’t a concept he would’ve been able to grasp, or at least would not have paid much thought to. Looking back, he was probably hurt dozens of times by little comments in the Haus, or things he heard around campus, or moments of feeling left out by his team; but when the reason for his hurt wasn’t completely logical it was harder for him to allow himself that pain. He would usually distract himself from it, instead. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“But can I just say again -- I'm so fucking sorry for being a heteronormative jackass. I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for hurting Bits, I’m sorry for --”

Esti de câlice de tabarnak. Jack drops his face into his palm and sighs over the string of Shitty’s rapidly escalating apologies. Jack is fully aware that Shitty is just going to apologize until they’re both old and gray if Jack doesn’t stop him. “Shitty, can you knock it?”

Shitty hesitates, but the flood of his words stops. “I miss you,” is what he says eventually.

Jack drops his hand down, leans his weight on his elbows and blinks at the dark room. Shitty used to tell him that all of the time. When they were apart on school breaks; when they were separated on roadies; when Jack had two lectures and a senior workshop on Wednesday nights and Shitty wouldn’t see him for several consecutive hours. Shitty’s affection was always abundant and inescapable, and Jack didn't know it was something he was lacking until he finally hears it. “I miss you, too, man.”

Shitty lets the gravity of it, the seriousness in Jack's voice settle between them, the earnestness he wouldn’t usually hand over easily when they were back at school. And then he says, “It’s hard as fuck, man. It’s hard to admit that it’s hard, too. It’s hard to see Lards’ pics from kegsters I can’t attend anymore, and it’s hard to find friends in this pretentious shithole full of pretensions dicks, and -- Harvard is fucking hard, Jack. And I hate being away from you guys, but I don’t wanna bring you down with my sad. You assholes are my goddamn family, there’s nothing that’s ever gonna replace that. It sucks knowing that I'm stuck here. I miss you so much it drives me fuckin’ insane.”

Jack knows, instantly and wholeheartedly, what Shitty is talking about. He’s living his dream and he loves the Falcs and he’s sincerely grateful for all of it even on his worst days. But sometimes stepping off the ice after a grueling practice and getting pictures of Bitty, laughing with Holster and Ransom on the ice at Faber -- it aches somewhere deep inside him. Sometimes he lies awake in foreign hotel rooms in foreign cities, and while most nights he longs for nothing more than Bitty’s presence, others he closes his eyes and wishes Shitty was there to crawl into his bed again. Sometimes he puts on his jersey before games and imagines the blue and yellow are red and white. His team from Samwell is his family, too, and sometimes missing them feels like missing an amputated limb.

“I wish we got to see each other more,” Jack squeezes out. His windpipe feels strangled, and for a moment he thinks that if he blinks too hard tears might well up again. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s so tired his body is shutting down, or because he’s been holding on to more emotions than he previously thought. “I didn’t know --. I feel the same way, Shitty, but I didn’t know you felt like that. I’m sorry we didn’t really talk much lately.”

It wasn’t something Jack was consciously aware of, but he more or less assumed that if Shitty was ever struggling he would just reach out for help. Shitty was always the better one of the two of them at communicating his feelings, at saying when he needed something or was going through a rough time. It never occurred to Jack to reach out and ask because he always figured that Shitty would come to him first. It's a startling realization. He really isn’t as good a friend as Shitty deserves.

“‘S not your fault,” Shitty objects, even though in some ways it really is. But Shitty means it, Jack knows, despite the lingering hints of anxiety. Shitty wouldn’t say it if he didn’t honestly believe it wasn’t Jack’s fault.

“Maybe, but you should make time for the things that matter to you, right? I’ll try to be better about that. I wanna be there for you, too.”

Shitty sighs, and the tails of it turn into a breathy, weary laugh. “Fuck, Jacko, this is a fuckin’ sobfest. Shit, man. Yeah. I’ll try, too. We could Skype, even. You know I miss that mug of yours.”

Jack finally pulls the phone away from his ear, wipes the sweat tracks away and switches the call to speakerphone. His calendar app is full of cute little reminders Bitty leaves anonymously, like 06:30 work hard and have fun! or 11:11 someone is thinking of you. He’s developed a habit of checking his calendar often these past six months, counting down the days until he gets to see Bitty next. He’s sure it won’t be easy, especially with the progression of the Falconers’ season, but from now on he’ll have to make every effort to fit more people into his schedule. Bitty makes him happy, but he’s not the only one who does.

Jack scrolls through the events logged into his upcoming week. He’s got a game on Monday and one at home on Wednesday, and then Thursday is American Thanksgiving. Bitty is throwing together a whole meal for the Samwell team. He told Jack that he’s under no obligation to come if practice time doesn’t allow it, but... “Are you going to Hausgiving on Thursday?”

Shitty curses loudly. “Fuck, I fuckin’ wish, but I don’t know if that’s smart. I’ve got this fuckin’ test coming up. But I promised Lar-- uh --”

Jack smirks, even if it’s only to himself in an empty apartment. Lardo texted him after Jerry’s to let him know that the two of them will exchange deets privately like civilized bros, but Shitty still seems to be under the illusion that he’s fooling someone. Like his heart-eyes haven’t been obvious from space -- and Jack is painfully aware that if he noticed, that really says something. “Lardo, eh? Not getting out of that one.”

He can almost see Shitty’s answering furious blush from all those miles away. “Fuck you, Zimmermann, don’t make this about me. What I was sayin’ is, I wanna be there super freakin’ bad -- we all know I will gladly sell my right leg for Bitty’s cooking --”

“And for Lardo’s company,” Jack chirps, incredibly satisfied with this turn of conversation.

“I will fuck you right up, don’t you think I won’t!” Shitty threatens emptily, even though Jack takes him down every single time. “Seriously. Your bro becomes a pro athlete and suddenly he thinks he’s a goddamn comedian. Anyway. For Bitty’s cooking, I will make an effort. You got team stuff?”

“No,” Jack says with finality, swiping his calendar closed. He always feels better when things are put into action. “I think I’m going.”

“For Bitty?” Shitty asks, most likely trying to chirp Jack back.

“Well. Yes,” Jack says, perfectly honest. He’s not in any way ashamed of how much he wants to be near Bitty all of the time. He doesn’t think he can remember ever being less ashamed of anything in his life. “But also for you. Think you can meet me there?”

Shitty’s quiet. And then he says, “For my best friend? I’ll meet you halfway across the universe, Jackabelle.”

After the two of them hang up the call, Jack doesn’t move, his eyes fixed blindly in the direction of the windows across the room. His food is growing cold on the coffee table, but Jack thinks that at this point he might genuinely be too tired to eat. Whatever little energy he had left after the game was spent on this conversation with Shitty. He doesn’t regret it; they needed to say all of those things. Jack needed to hear all of those things, both so he could forgive Shitty for something he didn’t know he was holding onto, and so he could work on being a more considerate friend.

The game plan is solid, though, Jack decides. Thanksgiving dinner at the Haus will bring the opportunity to be completely honest with his friends after months of hiding a big aspect of his life from them. And it’d be fun, too. Ransom would put together actual charts for the seating arrangement, and Holster would draw everyone into a betting pool on the football game results, and Bitty would inevitably prepare insane amounts of food using the frogs as his sous chefs. He would probably insist that they’d hold hands around the table and say one thing each of them wants to give thanks for, as well.

Jack doesn’t mind American Thanksgiving, but he’s never really seen the point of that ritual. He’s known for a long time now what he's truly grateful for.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

mammon with a overly emotional MC? asking bcs I cry too much lol, the story would just make everytime I cry a bit better :))

Ok, first off anon, SAME. I also had a dad that thought crying was just women trying to manipulate men, so yeah, that was fun.

I was in the middle of writing something else when I got your request and I just felt like I had to write something for you. (And myself, let’s be honest lol) I’ve never done a songfic before, but I couldn’t get this song out of my head and it just seemed to fit perfectly with the idea I had.

I hope you enjoy. ☺️

Emotional

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1804

Content warnings - light angst, lots of comfort and some fluffy cuddles

Prompt/inspiration - anon request, “Emotional” by Diana DeGarmo

NOTE - the original song uses the word “girl”, this has been removed in this story and replaced with [gender]

Summary - After a rough day at RAD, you hide out in your room while Mammon tries to figure out what’s wrong.

NOTE - lyric free version can be found here.

AO3

Today had been a long day. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for whatever reason, anytime someone so much as looked at you funny, you felt like crying. The voices in your head whispering to you that they were watching you, judging you.

Mammon had tried on several occasions to pull you aside, but you successfully managed to slip away each time. Normally you were so grateful for his company, but today you just knew that if he asked you if you were okay you were going to lose it.

And you absolutely did not want to lose it in the middle of RAD.

You flopped onto your bed, now in the safety of your room, curling up on yourself and pulling your comforter around you. Finally you were able to let out all the stress that had been holding onto. And just as you started to cry, a loud KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK on your door shocked you back to your senses.

“Hey, open up! You’ve been avoidin’ me all day.”

It was Mammon.

Not even taking a moment to think about what you actually wanted, you snapped at him.

“GO AWAY.”

Sometimes I get emotional

Sometimes I do some stupid things

Sometimes I say

What I should just keep inside

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Your tone was sharper than you had intended, but not only that, you didn’t really want him to leave. Part of you wanted him to wrap you up in one of his hugs and just hold you while you fell to pieces in his arms. However, you learned a long time ago that only babies cried. If you were strong, you wouldn’t cry so much. That crying was a burden on and an annoyance to everyone around you.

Sometimes I'm sad

'Bout everything

Sometimes I'm mad

And break some things

Sorry times ten

But you just got in the way

The silence that followed made your heart break. You couldn’t tell if you were more sad at the idea that you had hurt Mammon’s feelings or more hurt that he seemed to have just left you without even trying to figure out what’s wrong. If he cared, surely he would have been more persistent, right? And you knew that was a ridiculous thing to think, manipulative even, but you couldn’t help those feelings that coiled around your heart.

Don't give up now running away

I won't hurt you

Sometimes I'm just a pain

And that's the way it is

That's just the way I am

Resolving to spending the evening alone, you laid back down, curling up as small as possible once again. As your thoughts wandered, and your tears fell, you slowly started to drift off to sleep. You didn’t notice when your bedroom door opened. You didn’t notice the smell of hot chocolate wafting into your room. And you didn’t notice the dip in your mattress as someone climbed in beside you.

Sometimes I feel like crying

Laying down and dying

That's when I need you

In fact, it wasn’t until you felt an arm slip around your waist and a kiss on the exposed skin of your neck that you finally started to become aware of what was going on around you.

“Hey,” Mammon whispered as he settled down in your bed, spooning you from behind.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your body stiffen involuntarily. Why was he here? Had he seen your face? Did he know you had been crying? Tears silently slipped down your face again as you started to panic internally. What was he going to say when he realized?

Laughing's always easy

But sometimes I'm just scared

You'll leave me

That's when I feel

Emotional

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere until ya tell me what’s wrong.”

“I...umm…” you wanted to answer him. Make an excuse. Offer some sort of rational explanation for why you were hiding in your room and had been avoiding him all day. Something told you just saying “there’s something in my eye” wasn’t going to fool him.

“Tch, always gotta be so difficult,” Mammon said. You felt his arms release you as he sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. If you thought you had been anxious before when he was laying beside you, it was nothing compared to the feeling of him leaving, with the words “difficult” echoing in your ears.

You say I'm just impossible

Totally unpredictable

I'm just a [gender], get used to it

No big deal

“Here. Sit up.”

But before your thoughts got to turn too dark, Mammon was sitting beside you again. Poking you with his elbow as he nudged you in the back. So surprised were you to find that he was still there and hadn’t left, you turned around immediately to look at him.

Despite his dark skin tone, you could tell he was blushing, and even if you couldn’t, his refusal to look at you would have been more than enough to confirm that he was feeling embarrassed. Your gaze slowly traveled downward until it landed on the tray he was holding in his outstretched hands.

“What’s this?” you asked, puzzled at why Mammon was offering you a mug of hot chocolate, and what appeared to be...cookies…? Only they were slightly burnt, and you weren’t sure you recognized the ingredients he had added in lieu of chocolate chips.

“What’s it look like? I had some extra and thought you might want some. But if ya don’t appreciate it…”

Not wanting to discourage Mammon, you quickly sat up, wiping whatever tears remained on your face away, and took the tray from him.

“...thanks.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as you studied his gift, smirking at your response.

Once you were situated with your back against your headboard, you placed the tray in your lap and Mammon sat down beside you. He grabbed his mug of hot chocolate, taking a sip as he waited for your reaction. He was pretty impressed with the results of his baking skills, and was certain the treats would put a smile on your face.

You can't change me

Why would you try (Why would you try)

(You know that I) I'm no angel

But I can make you smile

You reached for one of the cookies, a soft smile playing on your lips as you took a bite.

“So? How was it? Good right?”

When you didn’t answer, Mammon gave you another nudge with his arm.

“Right?”

Without a word, you returned the cookie to your plate, picking up the cup of hot chocolate instead, taking a deep gulp in an attempt to cleanse your palate.

“Mammon...honey...that was awful…” you looked at him over the rim of your mug, taking another deep swallow. At least the hot chocolate was delicious.

“Whattya talkin’ about?! They’re perfect!” Mammon replied, quick to shove what remained of your first cookie into his mouth. You continued to watch him while sipping on your beverage, slowly now that the initial foul aftertaste seemed to have been gone.

You tried your best to hide the smile that was threatening to spread over your whole face as Mammon froze mid bite, glancing at the plate of cookies, then at you, then back to the cookies, before finally chugging down what remained of his own mug of hot chocolate, desperate to rid his mouth of every last crumb.

When his mug emptied, you offered him your own, laughing at his reaction.

“Shaddup,” he snapped, eagerly taking the cup from you and polishing off its contents. But he wasn’t mad. Not at all. He was relieved and overjoyed to see you smiling again, interacting with him and no longer pushing him away.

And that's the way it is

That's just the way I am

When he finished what remained of your drink, he took the tray from you, sitting it on the floor beside your bed, before turning back to you and wrapping you up in a tight hug. Now much more relaxed than you had been, you wrapped your arms around his waist, returning the gesture and burying your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It's fine. Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you, “Are ya gonna tell me what happened now?”

You nodded against him, tightening your arms around him as you clung to him.

“I just...I don’t know...had a bad day, I guess. Everything made me just want to cry. And I know it’s ridiculous. I’m an adult. I should…”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Huh?”

“With cryin’. What’s wrong with that? Ain’t ya the one that told me it was ok to let it all out?” Mammon had leaned back now, resting against your headboard, pulling you up against himself as he began to rub your back, pressing an occasional kiss to your forehead.

“I...uh...well, I just...I’ve always been told I cry too much. I’m too emotional. Like little things that wouldn’t bother anyone, upset me. And I didn’t want to annoy you...so I…”

“Dummy. I dunno know why you’d think I’d feel that way. You never act like that with me.”

Sometimes I feel like crying

Laying down and dying

That's when I need you

Mammon gave you a reassuring squeeze, and yet another kiss to the top of your head. All you could do in response was hold him tighter, pulling your legs up so that you were practically sitting in his lap by now.

You weren’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to you before. You honestly never saw the connection. And if you stopped and thought about it, Mammon had easily cried more times in front of you since you had arrived in the Devildom than you had cried at all (in public or private) during your stay.

You always reassured him, and comforted him. You never laughed at him, or thought for one second that he was a burden for opening up to you. In fact, you never felt more loved than when he would let you see that sensitive, emotional, side to himself because you knew how much it meant that he trusted you.

Why did you ever think he wouldn’t treat you with the same love and care you had always shown him?

Laughing's always easy

But sometimes I'm just scared

You'll leave me

That's when I feel

Emotional

I won't hurt you (I won't hurt you)

Sometimes I'm just a pain

And that's the way it is

That's just the way I am

That's when I need you

Laughing's always easy

But sometimes I'm just scared

You'll leave me

That's when I feel (feel you)

I feel you

Sometimes I get emotional

[i-need-entertainment]

Just Right

Character: Chronostasis x short reader

*In this story the reader is about 5′0, Chrono is in the 5′9-6′0 range*

*DISCLAIMER, I will do my absolute best to portray a short reader but I can only be so accurate...since I myself am 5′9..BUT I love the idea and will do my best! Thank you to @goblinchild99​ for requesting! I hope you enjoy it!!<3

TW- Mean words from dad, reader self doubts, mentions of insecurities

“Wait…what..?” Your heart shattered as you sat in front of your stone-faced parents. Your family was head of one of the many Yakuza of Japan, and your father was a cold and ruthless man not like your mother was much better. “You will be given to the Shie Hassaikai. What they do with you is none of my concern, but for our sake and for your own, behave. I know you are not wanted because of your…stature…but do not be a bother. I don’t want you being sent back h ere, I cannot imagine the shame you would bring to our name if you upset the new young leader.” 

You held back tears at your father’s decree. ‘Given…? Is that all I’m good for… To be given as a peace treaty when one of my brothers makes a mistake… Why do I have to pay the price for their actions…why am I just being used as compensation?’ Quickly wiping the tear that fell you stood up and left the room, going to your room to pack since you’d be leaving that evening. You sat down on your bed, sobs racking your body as you clutched your small frame. Your whole life you had been treated as an outcast, as the disappointment of the family. All because…because what? Because you were shorter than most? Because you were more ‘petite’? Just because you were small it didn’t make you any less important…any less deserving of love and affection. Instead you were being bargained off for ‘peace’. The sadness you felt was replaced by frustration. You angrily took out a suitcase and filled it with clothes, precious items, and whatever toiletries you knew you’d need. Without saying a word you rolled your suitcase out of your room, where an underling of some sort took it from your, and made your way to your parents. “Goodbye mom…dad…I wish you both the best.” You hugged your mom while your dad gave you a nod. “Make us proud, Y/n.” You held back your tears at your dad’s heartless reply and instead chose to nod, walking out the door and never looking back. After a good 2 ½ hour drive you made it to your new home, the Shie Hassaikai Headquarters. Where you would spend the rest of your life…Now anyone in your position would probably assume the worst..especially being a small female. But you were more afraid of being killed than…that. I mean, Overhaul was a major germaphobe so that stilled some worries you supposed…The car stopped and you shook yourself from your daydreams. Unbuckling your seat belt you exited the car, thanked the driver and made your way to the front gate. There to greet you was a man, who was much taller than you, wearing a white raincoat that reached just below his knees with black shiny boots. But the things that stood out to you the most was the hood he had covering his head, and the mask that covered his face. “Y/n L/n?” You looked up to the man, meekly nodding. He waved over one of the other masked associates, this time a man with a black mask, coat and hat to get your bag. The man in the white coat turned towards you. You couldn’t see his eyes but you could feel them burning holes through you. “Follow me, Overhaul would like to meet you.” You nodded, “But, put this on first…and don’t touch him, I imagine you wouldn’t like to die on your first day here.” You stilled as you shakily took the white medical mask and put it on, clasping your shaking hands together as you followed behind the strangely dressed man. “You don’t talk much…do you?” You looked up as you walked through the dim hallways of the Shie Hassaikai basement. “No…not to strangers, anyway…” You tried your best to sound normal, but you couldn’t deny you were scared. And rightfully so! “Yeah, well that might actually do you well here, you’re less likely to tick him off then.” You made a sound to let him know you understood, still not feeling well enough to answer him with a real response just yet. The two of you stopped at a door. Being raised in a Yakuza family you were no stranger to scary encounters, but this would be the scariest you’ve ever faced by far. Let alone faced by yourself. The man, who you had to have learned his name knocked on the door, answering that ‘L/n was there’ before the boss man told him (and you) to enter. Entering the office you were ushered over to the couch to sit down. So now here you were sitting directly across from a man that could kill you with a single touch. “L/n, I’m sure you know who I am, yes?” You nodded your head, looking down with your hands crossed in your lap. Overhaul may not have been the biggest guy, but he was still easily almost a foot taller than you…not to mention he had a fairly big build. “I won’t lie to you, I wasn’t fond of your fathers implications of why he was sending you here, but I assure you I have no intentions of following through with his original plans.” Your head shot up at this. “You may be small in stature, and it’s true that could be a weakness, but you also have a strong quirk. I’m offering you a place here, amongst me and the precepts…not everyone gets that opportunity. Should you choose to take it you will be taken care of, and your abilities will be praised.” You felt like you could cry, not from fear, but from being…wanted. “So? Will you join the Hassaikai, not as whatever it was your father wanted, but as apart of it?” Your face took on a determined look, “…I’ll do it. I know I’m not the strongest, and I’m not very strong, but I promise to do my best. Thank you..” Overhaul’s expression changed to a happy one. “Wonderful, I am aware of your inability to fight or defend yourself, so I’m putting you directly under Chronostasis,” He motioned for the said man to step forward. “Chrono, become acquainted with her, show her the ropes, teach her to fight, and utilize her natural abilities. Consider her your…assistant for now. Understood?” Chronostasis as you had learned his name was nodded, “Yes sir, come on L/n, I’ll show you around the base.” You nodded, standing up you bowed, “Thank you for this opportunity, I’ll do my best.” Overhaul nodded, walking passed you to his desk. “The pleasure is mine. You both are dismissed.” With that the two of you left the room and started navigating the hallways. “I’ll show you around first before getting started on what you’ll be doing here if that’s okay with you.” You nodded, “That’s fine.” You started walking, while you were talking he showed you the different rooms, which ones to avoid and which ones you’d be spending a lot of time in. “This is my office, which will be yours now too I guess.” He opened the door and stepped in. You didn’t follow. “…I’m sorry…” He turned around, “For what?” You nervously looked down, hands wringing together. “For being a burden…” He sighed, lightly guiding you into the room. “Listen, you’re not a burden, in all seriousness I could use the help, Overhaul gives me too much as it is anyways. And…I have a pretty good idea of how you were treated at your family’s Yakuza, and it kinda ticks me off. So I assure you, you’re not a bother.” You smiled at him, “Thank you…” “Yup.” He shut the door and sat down at his desk, motioning for you to do the same at the couch in the room. Without warning, he removed the mask he had on, the hood falling to his shoulders as he did so. “You can go ahead and take the mask off, I don’t wear mine when I’m not around Overhaul and he doesn’t care as long as you’re not interacting with him.” You sheepishly nodded, desperately trying to hide how flustered you were, because he was attractive. Not just the ‘oh yeah, he's good looking’ kind, more like the ‘Oh my gosh, I think I JUST DIED ‘ kind. He had the perfect proportions of traditional attractiveness and uniqueness to make him that much more appealing to you. He had sharp narrow dark gray-blue eyes, a jawline that could draw blood and a general intensity about him that made your heart stop beating. Remembering you were probably staring you quickly looked away. But something else about him caught your eye…his hair. It was a white silvery color, and medium in length, but as you examined him further you noticed the ends of his hair ended in arrow shapes. “Is that part of your quirk?” His dark eyes met yours, he figured you’d ask, most anyone who had ever seen him asked sooner or later. But when he looked at you, you weren’t looking at him like he was a freak. Your eyes held an innocent and honest curiosity. With no malice to be seen. “I’m sorry if that came off as weird or rude!! It’s just…I’ve never seen anything like it…” He nodded, “It’s fine, I kinda figured you would. My quirk is called Chronostasis. I can extend these clock needle things to pierce someone, but I need to be extremely still. If I do pierce someone I can slow them down, but the length depends on which hand I struck them with. If I use the minute,” He pointed to one of the ‘clock needles’ on the end of his hair, “They’re slowed for a minute, same thing if I use the hour.” He looked at you, noticing your expression. “I know it’s weird but-“ “I don’t think it’s weird.” He looked at you in shock, “You don’t? You can be honest, it’s pretty weird.” You shook your head, that honest and sincere glint never leaving your e/c eyes. “I think they’re really cool…beautiful…even..” In his 22 years of life, no one had ever told him his quirk was cool, let alone beautiful. If words could kill, Chronostasis would probably be dead. The red tint on his cheeks giving aware his flusteredness. “A-Uh..Thanks…What’s your quirk anyway?” “It’s called Seamless…Um basically I can sew without using needles, controlling the threads and what not…but it only works on sewing things, I can’t use it on people or anything..” You looked up, expecting him to be bored only to see interest gleaming in his eyes. “Sounds cool to me, useful too.” Never in your life had you felt so secure, safe, appreciated…it felt good. It felt good to know there were people out there who wanted you, even if it was just for work it still felt nice. Fast forward a bit, you’ve been with the Hassaikai for a year now. You had cemented your place here, and you felt great. You didn’t use your quirk too much, but you did save them a lot of money on clothes. You had also become a lot closer to Chrono, or Kurono Hari as you had learned his name was, and called him in private. You talked a lot, ranting to each other about your problems, spending time together even if it was just doing your own things in silent. It was safe to say the two of you had become good friends, but more than that you had developed feelings for the man. That was why you were on your current mission, making your way to Overhaul’s office. You knocked, and after hearing a ‘come in’ entered. He was sitting at his desk, fiddling with papers and what not. “Ah, L/n, what can I help you with?” You walked to stand in front of his desk, nervously messing with your fingers and fidgeting. “…I came to ask you something…” Overhaul sighed as he set his pen down, leaning to place his chin in his hand, which was propped up on his desk. “Oh? What is it? I take it everything is going fine?” Over the past year besides getting close to Chronostasis, you had also gotten close to Overhaul. Although you noticed he acted very protective of you, like an older brother. You had asked him about it a few months ago, he had simply told you he had met with your father a few years ago when he accompanied a business meeting with Pops. He had seen how you were treated and it made him sick especially because of how much potential you showed. In his own special way, you knew he cared somewhat about you. You nodded your head. “Everything’s fine, great, actually…I need to talk to you about something else…someone else….”. His eyebrow raised in interest, he pretended to act surprised but he had an inkling of why you were really here. “I want your permission to…to…” You opened your mouth to speak but ultimately chose to close it, not really knowing how to go forward. He sighed again, leaning back in his chair while his hands clasped together, resting by his mouth. “Let me guess…you’d like my permission to pursue a relationship with Chronostasis? Am I correct?” You felt heat raise to your face as you stiffened. ‘How did he…?’ “I may seclude myself to this office and limit my interactions with people to a minimum, but I’m not blind. I am well aware of he feelings the both of you have for each other.” You gulped, here it comes…”I don’t care, just don’t let it get in the way of your work. But if it ends the pitiful gazes and flirting between the two of you, by all means, get married for all I care.” Your eyes widened as your brain proceeded to implode. “A-are you sure?! You really don’t mind?!” He looked at you in disbelief before shrugging. “Nope, just don’t do any of that lovey-dovey stuff around me, affection like that makes me nauseas.” You nodded, “I promise.” He nodded and got up, walking you to the door. “…I’m trusting you won’t tell him what I’m about to say but, take care of him…He’s stupidly in love with you, so I know he’ll take care of you, but please be good to him…” You smiled, nodding your head. “I will…wait, did you say he’s in lo-“ “Time for you to go, goodbye L/n.” Before you could refute, he pushed you out of the room, shut the door and locked it. Sighing, you made you way to your and Chrono’s office, finally ready to tell the man of your dreams your feelings. To most you may be considered ‘short’ or ‘small’, and to some they might even think of you as ‘inadequate’ or ‘lesser’ than them. At one point you probably thought Chrono felt that way. (but as you were soon about to find out)But to Chrono? You were just right, just...perfect.