#where i will be perceived but no other expectations exist. i get shy about it sometimes but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jae-canikeepyou · 4 years ago

Text

| into you | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k+

summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.

genre: fluff + elite!au

a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.

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seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.

so did coming today.

but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.

he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.

they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.

“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”

jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.

“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.

he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”

“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”

“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.

and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”

the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“

the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.

clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.

and that’s when the comments started coming in.

“park seojoon is so hot.” “hey remember to use ‘professor’.” “i guess genes runs in the family.” “his sister is ethereal too.” “i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.” “y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”

jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.

you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.

jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.

he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.

“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.

“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.

“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.

it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.

“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”

“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.

you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.

lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.

“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”

“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.

“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.

“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”

before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”

you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”

jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”

“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.

i wasn’t. “whatever.”

and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.

yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.

as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”

you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”

his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.

“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”

“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”

“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”

for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.

to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.

was it your magic that caused him to do so?

you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.

to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.

“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-

“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”

your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.

jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”

he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”

“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”

his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”

“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”

“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”

“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.

“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.

you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”

—

including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.

“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.

jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.

because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.

“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.

“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.

“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.

he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”

jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”

“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.

“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.

“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.

he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”

“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.

“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”

“suit yourself.”

since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,

it had to be you.

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you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.

you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.

however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.

and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.

yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.

“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.

“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.

he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”

you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”

“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”

“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.

and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.

“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.

“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”

jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.

“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”

what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”

“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”

“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”

now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”

yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”

“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.

the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.

yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.

“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”

“yeah kinda.”

“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.

“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”

“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”

he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”

“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.

“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”

jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”

what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”

“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.

while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.

he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.

you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”

“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.

“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.

“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.

you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.

in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.

however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.

he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”

the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”

“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.

“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”

“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”

you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”

yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.

jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”

“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”

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your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.

but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.

“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.

you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.

jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.

he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.

“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”

“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.

he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”

“do what?” you snicker.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”

oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.

even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.

but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.

—

the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.

and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”

warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.

“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”

“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”

that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.

surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.

but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.

because it was so clear now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.

jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”

you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”

maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.

just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..

your phone vibrated.

in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.

“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.

the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.

“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”

“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”

“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.

he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

funny how he was so damn wrong.

fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.

he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.

an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite��.

you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”

sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.

“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.

“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”

“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”

not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.

“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”

truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.

jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?

“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.

“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.

“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.

“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.

this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”

yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”

my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”

“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”

“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”

jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.

you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.

he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.

“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”

the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.

sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.

jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”

“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”

jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.

all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.

in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.

yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”

“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.

“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”

“i don’t want things to be different dude.”

“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”

“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”

you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.

his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”

“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”

“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”

now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.

jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”

you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”

“clearly.”

as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.

“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”

he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.

“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—

jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”

your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.

“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.

“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”

“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.

“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”

#jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 #nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun nct #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfic

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studiojeon · 3 years ago

Text

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | - how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :)

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break.

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus.

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would.

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time.

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building.

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?”

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway”

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack.

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do like a short story post or something I wonder how Our General Kirigan would react to a shy reader? Would he tease her? Be frustrated with her? And how would she react? Idk maybe just a thought 😅 I asked you because i really like your writing and I feel like you would really do a good job and I like the way you portray the General. 😊

a/n i have been crying/feeling shitty for the past two days for no reason!! so i thought it might make me feel better to try writing headcanons! i have SO MANY half done requests/fics but as of recently i hate everything that i write!! so i thought i'd work on this request that lends itself to headcanons

also im glad you like my writing :))

General Kirigan with a shy! reader headcanons:

- First things first, I think how he interacts with someone shy that he sees as a (potential) romantic interest varies per situation. Like generally, he finds the timidness kind of soft which is so different from what he's used to that he finds that aspect kind of endearing.

- He'd never admit that at the beginning, but the more time you spend with him the clearer it becomes to you because of how he acts when you're alone together

- At first, he'd hold onto his usual stoic disposition, but after realizing that at the end of the day your shyness is genuine and not an attempt to seem meek in order to trick people/him he'd begin to tease you about it when you two are alone.

- The first time he makes a comment that's just a little,, kinda-almost suggestive (a comment about how he wonders what it'd be like to be a Heartrender so that he could hear the change in your heartbeat every time you shied away from something) you're too confused to be embarrassed for like two seconds.

- You're basically that meme that's like did I hear that shit righttt??

- So you meet his gaze, and there's absolutely nothing but warm confidence there and you realize that he had in fact,,, said that.

- You hold his gaze for a moment out of protest (which is an incredible feat) and then you have to drop your eyes to the floor. You mumble some comment about how his ability to summon shadows isn't exactly a boring skill.

- Your reaction is so soft,, Kirigan can't help but be endeared even further. Something he wasn't exactly expecting and isn't too thrilled about. He doesn't think being shy makes you weak,, but he's extremely wary about how you're perceived and how people may treat you because of it.

- He doesn't doubt his ability to protect you, but he doesn't want to be distracted,, not with all he has to do.

- Still, he can't help mumble comments whenever there's a brief pause and you two are alone

- Meanwhile, you're starting to notice that now more situations keep coming up when you're left alone with Kirigan?? like he's always in the library when you are, he's always walking in to assess training when you're training and he just so happens to linger until you leave and then he just so happens needs to walk in the same hallway.

- It's a little strange at first,, but you're more horrified by the fact that you're not mad about it than the fact that it's happening. Especially since you know how much joy he gets from getting you flustered. You can see that in that slightly cocky uptilt to his lips whenever you're left gaping at him.

- Why doesn't it bother you?? You try to rationalize it and the only conclusion you can come to is the fact that he's attractive and powerful and even though your face gets hot whenever he talks to you,, there's appeal in those qualities. There's appeal in getting the infamous General to smile.

- Even if it costs you the bit of pride you have.

- You don't get why you're the one he seems to be going out of his way to speak to (maybe when your life is as stressful as his is,, at the end of the day you just want something easy and if he's in the mood to be flirty, you're easy) but you're not mad. You just have to constantly remind yourself to not be foolish enough to think you're the only one he goes out of his way to talk to.

- And as time progresses, you get a little more comfortable with his banter. You stop shying away completely,, which only encourages him to get bolder with his comments.

- Nothing insane,, not yet, just a little more direct.

- It kind of becomes a little game to him,, to see how flustered he can get you with the minimal amount of effort. Every once in awhile, you manage to act normally, but he's quick to shut that down by upping his game just slightly.

- After awhile, it starts to become a game for you too, to see how much of your instincts you can suppress just to take away some of his satisfaction. Only when he's getting a little too smug.

- But that's when y'all are alone...

- When you're surrounded by others, sometimes it feels like you don't even exist to each other. Sometimes that's a lonely feeling for both of you, but each of you is convinced that they're the only one that feels the absence.

- In your defense, you're much more entitled to those feelings because he can literally do whatever he wants. You can't just walk up to the General and do what?? ask him why he hasn't made any suggestive comment in the last couple of hours??

- please that embarrassing!! even if you weren't shy, that would be out of POCKET

- Meanwhile Kirigan is just like being angsty and debating the implications of seeking you out in an environment with so many important people. He could probably manage a minute or two by your side without making anyone suspicious, but the danger in that is that he won't be able to bring himself to leave after those minutes pass him.

- Worse,, he may even find an excuse for both of you to step out into the hall so that he can make his comments and take in your reactions in private.

- It's especially difficult when you have that one strand of hair just slightly out of place,, presenting the perfect excuse for him to just fix it and then drop his hand slowly so that his fingertips can brush the side of your cheek.

- And you're growing tired of the crowds of people you're not comfortable with and you're starting to feel more and more stupid for letting something that was so clearly just a playful distraction mean anything to you.

- But before either of you can succumb to your angsty pinning (cough, cough,, simps) his eyes will find yours from across the room and that's EVERYTHING

- At first, you want to be stiff and look away because it's probably not intentional, but then he gives you that little smirk. And then you feel stupid for ever doubting that you two at least have some kind of friendship. (maybe more,, but you're too scared to let yourself think that,, ;))

- And then you give him this shy smile,, and that's it. He's done--that one look undoes him entirely.

- So he starts shifting towards you as casually as possible, because if he can't be with you right now, surely being near you is good enough for now.

- You're unaware of this,, and when the moment ends you find yourself longing for more, but relatively satisfied. You don't expect anything from him, he's important and you're you.

- And being around people drains you because you genuinely want to stay out of any situation that would have too much attention on you at once. So once Kirigan moves and you can't find him in the crowd, you decide now is as good a time as any to step out and get some air, especially since no one currently needs you for anything.

- So you disappear into the corridor, planning to be gone only for a few minutes. But the second you're about two steps into the hallway, you hear another's footsteps.

- The hopeful part of you is like 'maybe it's him!!' but you don't really think that. There's something about the atmosphere that feels too tense,, too wrong for you to believe it's him.

- A moment later, your suspicions are confirmed. A grisha known for his impulsiveness is calling out to you, asking you where you're going.

- You explain that you just wanted to get some air and that you'd be returning in a minute. You try to sound dismissive, clearly establishing that you'd like your minute to yourself.

- It's clear that he understands the hint, but he doesn't move. He just keeps asking you questions.

- Your answers get shorter and shorter, the nerves your feeling tensing with each word as he begins to venture from falsely casual conversation to more flirtatious words. Being shy can leave you speaking too much, spluttering out words in hopes of saying the right thing to let you escape, but this is a different type of nervousness. Something feels wrong.

- And he just keeps saying things, things that even Kirigan wouldn't be able to get away with.

- All the while, you're desperate to escape, but they're persistent.

- And just when you're losing hope, and his advances get so bold he has you literally backed into a corner--a familiar voice comes to you like a lifeline.

- Kirigan, with all the authority of the general, questions what's going on. The guy that was so relentlessly hitting on you moves back like suddenly you're fire and begins to back away. He tries to explain himself but Kirigan is not having it.

- As soon as the stranger leaves, you feel like you can breathe again, but your nerves are still on edge. Kirigan's looking at you in a way you've never seen before. Sharp and almost--almost angry?

- You try to mumble a quick thanks, intending to disappear back to where you're supposed to be, but Kirigan's gaze keeps you planted against the wall.

- His gaze is so intense you ask him if he's alright.

- The question cracks something in him because of course you'd ask him if he's okay after something happened to you. His expression softens slightly, which you think is a good thing but then he speaks,, and his voice is not calm at all

- He's mad at the person that did that and the irrational part of him makes it seem like he's a little mad at you for letting that situation happen, but it's only because he's worried about what would have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time.

- And you're kind of confused because like?? what does he want from you? you made it clear you were uncomfortable and you were trying to get away?

- But after a quick snap and the fact that you're okay settles in,, he does feel a little bad. So he comes close to apologizing,, but that's basically just him saying he's glad that you're okay.

- You don't really ease, so he decides to make a partial joke about how maybe he needs to be around you more,, just to be safe,, you know

- And you smile slightly, and you're like 'y'know i'm not completely helpless.'

- and he's like 'pity,, i would've liked the excuse'

- your face instantly feels extremely warm and you're not sure what you could even, plausibly say to that. But you can't let him have the last word,, not like that. So you're overcompensating, rambling, but then at the end...you say something about how he doesn't really need an excuse to stay near you.

- When you realize what you've said, fight or flight kicks in,, but you can't move. And there's no casual way to escape, so you decide that maybe you'll cut your losses for today because that might have been your most significant reply to him ever, and you feel like an idiot because he was probably joking. And you just had to say that and make it weird.

- So you allow exactly one second of unfortunate silence, your eyes glued to the ground. And then you make some excuse about needing to get back to where you were.

- But Kirigan stops you, and you think about how you can't avoid looking him in the eyes forever, so you just kind of barely dare to glance upwards.

- And he's smiling broader than usual, the look is so warm it melts away all the bad feelings from earlier. You have absolutely no idea what it means, but you know it's not...bad.

- And then he shifts slightly, and that's when you realize he's never been this close before.

- He then asks if you're sure, voice much lower than earlier.

- You can't speak,, too trapped on a line you don't understand.

- But as he leans forward, the only answer he needs is the instinctual part of your lips as his warm breath reaches your cheek.

- And with that he turns his head just a fraction of an inch,, and his lips meet yours.

- It's just a quick brush of lips,, a soft test. And when you don't protest, he moves to let the contact be a little more assured, yet still teasing.

- Something in you grows impatient, and you move a little in hopes that he'll take the hint.

- But that's all it takes for him to pull away, expression bright and teasing before playfully chiding you for being so eager.

- He then turns, leaving you more flustered than ever.

#request #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morovoza x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #netflix shadow and bone #sab #sab imagine

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scraps-pile · 2 years ago

Text

A Slightly Pessimistic Look at Stranger Things: This Could be Gayer

okay, I have a big chunk of analytical crap to say about Stranger Things, and specifically why the romances aren't going to work across the board. buckle your seatbelts, cuz it's my post, I'm driving, and we're about to hit all the plot holes.

(or like... that but with narrative themes instead.)

okay, so. I'm gonna say something that sounds obvious, and then I'm gonna talk about it for a very long time. Stranger Things, in general, is a show about the things normal culture fails to acknowledge. and that extends to both the supernatural elements of the show, and true information about the lives and identities of a lot of its characters.

I want to kind of make a case study of the series' main love triangle, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, and in particular, I want to talk about why they don't work romantically. starting from baseline season one, I would say all of them are people who suffer under normal culture.

Steve is a popular jock, and to an outside observer, he's got it made. but his friends kind of suck, and they don't seem that close to him. to me, he acts like someone who mostly just wants attention, and he performs behaviors like bullying or bigotry to keep his foothold in the social hierarchy. most prominently, he sets himself up as the kind of jock loverboy archetype... every girl's high school sweetheart. which only further emphasizes that he's mostly doing this for his own gratification, and romance is where he most distinctly finds that. in some way or another, he's searching for companionship. he's just got shitty social skills with which to do that.

meanwhile, Nancy is pigeonholed into this kind of studious prissy perfect good girl role... but at the root of that, she's an achiever. certainly there is a part of her that thinks Steve is cute and wants to date him for that reason, but there's also a part of her that wants to gain a foothold in the same social hierarchy that Steve has already situated himself in. Steve is someone people generally approve of, and gaining him is an achievement of sorts. and she feels like she has to attach herself to him in order to move on up the social ladder. she'll grin and bear the presence of Steve's other shitty friends if it means success in this area... and she's very conscious of her image.

Jonathan is a loner, in part because he genuinely seems to be stand offish and shy, but that could be a byproduct of the fact that he's genuinely not living the same life as most other kids his age. he seems the least concerned with fitting into normal culture, but the way that culture inflicts itself on him anyway is financially. a lack of financial security both pushes him outside the norm, and punishes him for being there. his dad isn't around, his mom doesn't make much money, and he works, and helps look after Will, even though he's still a school-aged kid. he seems torn between not caring about high school social politics, and feeling really bitter towards high schoolers who get to be normal. especially when they judge him with their own heads stuck in the sand.

and the thing about encountering the upside down is, you have to get weirder in response to it, if you're going to confront it effectively. normal culture won't acknowledge this. normal culture doesn't interact with this. you have to step outside of that bubble and put your ability to be perceived as normal on the line... you have to really commit. Joyce paints the alphabet on her walls, and hangs christmas lights, and sits by the phone because she swears she heard her son breathing the last time she picked it up. she looks crazy, and that's distressing to the people who care about her, but she can't care about what people with normal expectations will think. because normal culture will keep ignoring the monster until it's eating them alive, just because it's not supposed to be there. its existence doesn't fit their narrative, and if you opt to fight it in a way that works, you won't fit their narrative either.

so that's when we see who these three teenagers really are. when the bubble breaks, and they feel more at liberty to surpass their scripted societal narratives, and they grow. Steve reveals that his instincts are truly to stick around and help people. Nancy reveals that her instincts are to fight her demons head on. and Jonathan reveals that when he's in over his head, he does want help. and season one goes off without a hitch. but what state does this leave the characters in going forward?

the end of the first season was the beginning of a journey for these three. for Steve's part, he's been developing into someone who slowly starts to subvert masculine conventions. he finds true friendship based on the positive qualities he actually possesses when he gets close to the kids, particularly Dustin, and allows himself to slot really naturally into a nurturing mentorship role. he admits that he likes looking nice, and taking pride in his appearance. he admits that romantic companionship is a real emotional goal of his, independent of popularity or status. he discards the bigotry he used to express, and gains Robin as his best friend. he allows himself to become a force of sensible practicality among people who care for him. and this doesn't mean he won't toss himself into harm's way, trying to be the protector... but he's not afraid to look stupid while doing it (hence the "Steve will grab anything to use as a weapon" gag).

Nancy has quite a lot going on actually. from the very beginning, I think Nancy has wanted, in a broad sense, power. and not in any sort of sinister way... it makes sense for her. whether it means getting good grades and being undeniably smart at the top of her class, or aligning herself with the popular crowd and dating the hottest boy in their school, Nancy seems to be seeking some form of prestige... but back then, it seemed like she just wanted to distinguish herself in a way that validated her worth in the eyes of others. with the death of Barb, I think we see a shift in Nancy, from wanting power for her own sense of self identification and satisfaction, to wanting power sufficient to protect herself and her people from calamity. Nancy starts to subvert feminine expectations, like the notion that she should be sweet, demure, accommodating, vulnerable, and domestic... but the problem with subverting those particular expectations is that, in a healthy relationship, those aren't necessarily negative qualities. it's just that any role can feel like a prison if it's forced. for a her to subvert the notion of being sweet and agreeable, she may also cause herself to become alienated from those who don't understand her vision for herself. and that could mean everyone, if she gives up on making herself accessible or easily understood.

I think Jonathan is mostly struggling to extract himself from the looming shadow of other people's expectations. in the early seasons, this seems all but impossible... his progression is a lot more subtle because the things he does on behalf of his family are generally noble, and that's a genuine impulse of his. he needs to help his mom and brother. and honestly, I think Jonathan feels more like himself from the beginning, because he has at least one parent that he actually wants to emulate. Joyce is a really good mom, and she will sacrifice anything and everything for the sake of her kids. compare that to Steve's largely unmentioned parents... one can assume Steve's persona from the first season is the kind of normal kid they would want, but that's about all the information we get. or compare that to Nancy's parents, who are the prototypical normal culture family that Nancy herself says she doesn't want to be like when she grows up, because she knows they're willingly giving their lives over to mundane façades that make them unhappy. Joyce is frequently broke, overworked, overwhelmed, and struggling... but she's genuine, and committed to her kids at any bizarre new level of difficulty that arises. this is who Jonathan learns from, who he worries for, and who he wants to protect and help. but it's a lot to put on a kid, so once Will is older and more capable of taking care of himself, and once Joyce has a better job and more money coming in, it's no wonder he lets all the plates drop. he's been walking a razor's edge for too long, of course he's letting go when he finally feels like he can.

and finally, getting to the subject of the shipping... I don't think any of the pairs out of these three would be good together. or at least, none of the ones that the show's canonical love triangle has put any effort into developing. Nancy and Steve don't go together at all, and I could just say that what they represent to each other is the exact normative expectations that they're trying to develop out of. a snake would not try to put it's shed skin back on, and these two should not get back together again, simple as that. but also, both of them have changed... character development means they deserve each other now, right? but they've both developed by going down a path of subversion in relation to their initial roles. they're opposites from other sides of the fence now. Steve is very invested in the idea of a future full of cozy domesticity, love, and care... it suits him really well, and he should be able to have that. Nancy seems like she's looking towards a more active and independent future that resists the concept of settling down... if she goes into journalism, she's going to have a lot of work to do. Steve needs someone who can settle in with him. Nancy needs someone who can keep up with her.

and Jonathan needs a break. he and Nancy don't work either because he had to basically be in the mentality of a barely-scraping-by working adult throughout his formative years. I imagine his biggest ambition was putting food on the table at dinner every night, same as Joyce, and even that was probably a lot to handle. at this point, I'd say he's basically relapsing into a second teenager era... one where he actually gets to be immature, and irresponsible, and make dumb decisions, and not worry about heavy obligations all the time. he's not keeping pace with Nancy, or anyone else at this point. and honestly, he's earned it. but I think their relationship was doomed before he even hit this point. he and Nancy seemed like they bonded over both Will and Barb disappearing, but looking at their motives... Nancy was inspired by a guilt-driven need to go above and beyond, addressing something that she identifies as being her mistake. Jonathan is simply continuing a long standing pattern of wearily stepping up to the plate whenever it is required. unfortunately, Nancy sees acquiescing to others as the flaw that led to her mistake with Barb. she was complacent about how others were influencing her when she could've put her foot down. she could've said no to external pressures, and asserted herself. Jonathan is the type of person who would give up everything for the sake of others, but Nancy is done diminishing herself. he is passive, she is active, and that was bound to be a problem at some point.

so what then? all the romance in Stranger Things is rotten to the core, and nothing good will come of it? I mean, realistically, probably... based on what they seem willing to write into canon at this point. but the really funny thing about Stranger Things is that it could solve every bit of this by choosing the gay option for every single one of these characters.

I mean, getting this observation out of the way now: these kids come into their own by way of embracing "strangeness" and rejecting the vague notion of being normal, and then they end up bonding most closely with others who can know and relate to their abnormal experiences... like, idk, the gay thematic symbolism writes itself in that respect. it almost feels like cheating to mention it. basic shit. what's more interesting is looking at the gay ships that the fans typically land on for these three, and seeing how they solve problems that the straight ships leave on the table.

in particular, I think Eddie is the solution to what Steve is missing from Nancy, Argyle is the solution to what Jonathan is missing from Nancy, and Robin is the solution to what Nancy lacks from her relationships with Steve and Jonathan.

to reiterate, Steve's main struggle has been with the expectations of toxic jock masculinity. and while Steve made a name for himself as a popular kid by embodying a normative stereotype, Eddie made a name for himself as a freak and a weirdo by embodying a counterculture persona. they've both given off the essence of someone unapproachable in order to keep up a certain reputation in the past, but neither is as intimidating as they appear. and in reality, if Steve's biggest aspiration is to be someone protective, caring, and stable, nobody could need that more than the town pariah. the relationship would pivot Steve so far away from the "normal" status quo, continuing the trend of Steve finding himself more at peace the farther away from those standards he is, while at the same time letting him fill a niche that suits him in someone else's life. and it's almost cliché to point out by now, but if Steve wants to co-parent a gaggle of kids with someone... Eddie's been collecting them like easter eggs for the express purpose of validating everything that's weird and unique about them, and telling them to keep being exactly who they are, like, since before Steve even knew his name. both of them are committed to providing safety and security to the people they care about, and those who really need it. and they both need someone to return that kindness to them too.

Robin provides a similar social order shakeup to Nancy, being the nerdy marching band kid to her initial preppy popular girl appearance. Robin, however, has a fully fledged backstory about watching someone who fit the typical narrative getting everything that Robin herself wished she could've had. in a way, she parallels Barb... Barb, who was only invited to be anywhere near the popular kids because she knew Nancy. Barb, who was never really brought into the fold because they didn't value her intrinsic qualities or worth. Barb, who was snubbed. in a way, this is like having another chance. but Robin is also a 100% different personality type. she's energetic, and weird, and sometimes leaves Nancy running to catch up, which is exactly the sort of thing Nancy needs, because that means she's definitely not being underestimated. Nancy can fully believe that Robin thinks she's strong, and capable, and brilliant... and because Nancy doesn't have to worry about trying really hard to look strong because Robin already believes it... that also means that Nancy doesn't have to be afraid of looking weak either. a moment of weakness, faltering, or insecurity isn't going to discredit her. Robin will gladly list off her own weaknesses all day long, but it doesn't keep her from going forth and doing amazing things. it takes all of the pressure off, immediately. and this opens Nancy up to her full range of emotions again. she might even be able to have fun again, like she did back before any of this ever happened.

Argyle probably comes off as the most solidly platonic of these pairs, but I think that's because Jonathan doesn't really need a love interest in order to address his issues. that said, if Jonathan having a love interest was like, required? Argyle would be my first pick out of the existing cast. you can see that Argyle genuinely cares about Jonathan, in whatever way you choose to take that, because he genuinely helps Jonathan strategize with his real goals in mind. if Jonathan's real goal is to come away with as few obligations as possible, that's fine. but it still makes sense for him not to lie to Nancy, because that'll only result in worse stress later on. it's all in an effort to get Jonathan to the place he wants to be, mentally, emotionally, or situationally. and even if Argyle thinks Jonathan is making a bad choice, he can voice that without sounding like he's trying to pressure him. nothing about their friendship is ever at stake because of Jonathan's inaction, Argyle is fine with him staying the way he is, even if he's going through a really stagnant phase.

so like... Eddie has all this energy to put specifically towards all the things Steve says he wants, and he has needs that are compatible with what Steve naturally has to give. Robin echoes what Nancy lost without treading on sacred ground, and Nancy doesn't have to feel the need to over perform her competence in order to prove herself to Robin. Argyle is wise and has good advice, but he's also the exact right kind of chill that lets Jonathan believe he isn't failing him, or failing to meet an expectation, or failing to be enough.

and for all three, this would be a firm step away from normal culture. they've all been struggling to find a safe avenue to reject normal culture all this time, and they've finally found a way forward with someone who can help them in the ways they need most. the real problem is that all of this is happening too late in the game. Stranger Things already has this issue of only showing the canon couples interacting on screen during crisis times, and then skipping all that happens in between. we'll watch them go through like, one really traumatizing week, and then we won't see them again for months. and because all the big dramatic switch-ups (making up, breaking up, etc) have to happen while the audience is watching, it starts looking like these relationships either only thrive when a crisis is happening, or fall apart the moment a crisis occurs.

the problem with Stranger Things is that it feels like any relationship that they've set up on purpose, and would be willing to pull the trigger on canonizing, carries this problem. this is why platonic relationships like Steve and Robin feel hugely more solid and dedicated... there's no dramatic incentive to keep us guessing about how they feel for each other. the biggest irony about Steve and Eddie, Nancy and Robin, or Jonathan and Argyle, is that they have potential because the show hasn't tried to do what it typically does to romances with these pairs. the show isn't yanking them around, they're in its blind spot... and that actually gives the characters a chance to seem like they have genuine chemistry, and actually like each other. they get to be uncomplicated.

but all the existing relationship stuff is already crammed into the gaps between the plot all the time because of how the show is fundamentally structured, and the show didn't/doesn't know or want to be building a romance with these pieces anyway, so to leap into any of it in the last season would feel rushed and premature, and would give us no time for an emotional payoff. Nancy and Robin probably have the best shot out of any of them, but they already gave Robin a girl to crush on and be with, and I'm sure they have intentions with Nancy and Steve. my cynical brain says they're planning on finally suggesting that Steve and Nancy have reached a point where they're perfect for each other, only to kill off one of them (most likely Steve) for the drama. which would absolutely suck, not just because he's a fan favorite, but because it feels like the biggest complete butchering of his character's themes.

in general, I think it's a mistake to feel like killing characters is a necessity in order to legitimize a story's weight... when you do that, you get egregious shit like the death of Eddie, which functions horribly within the context of the story being told. I mean, he's the kids' counterculture mentor. he's the school freak who loudly puts that identity out there on purpose, just so he can gather in kids like Mike and Dustin, and give them a place to belong. he's someone for freaks and weirdos to turn to when they feel like nobody else could accept them. and Eddie died because there was just never gonna be a safe place in all the world for him. the narrative gave up on him, in a way that none of the characters were willing to. and if they found him relatable, looked up to him, or want to embody any part of him in his memory, then a target will end up on them too. maybe they'll survive because they started out living in a house instead of a trailer, or because they got better grades, or because they were... more normal. more palatable to normal culture. better suited to blending in. less trouble to the community that killed Eddie, because honestly, it really was Hawkins that did him in.

Eddie's death leaves me bitter because it feels like the show just executed the character that spoke to its thematic core the very most. and so unceremoniously too... it's such an obvious contrivance to back Eddie into the corner he died in, like, from a script writing perspective, this is pathetic. but he was just introduced that season, and based on the Stranger Things formula, we couldn't have expected better anyway. this is what happens when an obligation to fulfill certain arbitrary writing benchmarks supersedes telling a story with real thematic cohesion. you end up with a show that points to all the kids that don't fit in... Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and even Will and El with their respective troubles fitting in... and it says "there is no safe place for you to exist" before slamming the door and locking it. and sure, maybe they'll rise up against that message, but it's all going to ring pretty hollow now. season four's biggest addition to the character of the world building, is that it makes Hawkins into a community that might not even really deserve saving. it's a community of Angelas, and I'd rather see El go after every single one of them with a roller skate. this is going to make season five feel like an awful chore.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #jonathan byers #argyle

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iamanartichoke · 3 years ago

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Another totally unprompted ask, on the assumption that you are definitely no longer in need of them… another thing I’m trying to work out about Loki characterisation in preparation for perpetrating fic torture on him is how suicidal the poor sod is most of the time. This is another thing I’ve seen referred to a lot but only in passing. Though obviously this is a pretty triggery topic, so ignore if you want.

I am always in need of totally unprompted asks, otherwise I just assume no one wants to talk to me lmao

So, hoo boy. I have been mulling over this for, apparently, three days now bc there's just ... there's a lot to unpack here. Putting under a cut for obviously triggery content and also for length bc fml.

In my opinion, the response to "how suicidal is Loki most of the time" is "very, but whether or not he wants to do anything about it varies from moment to moment" (see what I did there? I'll see myself out). In other words, I have always had a headcanon that Loki is consistently, passively suicidal. This is a headcanon that comes straight from TDW, bc I'm certain that Loki never had any intention of surviving their mission. And that could be a whole other post, really, but the point is that even though this is a TDW-centric headcanon, I have come to adopt it as applying to Loki in general as well, not just in those specific circumstances.

When I say passively suicidal, I mean that Loki is just sort of ambivalent about the value of his own life. He feels like he doesn't deserve to be alive, and feels like there's little point in being alive. Which - I don't mean to sound all gloom and doom, like, poor uwu emo Loki (and I kinda hate that I have to pause to disclaim that, no, I don't just have a fixation on Loki being depressed for funsies/the aesthetic/whatever); I think that this mindset stems from really complicated places that I'm not sure I can articulate, but I will try.

I view Loki as someone who suffers from a severe inferiority complex, and I feel like it stems from being abandoned as an infant. Loki's life started with a traumatic event and, even if he doesn't remember the event itself, the feelings he experienced stayed in his subconscious. Feelings of loss, of fear, of despair and abandonment, of suffering - these are all feelings that burrowed into his bones and lived there for his entire life, feelings that colored how Loki viewed himself as a person as well as how he compared to the people around him.

Keep in mind that Loki didn't know he was abandoned until the events of Thor 1, obviously. We don't really know how old Loki is, in human years, but I have always assumed that he and Thor were at least adults (not teenagers), maybe the equivalent of early twenties - and the reason I bring that up is because it means Loki made it all the way to adulthood carrying the weight of a trauma that he did not remember or even knew had happened, so to him, there was no real reason for how wrong he felt. There was no explanation for the feelings of loss, of neglect, of fear. So on top of struggling with those feelings, Loki was also burdened with the alienation that comes with wondering why one can't just be like everyone else, why one can't just "snap out" of depression, why one's sense of self-worth has always been lacking.

So imagine what it's like to grow up as Loki. He was traumatized as an infant. The trauma has been with him his entire life, along with the confusion/alienation of not understanding why he feels the way that he does, and then on top of that, his basic personality lends itself toward introspection and isolation, so he likely felt even further removed from Thor and from his peers. Loki's too smart for his own good, and he's got an enormous capacity to feel and I feel like this is a combination that works against him as much as it does for him, bc it probably means he spent a lot of time examining himself and identifying all of his perceived flaws - and then berating himself for said flaws.

People with depression are probably pretty familiar with the bully that lives in your head, the one who is always there to remind you that you're stupid, or ugly, or that nobody likes you, or that you have nothing of value to contribute to anyone, etc. Loki's no different; he's got that bully in his head, too. Add onto this the fact that his brother is literally perfect, that he feels his father doesn't love him (or love him as much), that his interests in things like magic are looked down on in his culture, and that he's a prince (meaning that along with the privilege comes pressure, and being in the public eye, knowing that everyone around him is comparing him to Thor as much as he compares himself to Thor, well.) and you have a total clusterfuck of a mindset, and Loki's been existing inside of that clusterfuck for nearly all of his life.

I always go back to the quote where, when filming I think the vault scene, Kenneth Branagh directs Tom by saying, "This is the moment where the thin steel rod holding your brain together snaps." And it's such a significant moment for Loki bc this is where it all crumbles for him, learning the truth, but I also fixate on the "thin steel rod" part of the quote bc that's not how one would describe a healthy, stable person's mind. The implication, to me, has always been that Loki wasn't that stable to start with due to his general upbringing, his internal struggles, and his personality, so of course the devastation of learning he's adopted, and Jotun, would send him over the edge. One doesn't go from zero to 60; one doesn't fall over the edge unless they were balancing fairly close to it in the first place. And to me, the "thin steel rod" basically equals the aforementioned clusterfuck of a mindset.

THE POINT IS. (Holy shit, I ramble.) This is the foundation on which I'm basing my headcanon that Loki neither values his life nor feels as if he even deserves to live it - bc his default mindset is one of inferiority, of loss, of pain. And I think that going from being a general unstable person pre-canon to being passively suicidal post-canon is a thing that happened because, somewhere between the vault in Thor 1 and the dungeons in TDW, Loki just stopped caring.

Life is exhausting for everyone, but even moreso when your mental load becomes more than you can carry. Loki is exhausted. His experience is that things just keep getting worse and worse for him - he's never been valued, he's always been found wanting. He discovers that he was literally thrown away as an infant, unwanted and left to die, and things haven't gotten much better for him since then. Everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. His plans spin out of control. He's unable to prove his worth and his value and when he is, in fact, rejected, he literally tries to kill himself (only to survive and end up in an even worse situation).

It all just continually goes downhill, and Loki is fucking exhausted. He's done. He has no hope that anything is ever going to change - he will never be valued or even seen, he's unable to connect to anyone, he has no family (aside from Thor, but their relationship is so fraught with pain). As far as he's concerned, his life has been nothing but a waste since he was born and if no one else values it, why should he?

So - passively suicidal. He places no value on his life, and doesn't shy away from situations that could cost him his life. It's possible that the only reason he's not actively suicidal is bc his previous attempt not only failed but led to such a horrible situation that he's probably too afraid to intentionally seek out death again. He doesn't want to fail and end up worse off for it.

And - not that you asked this in particular, but - my biggest disappointment in the series is that none of what I've just written is addressed in a satisfying way (to me). That is, we don't get any real explicit acknowledgement of the trauma of Loki's abandonment as a baby or how that affected his mental health growing up; we don't get to explore how devastated he was to learn of his adoption; we don't ever see him reconcile his ingrained belief that jotuns are monstrous savages with the fact that he is jotun. He says "I betrayed everyone I loved, but I'm different now" and we're supposed to infer what he means without Loki actually articulating why he feels that he's the only one who should be held responsible for all these things that had happened or what "I've changed" even means to him (aside from not betraying Sylvie).

I would have liked to see these things addressed for a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons is that I would want to see how Loki comes to terms with all of his issues and his pain enough that he stops being passively suicidal. We never get to see that; after TDW, the time that passes allows for Loki to kinda chill, resulting in the Ragnarok version, but if there was any real healing or recovering going on, it was happening off-screen, with the audience expected to just go with "yeah Loki was going through it for awhile but he's kinda better now."

Furthermore, much of what I've written here is based on prime Loki's development through TDW, but doesn't account for series Loki's split from that timeline nor the theme of "Lokis survive" that's so prevalent in the series. So I don't think the "passively suicidal" headcanon is really appropriate for series Loki but, at the same time, I'd like to have seen why. I'd like to have seen Loki learning to value his life, or where the "we survive" mindset comes from, since that's not really been a thing before now. (Out of universe, I suspect it comes from the context of Loki just not dying whenever he tries to, but since TDW and IW haven't happened, and Loki didn't intend to survive his fall from the bifrost, framing Loki as an innate survivor doesn't really make sense, but to be fair, I'm just being picky.)

So, yeah. I'm not saying Loki doesn't experience growth or development in the series, I'm just saying that his arc left much unsaid and, furthermore, framing his growth as "wanting a throne to not wanting a throne" without addressing that Loki doesn't actually want the power of the throne, he wants the value and self-worth he associates with the throne, is - well, again, unsatisfying. Not bad, but it leaves viewers like me wanting bc we're cognizant of how much more could have been done.

I ... am going to end this now. This is probably nonsensical and all over the place, so I'm very sorry, and I'm sure this is why I don't get meta-starter asks lmfao bc no one's out here trying to read my dissertation submission for a Ph.D in Loki, but well, sometimes it just be like that.

Thank you for the ask and the opportunity to ramble.

#asks #charlotte replies #loki pokey artichokey #loki series #loki series criticism #loki meta #tw suicidal ideation #tw suicide attempt #tw suicide #tw mental health #tw depression #i spent two fucking hours on this yet i still feel like it's rambly nonsense #i hit stream-of-consciousness at some point and just went with it #and now i'm too lazy to revise #so i'm sorry #this'll probably only get like 10 notes anyway bc that's how it be on tumblr #put effort in and get little validation; put no effort in and everyone loses their minds

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interact-if · 4 years ago

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Day 3 of A/PI Heritage Month featured authors interview! Please perceive... Jess!

Jess, author of A Bard's Tale

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

It takes place on the fictional continent of Amaran, a high fantasy setting based on Asian and Pacific Islander cultures as opposed to traditional Eurocentric high fantasy.

In the wake of a terrible war, you are a young bard just starting your journey. Will you answer the call to adventure and embark to rouse the sleeping gods?

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

A Bard’s Tale is a story about a bard, and about a few more bards, and a world that is still living in the wake of war and occupation.

More specifically, it is the story of a bard (you!) and your quest to wake Amaran’s sleeping gods. The Bard has been experiencing recurring dreams prior to the start of the story, calling them to the capital city of Mahar’il – where they meet a colorful cast of companions and take the first steps of their journey.

A Bard’s Tale mixes old faithful D&D/RPG elements with dating sim-esque romance, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. The result is some good, clean fun. (Or dirty, depending on your choices.)

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

(Future scenes, can’t wait for readers to get to xyz place in the plot, etc.etc.)

I am most excited for readers to take their first steps onto the road. Mahar’il is meant to be a “home,” of sorts, and so these first chapters are adamant about familiarizing the reader with the city and the people they can expect to find here. But Amaran is so much bigger. I’m excited for people to see some of the other cities and regions that they’ve been only briefly introduced to so far, and also to get cracking on the complicated dynamics of Aspen and Tempest.

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

I’ve been working and playing in the larger world of Valia for a long time – through homebrewing D&D campaigns, and through the novel I am also working on, which takes place a continent away and a few hundred years in the past.

A Bard’s Tale sprung from the thought of “What will this world look like when this is all over?” “How will these people start to heal?” And, of course, “If I wrote a dating sim, who are Amaran’s most eligible bachelor(ette)s?”

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

I do! I am a biracial Korean-American, and both my parents were also born in America. It comes with a lot of diaspora blues, which I try not to project onto my characters that live in a fictional high fantasy world where racism and borders don’t have to exist. I admit that it tends to project pretty heavily anyway on the half-elves, Edin and Han.

The influence from my cultural background will become more evident the farther from Mahar’il that we get – particularly in the Jinju and Kujaku regions, which are inspired by Joseon-era Korea. (Loosely, in Kujaku’s case.)

Mahar’il is a cultural melting pot, and my inspiration for it is actually, largely, San Francisco. I’ve always admired the architecture of SF, and how the juxtaposition of antique and modern, ethnic (particularly Asian) and American, creates a sort of chaotic harmony.

However, I feel that it is important to note that the perspective from which I write is that of an Asian-American, and not just an Asian. My story is not rooted in Asian mythology, nor does its structure reflect Asian media and literature, because my foundation is largely Western.

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...

Writing has always been second nature to me. Translating that to game code has been a bit tricky but I manage. And if I get stuck, I’ve made plenty of friends in the IF community, both authors and readers, who are more than willing to lend a hand.

In terms of my readers, I feel so, so blessed by you guys. I started this for fun, truly, thinking no one would be willing to read such a niche story and certainly not clamor for more than a demo. The support I’ve gotten from the community has been astounding, and I’m truly grateful for it.

Q6: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

My biggest advice is do what makes you happy, and write from your heart. Inspiration will not always be there when you want it to be, and that’s okay. Set out a pot of coffee and a nice inviting blanket for when that fickle mistress decides to appear. Don’t shy away from projects that aren’t capturing your attention, but don’t devote more time to them than you want to. No one is judging your pile of half-finished drafts, except yourself.

Go where the wind takes you, even if it’s not “profitable” or even “good,” because every minute that you spend writing makes you a better writer. And on that note, write write write. I don’t think you need to set a daily timer, or whatever Stephen King said in his self-help book, but if you make a habit of it you will see progress. And read read read. You can’t pour from an empty cup, so read voraciously – and take a scalpel to your favorite books. Learn from them, dissect them, understand what makes them tick and then sprinkle a little of that in your own work.

And finally, fix your sleep schedule. I know you need to.

#if: events #Asian/Pacific Islander Month 2021 #Asian/Pacific Islander Heritage Month 2021 #a/pi month #a/pi month 2021 #aapiheritagemonth #aapi month #interactive fiction #authors of color

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bored-storyteller · 4 years ago

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All the parts you want. If you have anything specific in mind let me know!

Part 1:"Keep death away"

Part 2:"Beyond the Mask"

39- Tokyo Ghoul- Uta x Human! Reader pt. 3

"Just like you"

His tattooed hand presses against the wardrobe door that he has just closed, right in front of you.

Your breath tickles his knuckles as he hurries to hide the jar from your view, which you only caught a glimpse of it.

Trapped between him and the piece of furniture, your guilty gaze meets his.

"Oops ... sorry." You murmur, barely smiling at him.

Uta sighs slightly, shaking his head with his sweet and calm expression: "no ... I'm sorry, I forgot they were there."

You watch him bend over to open a drawer to look for the leather straps he asked you to retrieve, only to see him return to his workstation soon after.

Were those fingers in there?

The shop has been closed for a while now, and even if you would never say it out loud, this makes you happy. It's not exactly the best for you to always be ready to snap to hide in the bathroom, waiting for his customers to leave.

It hasn't happened many times, actually, but in one of them you heard Uta justify the presence of your smell as "his next meal". It made sense, yet you couldn't ignore a shiver running down your spine.

Despite any moral expectations, since you discovered that that boy is a ghoul you have found yourself much more company with him than before. It is something of yours, mutual. Now that a frightening world has knocked on your door, the one who showed it to you has become your safety and protection, and in the same way Uta comes into your protection with concern and at bottom with a slight sense of guilt it tickles his soul, relieved simply by the relief of not having to hide from you anymore.

Even if you are now aware of who you have in front of you, however the dynamics between you two are still fragile, and above all the dynamics between you and your inner fears are fragile.

The day after the tragic and at the same time sweet evening that opened you to a completely new reality for you, he immediately took care to give you the necessary recommendations: if someone asks you for something, any person, you absolutely must instantly forget that he is a ghoul.

At first you actually felt offended. Did he really think you were that stupid to tell someone about this? Did he think you would ever endanger him?

But soon after, you realized that it was not for his safety that he worried so much. He was afraid for you.

"This is really dangerous" he had told you "If anything happens to me, nobody has to know that you know, okay?"

If anything happens to me.

You couldn't say anything clever at the time, so you just nodded, but something bittersweet had started to tingle in your heart.

He is dangerous, and at the same time in danger. You are in danger of being there with him, you are in many ways. Some would say that you are committing a crime, that you are wrong, that you deserve punishment just because you enjoy his company. Yet you can't feel guilty.

You have so many questions to ask him, but in those days since the revelation you have not asked him even one.

It is so difficult for you to understand what you are feeling. He kills, he eats people, this is now known. He is one of those monsters that the news is talking about so much, one of those monsters that should be exterminated.

Yet you are now there, observing the empty, weeping eyes of a mask behind a display case. He must have done it recently, it's the first time you've seen it.

But still, you are there, in a hidden shop where you risk finding a box of human eyes by opening a drawer, and the thing that scared you the most until the other day is that you can't get the reaction you would expect from you.

You keep looking at the masks and him as you did until last week even though you know.

You didn't tell him, but it all kept you up at night. You've always thought about it, every moment was spent to find a way out of that tangle of thoughts and emotions that went through you both in his presence and in his absence.

It was hard to make peace with yourself, it was almost scary, but in the end you accepted it. You had no choice but to accept it.

He eats people like you, but if he didn't he couldn't exist ...

"I like this mask ..." so sad, so scared, a soul of a poor devil in hell.

"Really? I recently did it. But you know, to tell the truth it gives me a strange feeling. "

Even if he doesn't look at you he is attentive to you. Even if he sits on his stool where you are, he listens to you, he perceives you, much more than you perceive him.

Now you know… someone in that cruel world has to die, and you don't want that someone to be Uta, despite the price.

Yeah, the price, that price you didn't pay.

Now there is one more thing you have to solve with yourself, something else to admit, so fragile and so strong together.

You approach him to see what he is working on - or rather to see him.

When you look at him, every time, you immediately remember that he is a ghoul, but at the same time it is as if you forget him.

You've been spending a lot of time together now, yet each time you want more, and you don't really care how wrong it is.

“Listen…” his peaceful voice quickly distracts you from your thoughts “… you've been pretty quiet lately. Do you feel ok?"

His hands do not stop for a moment to work, to create. He certainly has deadlines to meet and yet what he is doing is not simple work, it is art. You feel privileged to be able to observe it at work.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I've been thinking too much lately."

You just laugh, a little embarrassed and a little really strangely and genuinely amused by that turn that everything is taking, as long as you are with Uta you feel free to smile again, despite everything.

You move closer to get a better look at his fingers intertwining with ribbons and straps. Who knows how he does it.

"Is it really such a big problem that I'm a ghoul?"

His words rain down on you like a cold shower interrupting all consideration, yet on his part they were necessary.

Uta also finds himself strangely surprised. His skilled hands interrupt the art, in the surprise of that new doubt that until now he had ignored.

No, in fact, he hadn't really ignored it. It had simply always presented itself in a thousand other terms that had never been posed as such a placid question.

He had experienced that stigma, that exclusion from the beauty of the world in a thousand sick ways, but never as he is experiencing it now with you.

And again that world that runs too fast for him returns, that world that "loves only humans", yet in his selfishness he prays on the sidelines that you will be able to give up that love that that magnificent world grants you, to stay there immobile, with a Pierrot like him.

For a moment Uta doesn't know what to do, whether to resume his job to avoid your gaze and protect himself, or to risk looking at you, discovering your emotions.

Yet before he can decide, he feels your movement.

You don't even know what you're really doing, you just know that for some reason at that moment you need to feel him as much as possible, to understand, to fix yourself.

Kneeling on the cold floor, in the intimate solitude of the closed shop, you let your arms surround his waist without fear. Your head in his lap, nestled against him as much as possible.

He doesn't react, he just looks at you, blank in the face.

Suddenly he feels angry restlessness rising in him. What are you doing? He can't read it, what does it mean?

For some reason he can't really feel your hug, it's as if he doesn't contemplate it among the possibilities. You're hugging someone else there. Snuggled against his stomach, you are approaching human victims like you, not him. There is no bridge between you two, it is impossible to believe.

There is no way that you, little fragile human, can really accept something so big, he cannot ask it to you, he thinks ... and yet ...

"I like it ..." your words are light, shy, and even fearful. Afraid of the scope of what you are saying, of that bestial confession you are revealing "that you are a ghoul ... I like it ..."

And that's the hard truth. It's just something of him, it's him, it's something attractive.

It is attractive to know that those gentle lips could bite you and trap your flesh, that those light hands could tear you apart. That safe sense of danger he gives you is tempting, and the trust you place in him just makes you enjoy that awareness.

This is hard even for you to admit, but you cannot ignore it, nor leave him unaware.

And once again your words overturn his stage, destroy it and rebuild it according to a new conformity.

He is surprised, you can feel it from his breath that stops for a moment, jumps against your cheek.

One thing he loves about you is that he can't help but believe you. No matter how much those words may be at odds with everything life has taught him, if you say it then it's true for him.

His delicate fingers intertwine with your hair, light, almost shy. His hand caresses you patiently, aware, almost as if he is caressing a child, while he holds you there in a sweet constriction.

"Really?"

His calm question about him is not a request for confirmation, as much as wanting to hear you say the things he never has the words to say.

You rise from your seat, getting back on your feet, but unexpectedly you are prevented from walking away from him.

Now it's his arms that surround your waist, and you find yourself there, trapped between his knees and his arms, without being squeezed. His eyes look at you attentively, his bizarre face shows nothing but his calm composure - which does not at all reflect the vibrations of his heart -.

“I think… it's part of you, you wouldn't be the same otherwise. I like it."

You don't know with what courage you spoke those words, so sure and sincere.

You are not embarrassed, perhaps because you both love that little world that belongs only to you, where no one can see and hear you, that behind the scenes of the circus of life.

And it is your way of seeing reality that he likes, what he needs. That your putting Uta before the ghoul, that small and natural confirms that you always give him. This is what still gives many hope, the existence of someone like you, who knows how to see things in the order in which they should be seen. It is the principle for which love exists between humans and ghouls.

The light and affectionate smile that is painted on his lips is the confirmation that is needed, nothing else.

"I could eat you ..."

"I know" but you won't.

You should be food for him, you are. You are a possible meal, but you are also a person. You are someone. You talk, laugh, joke, cry, get angry ... and over time he has learned to want to keep it all, because he likes the way you are. Though you may be his source of life, just imagining feeding on you becomes painful for him. The thought of devouring you, of consuming you, of making you disappear from the world, of swallowing your body, your laughter and your tears, your voice calling his name… has become extremely painful.

And he's also sure you don't really know what you're saying, he's sure you want to change a lot of things about him if you only knew them, but for now it's okay that you only know that drama.

Indeed, no, it is not a scene. Uta is Uta, whole and sincere. What you know is the real and authentic facade of Uta that you deserve to know, there is nothing wrong with that, and he is sure you know it.

Everyone is modeled on relationships, you do too, but it's not that you are less true with him than with others.

The same goes for him, and despite this he is also aware that the affection that binds him to you will not change when he is talking to Renji, and not even when he is at the center of an auction. Uta is always Uta, and you are always you, no matter where you are or who you are with.

Two extremely complex creatures, monster and prey that still share something so profound and at the same time solid and concrete.

His lips curl slightly more, in a vague expression of veiled sweetness.

"Good."

His hand slips on the table as he stands up, but you don't notice it, too focused on seeing that the other hand hasn't given up on the touch on your hips.

Only when something lands on your face do you wake up. You do not understand it immediately, but the mask, still white and anonymous, is now on you, supported by him.

Before you can say anything or ask for an explanation, Uta is close to you, so close that you know you can feel the hard cover vibrating slightly on your cheeks under his breath.

It is still too early, everything is too delicate to utter certain words between you two, to give voice to deep and primitive feelings, which have nothing forbidden even though society would like you to believe.

It is not for fear that you will not admit what you both know, it is just for the pleasure of enjoying that moment, that moment before, that sweet harboring the affectionate secret.

This is why it is the stiff and cold lips of the mask that are kissed, a slight barrier that separates the delicacy of that touch from you.

A kiss that doesn't whet anyone's appetite, is just a silent admission of something extremely big.

And as the mask came, it goes away, returning to its place, leaving you uncovered and incredulous.

Uta also moves away, returning to turn his attention to the stock cabinet, abandoning you still and dazed in front of that almost dreamlike situation.

"Uta?"

"Yes?"

His answer is always ready as he rummages through the rolls of tissue.

"What was that?"

His quiet face of him turns to you, and you know him well enough to notice that slight amused glint in his eyes.

"What was what?"

“That! You know!"

A slight amused snort from him lets you know you'll never get your answers: "You must have daydreamed."

-End-

#tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul #uta x human reader #uta x reader #uta tg #tokyo ghoul headcanons #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul oneshot #request #tokyo ghoul uta

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

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A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 3)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: M (this one gets spicy folks)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (they work in a bar), pining, death/grief mention, masturbation, fantasies of p in v sex, Paz puts himself in horny jail, light smut

Word count: 3.1k

Description: This one is purely self-indulgent. You decide to up the ante and make Paz’s life (and other parts of him) hard. Harlow is a lil shit, but we love for for it.

Author’s note: I’m still not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I’ve been working on it for far too long. Lightly edited, unbeta’d. Please go here to be added to the taglist! This one goes out to my pal May. Missing you on my dash. Hope you see this update and enjoy it 🥰

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was maddening.

It had been a long time since anyone had stirred these kinds of feelings up for him, and he doesn’t recall it ever hitting him like a freight train.

He used to think of life in two absolutes: Before he lost everything and After, when he had to pick up the pieces. Now he was starting to think there was more to it, that those absolutes were just parts of him.

If only he wasn’t such a miserable bastard. You were the light in a dark sky. Not just for him, for everyone. He saw the delighted smile that was plastered on Rick’s face after you walked in every day and asked him how his grandchildren were doing, if his wife’s knee was feeling any better.

Paz noticed the change in Harlow’s demeanor now that she had a friend who could build her up when she talked about her dreams. Hell, Madge snuck you food every chance she got, and she only ever did that for him.

He found himself lying awake in bed tonight, as usual, trying to calm the stream of thought that entered his head. Before you, he only could ever think about the ghosts of his past. People he had loved and lost.

But now? Now as he closed his eyes, he saw your eyes, sparkling with delight. Your lips, in a pout, then stretched over a brilliant smile.

The delicate curve of your neck and shoulder. Your ass. He groaned out loud. God, your ass was out of this world. The way it moved when you bent over to grab a dish towel from the bottom shelf. He always had to look away before his thoughts got away from him, or else his mind would wander and he would imagine snaking his arms over yours and caging you to the bar, rolling his hips into yours. You would wiggle your ass against him and throw your head back to see his reaction.

Fuck. Now he was hard. Every time this happened, he would either watch some porn or force himself to think of a woman he didn’t know, someone who he dreamed up in his head.

But no faceless stranger or actress could quite do it for him like you would. He could feel his self control crumbling as he reached into his boxer briefs and fisted his aching cock, taking it out and letting it sit heavy against his stomach, straining with need.

He ran a finger up the underside, imagining it was you teasing him, getting acquainted with how hot and hard he was for you. He let himself picture you, naked and in between his legs, stroking him gently, watching him come apart underneath you. Ideally, he’d flip you over and dive face first into your cunt, lapping wide stripes at your slick folds with his tongue, then sucking your clit into his mouth. He would wait until you’re mewling under him, then he’d plunge a finger into you, stretching you around his finger and adding another. He’d wait until you came in his mouth at least twice before he fucked you. He’d have you begging for his cock, so slick with need it dripped down your thighs.

In this part of the fantasy, you’re so feral for him, your eyes bright and wide looking up at him with hunger, that he acquiesces, and you climb onto his lap and bounce up and down on his cock.

He was stroking himself faster now, feeling so close to the edge. He grit his teeth, growling your name as he came all over his fist, spurts reaching up his stomach, almost all the way to his chest.

As soon as he came to his senses, he sighed, feeling disgusted with himself.

There was a moment in the bed of his truck that night, where you had stared at him, your gaze flickering down to his mouth as you licked your bottom lip. It was just a small flash of your tongue– but it gave him hope for a moment. He had hope that someone as beautiful and kind as you could see through the darkness within him, see the guy he used to be before he lost everything.

But that part of Paz died, along with the family he cared so deeply for. The remaining ones scattered to the wind, unable to carry on pretending like everything hadn’t changed.

He sighed deeply, getting up to wash the shame off himself. At least he’d sleep soundly tonight and dream of a reality where he could hold you in his arms.

Paz seemed to be in higher spirits lately, following your chat in his office. It wasn’t like he skipped into the room and had birds fluttering around his head, like a Disney princess, but he didn’t snap at anyone who made eye contact with him, so it was a noticeable difference.

That was the hot topic conversation of the day, especially for Harlow. She couldn’t get over the 360 change that seemingly happened overnight.

“So, did you doink the grumpy out of him or what?” Harlow asked. She was leaning over the bar, looking at you expectantly with her hands under her chin.

“Of course not!” You said, a little too loudly. “There has not, and will not be any doinking, ever.”

“This sounds like work appropriate conversation,” a deep voice drawled.

You both spun around, not expecting to see him standing in the doorway, his eyebrow arched. He was clearly unimpressed.

“I’m going to go clean the bathrooms,” Harlow said, dashing out back. Fucking traitor.

You prayed to the almighty maker that the floor would open up and swallow you whole, but there was no such luck in store for you today.

“Hey Paz,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if Harlow hadn’t been talking about your non-existent sex life.

“Hey you,” he said, mimicking your tone. “I actually came out here to ask you if you could swap a shift with Harlow next Friday. I fucked up and scheduled her on a day she requested off. You’d get Sunday off in return.”

“Sure,” you agreed, nodding. “I don’t have any plans.”

“You don’t have any plans to ‘doink’ anyone that night?” He teased.

You could feel your face heating up in embarrassment.

“Not unless you know any willing volunteers.”

Paz barked out a laugh.

“I might know a guy,” he said, a smirk etched on his handsome face.

You both cursed and thanked the powers above that a customer decided to walk in right at that moment. Of course it was Bob. He usually was the first to come in and one of the last to leave.

Not wanting to lose whatever contest was going on (real or perceived), you gave Paz a coy smile and leaned over the bar to take Bob’s order, making sure you poked your ass out further than necessary.

You couldn’t see Paz’s reaction, but when he exited without so much of a goodbye, you gave yourself an internal fist pump.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to (potentially) break a dress code at work, but in your defense it was hotter than the surface of the sun, and internal temperature of the bar only seemed to get higher as the night went on.

Also, maybe it would be an added bonus if you got to torture a giant, brooding bartender in the process.

You felt pretty proud of your decision to wear your thinnest bralette, squeeze into your smallest pair of shorts, paired with a t-shirt that was just a little too small.

Of course your car decided to stall 3 times on the way to work, and your AC was busted so you walked in 15 minutes late, already feeling like a frizzy, sweaty mess. Your entrance wasn’t as grand as you were hoping, feeling like your half-assed attempt at makeup had already melted off your face, and the black v-neck you wore was clinging to you in all the wrong places, mainly your sweaty back and right under your bra.

In your rush to clock in before the 20-minute mark, you crashed right into Paz, almost falling and landing on your ass. Paz, of course, barely moved a centimeter. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the shoulder to hold you steady.

“Woah there, small fry, be careful,” he murmured. His hand was large and warm. You had to take a deep breath to get a hold of yourself.

“Paz, I’m so sorry I’m late. My fucking car stalled out on the way and–” you started babbling, pushing your sweaty mane back, praying he couldn’t see the sweat stains on your shirt.

“It’s okay, shit happens. You need someone to look at your car? I know a guy.” He was leaning forwards to get a better look at you, looking concerned. You had trouble controlling how fast your heart was beating and your lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. It was plain bizarre, the affect this man had on you with a simple gesture.

I know a guy. Your cheeks felt warm remembering the last time he uttered that sentence.

You had expected him to get angry with you for being late. Hell, you remember the gruff tone he gave you on your first day when he said to show up on time.

“I- I um,” you were having a hard time coming up with words, too distracted by the sensation of Paz’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, brushing against your collar bone. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh and your nipples instantly pebbled. You stole a quick glance down to make sure it wasn’t obvious. Shit, it totally was.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he replied. Had his voice dropped a few octaves or were you just imagining it? He removed his hand from your shoulder, much to your chagrin, and backed up a little, giving you a once-over.

“Go ahead and clock in and give yourself a couple minutes to get settled. It should be slow today,” he gave you a soft smile.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, giving him a shy smile in return.

It was about 3 hours into your 8 hour shift and it was dead. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. It wasn’t that surprising, given it was a Tuesday, but God were you bored. It was just you and Paz tonight, with Paz sending Madge home (with pay) and no one else being scheduled.

You didn’t really mind, though, figuring it was a good time to get to know Paz better. He was wiping the already clean bar down for the fifth time that night, really driving the bartender stereotype home.

“You’re going to start wearing the varnish down at this rate,” you laughed, gesturing at the rag in his hand.

He looked down, shaking his head in a playfully exasperated way and let out an embarrassed huff of laughter.

“Alright, how do you suggest we pass the time?”

“How about 20 questions?”

Paz immediately groaned in protest.

“Oh shut up, you big baby, I’ll answer first. Go ahead,” you cocked your chin at him. “Got any questions you’re dying to ask me?”

“Why did you apply for a job here?”

Your first instinct was to deflect, but you did suggest this game, and figured you just had to bite the bullet and answer honestly.

“To be honest, I still haven’t figured out what I want to do,” you explained. “I know, kind of pathetic for someone my age. I took a bartending class at the local adult learning center, got a certificate and just kind of walked in here and asked for an application on a whim.”

Paz could sense your discomfort, how you were ashamed that you hadn’t found your way yet. It was something he could identify with, in a way.

“That’s not pathetic at all,” he said, crossing his arms. “Plenty of people don’t know what they want to do at your age.”

You shrugged, not wanting to continue the subject.

“Boxers or briefs?”

Paz arched an eyebrow, his ever-present sign of judgement coming through.

“That’s what you’re dying to ask me?”

“No, but I figured I’d warm you up first,” you said, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Boxer briefs. Favorite color?”

“Blue. Where did you grow up?”

Paz’s casual expression faltered at the question.

“Far away. I’d rather not get into it today, if you don’t mind.” The easy smile vanished from your face, replacing it with a nod of understanding.

“That’s totally fine, Paz. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you sat down at a table, and gestured at the chair across from you, signaling him to sit down. You wanted him to feel at ease around you.

“You and your apologies,” Paz said, a look of fond disbelief on his face. “You have nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.”

A beat of silence passed, waiting for Paz to think of a question. You wanted to ask him what that word he had called you meant, but you had a feeling he would dodge the question.

“Who were you and Harlow talking about yesterday?” Paz rested his chin in his hand, giving you a shit-eating grin. He must have known the answer already, given the smug look on his face.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” You countered. In the back of your mind, you thought you probably shouldn’t have talked back to your boss, but his smile didn’t waver. In fact, it only got wider.

“That doesn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he drawled, stretching his legs and crossing one over the other.

“Harlow,” you thought of a way to word this without incriminating yourself or your friend. But screw it, she had opened her big mouth in the first place. “Harlow thinks there’s something going on between you and me.”

You briefly wondered if his facial muscles were used to this kind of workout, with the grin that refused to let up.

“And your answer was basically, ‘ew no’, ouch,” he chuckled.

“It’s not like– ugh. Fuck you.” You hid your face in your hands. He laughed harder. You had to do something to flip this around, gain back a little power over the situation.

Oh. An evil thought entered your brain. You removed your hands from your face and smirked. Paz was still grinning, but you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Pray tell, what would you have preferred I said?”

Paz leaned back in his chair and regarded you for a moment. It seemed you had thrown him through a loop. You couldn’t help but feel pleased with yourself.

But then he leaned forward, placing both of his large hands on the table, a hungry look in his eyes.

“You can say whatever you want to Harlow,” he said, his voice even but significantly huskier than usual. “But I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to yourself.”

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest any second now. You weren’t sure if he was being serious and it was making your head spin.

A sound came from the kitchen, snapping you both out of the moment. You sprung apart, despite having a table between your bodies.

“Okay lovebirds, I’m heading home.” It was Madge, standing by the kitchen doors, snickering at your antics.

“Night, Madge,” Paz called.

You waved feebly and offered a weak “goodnight” at her retreating figure.

It had been too quiet since she had left. Paz seemed unwilling to continue the conversation, opting to brood silently. You muttered something about getting a head start on inventory and retreated into the dusty storage closet to pretend you were counting inventory. Though, you didn’t bring a pen and paper with you, so really you just went out back to stare at a bunch of kegs and liquor bottles, hoping they would miraculously answer all of the questions that were whirring through your brain.

You must have been staring at a bottle of Hennessy for at least a full 5 minutes when the door opened. Paz looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed up, as if he had been running his fingers through it. His chest was heaving as if he had just sprinted a mile.

“Paz.” His name came out of your mouth like a prayer. You weren’t sure what you were asking of him, but you knew you needed him to act.

He stepped closer, slowly, as if he was afraid the floor would open up from under his feet.

“Tell me to stop.” Paz was just inches away now, caging you into the shelves behind you with his arms.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You asked, tipping your chin up to look at him.

He growled and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you with fervor.

Despite the ferocity of his kiss, his lips were so soft, so pliant. You moaned and licked into his mouth needing to taste him. Paz moaned, pushing you into the shelves further.

“You drive me crazy,” he panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You responded by capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back to your mouth. You were rewarded with a low groan and a push of his hips.

He was hard. That knowledge sent you into a haze. You needed him closer. Your arms went around his shoulders, kneading and pulling him in. He broke the kiss and peppered smaller kisses on your jaw, then down your neck.

“You wear these tiny little shorts and tight shirt to torture me?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He nibbled at your collar bone, hitting a spot that had you throwing your head back against the shelves.

“Yes,” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Mmm, knew it,” he answered, running his hands down your back, down to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze that had you mewling.

“I’ve been hard all fucking day, seeing you waltz around in those shorts, with your nipples hard, begging to be sucked.”

He rubbed his thumb over one of your nipples, causing it to pebble. Paz swallowed your gasp with his mouth, giving you another searing kiss.

Reality came rearing its ugly head in the form of the front door opening. Paz huffed and pressed his forehead to yours, hands coming around your hips to help you off the shelf.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, reaching his hand down into his jeans to adjust himself. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Paz exited the closet, strolling out and greeting the customer as if nothing had just happened, while you stole a few moments to yourself to get your bearings.

It was going to be a long night.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @sheresh0y @starlite41

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla au #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you

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remmushound · 4 years ago

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Part 6 of my bay/rise crossover! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon

“Donnie.”

Donnie yelped and almost dropped the shell armor he was carrying. It bounced in his hands a few times before he was able to get a grip on it again and he turned to face Leo with a huff.

“Leo. Ah— what are you doing up so early? I thought you didn't wake up until six.”

“It’s six thirty Don.”

Donnie blinked. “Oh. Must’ve lost track of the time.” Donnie rubbed the back of his head anxiously.

Leo gave a smirk and leaned his weight against the wall. “Any word from our guests?”

“Uh— yeah, the um. The softshell mutant is awake.” Donnie motioned to the room Donatello was in.

“Great.” Leo gave a nod before shoving his way past Donnie and starting toward the door. Donnie yelped and grabbed his shorter brother by the arm to yank him away.

“Wait! He’s— he’s still a little high on the um… injection so you might wanna give him a while.”

“He’s conscious, and he can talk, so why wait?” Leo went to open the door again, but Donnie’s grip was like a vice.

“It— it might be better to give him some time to—“

“Get off me.” Leo finally yanked his arm free and pushed himself through the door before Donnie could stop him again.

Donatello didn't flinch as the door was slammed open. Leo’s scowl quickly faded away at the lack of intimidation on the other mutants' face— in fact, he looked almost bored with the situation.

“You really should knock. I could’ve been doing anything in here.” Donatello said calmly, eyes staring blankly toward Leo.

Leo struggled for words a moment before his confidence returned to him and he said quite loudly, “Who are you? How’d you get here?”

“Leo, I already asked him that—“ Donnie tried to explain.

Donatello’s mix-matched eyes lit up at the mention of his brother's name, but quickly cooled back to a relaxed state. “So you’re a Leo? I mean, you’re already more arrogant than my Leo, I’ll give you that.”

“Excuse me?” Leo snarled, confusion starting to cloud his judgement once more.

“Leooo.” Donnie whined, getting between his counterpart and his brother to try and push Leo away. “I told you— I already asked him those things!”

“Then he should have no issue repeating them.”

“Oh would you look at that, I don’t care.”

“Leooo!” Donnie yanked Leo back out of the room and closed the door.

“What, Donnie, what?!” Leo finally snapped in his brother's face, giving the taller box turtle a harsh shove, “Come on! Don’t pull your punches! Spit it out!”

Donnie shrank into his shell, his eyes avoiding the angry leader’s and his mind crashing in on itself like a sort of self-preservation technique. Silence was a valid option. It took only a few seconds for Leo’s rage to turn to a calmer frustration as he put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder.

“S-sorry Don.” He immediately apologized, “I’m just a little on edge right now.”

Donnie gave a shy smile as he peeked back out from his shell, fear of Leo almost immediately forgotten. “That’s okay Leo, but I promise I’m handling it, and I didn't mean to keep anything from you. I was just trying to get him to trust me, and you’re not always so good at… well, not being intimidating.”

“Yeah.” Leo laughed weakly and rubbed his head, “I guess that’s your strong suit, huh? I didn't mean to yell at you.”

“We’re all under a lot of stress right now— a little shouting’s to be expected.”

“But he has been talking to you?” Leo prompted.

“Yes— he and I are uh… getting along quite well. Mostly because he’s uh… me?”

Leo wasn’t so surprised at the declaration, given the intense thoughts that had raced through his head in the twelve hour wait, but it still made him feel almost numb hearing such words from his most trusted source.

“Are you sure?” Leo asked Donnie in a hushed voice, “Really sure?”

“I— I asked him a bunch of questions and they all seem to make sense. He said he and his brothers and his Master Splinter and their April were running from their Shredder when a portal opened up and it brought them here.”

“Are we sure this isn’t a trick? Some— some other mutant turned by Krang to try and trick us somehow?”

“I… can’t say for sure…” Donnie said softly.

“Don.” Leo warned, his eyes wide as he kept glancing back to the room and its perceived threat.

“But hear me out!” Donnie begged, “I’m telling you, this guy seems legit! He— he knew the numbers of the Fibonacci sequence—“

“Donnie.”

“— he—he seems really eloquent and— and he knew all our names!”

“Don.” Leo’s voice was surprisingly soft for carrying such an attention-demanding tone. “I think you might be getting a little close to this.”

“Leo— if— if this is legit, and I really think it is, then this is a breakthrough I could’ve never imagined happening in our lifetimes! That means there’s other worlds out there— other timelines— other us’s!”

“We already knew all about that from Krang.”

“No, Leo! All we knew was that there was one other planet with what appeared to be organic life— this is something totally new! It— it could prove Hugh Everett’s theory of the multiverse!”

Donnie scrambled away from Leo to pull down a whiteboard from a section of his lab. Leo simply watched and listened to his brother’s ranting, his mind absorbing the words like a sponge and sifting through them quickly. Donnie grabbed a marker from his belt and immediately started scribbling as he spoke.

“Everett proposed the theory in 1957 that there are an infinite number of worlds with infinite possibilities existing in an infinite space— all encased in our own little bubbles!” Donnie scribbled a bunch of circles and marked them one through six. “And that we're all floating together in the same space like— like when you blow bubbles! We’re just drifting, unaware of all the other bubbles around us! But sometimes…” Donnie drew two of the bubbles overlapping each other, “We collide— and for a few seconds or minutes or years, our realities seep together until we’re separated again! That’s one of the theories for why we experience deja vu— the feeling that you’ve already experienced something—“

“I know what it is, Donnie.” Leo couldn’t help but laugh at Donnie’s excitement. “And I understand why it's got you so excited, but…”

“But?” Donnie almost deflated, expecting a rebuke.

“If it is true, then… where’s the rest of them?”

Donnie blinked.

“The other four?” Leo prompted with a breathless laugh, “This other Leo and Mikey and Splinter and April he mentioned?”

Donnie was blank another moment before his eyes sparked and realization hit him harder than one of Mikey’s nunchucks.

“Oh my Goooood I didn't even think about that! They— they could be anywhere!”

Donnie withdrew his whiteboard back up in its stationary position without erasing anything as he scrambled for one of his many computers.

“There’s no reason to think they all landed here in the city— they could’ve landed anywhere— they might—“

“Donnie.” Leo said softly, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezing to bring him back to reality. Donnie gave a startled noise as if he had forgotten Leo was there for a moment. “It’s okay. Take a breath.”

Donnie’s hands hovered just above his keyboard as his breaths came out shaky at first but slowly steadied themselves as he worked through the knot in his chest.

“There. Easy.” Leo started breathing alongside Donnie to encourage him along. “Now relax. Even if they aren’t in the city, you can find them anywhere on the planet! I know you can!” He gave Donnie a playful shove, “So just take a minute more to calm down before you put your genius to work, huh?”

“Yeah…” Donnie panted and then laughed weakly, “Yeah— okay… yeah…”

#wholesome Leo #Donnie is a whole mood #he my fav to write #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #donatello #donnie #leonardo #leo #bayverse turtles

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woozisnoots · 4 years ago

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i’m not a hero | hansol vernon chwe

° pairing: vernon x reader ° genre: floofity floof fluff ° summary: people ask you, the avid star wars enthusiast, who your favorite character is and to their surprise? it’s not the hero. ° word count: 1276 ° warning: i mention weapon maybe 2 times ° a/n: my installment for @merakiiverse collab - thank you so much for this really fun opportunity!!! check out the masterlist + all the amazing authors below 💓 (and yes this is part of krys and i’s disneyland au as well!)

meraki’s job collab! / seventeen stars to the right!

masterlist!

everyone will tell you how hard it is trying to pay for college, being away from home, living alone, occasionally having to cope with potential loneliness and lack of motivation from time to time

but some college experiences outweigh all those hardships

and for vernon, it’s two things: you and living out his dream job. well, close to his dream job

you and vernon actually went to the same high school and even shared classes together. exchanged a couple of laughs during graduation practice at how both your names were mispronounced at the podium

yet for the entire three / four years that you were there, no words ushered between you two aside from formal greetings and acknowledged nods. after those graduation caps went up in the sky and you disappeared into the crowd, vernon regretted not talking to you at least once.

just when he was about to lose hope and move passed it, the next thing he knew, he saw you again waiting outside his communications class at his university

‘so this must be fate, it has to be… or a sign? whatever the difference is’

vernon’s face completely flushed when you expressed how relieved you were to see him, alas a familiar face in this new foreign place. making small talk before class started. finding out you guys actually shared the same major, hinting that he’ll probably get to see and spend more time with you more often, in and outside of school

what a perfect perfect way to start a friendship!

after exchanging each other numbers, study sessions became regular hangouts and soon after a few months, the awkward air around him diminished and he finally let his nonchalant person shine through

…but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t shy.

“awe so yn still doesn’t know about your obsession with star wars? can’t be their little jedi to save the them from having to write an argumentative speech in five minutes?”

vernon only responded by sending a glare directed towards his roommate and shoved his head into his pillow, yelping out his internal screams

and for his information, he wasn’t necessarily the hero of the story

how was he supposed to tell you that he worked as a storm trooper at disneyland?

first and far most important, he can’t. that’s against the rules, he would get fired in a heartbeat. that would ruin the entire galaxy edge experience. where’s the magic in that?

and second, even if he were to tell you, he just broke through the wall and is finally on good terms with you. yes, you guys may be friends right now but he does eventually want to ask you out

in his head, being a star wars fan doesn’t really give him that cool reputation that he wants you to perceive of him

and what if you didn’t know what a storm trooper was? now he would just be embarrassed :(

the one free day that you guys have, he almost regrets wanting to work there in the first place

you: hey! you free this weekend?

vernon: depends… am i?

you: well make yourself free :p think you can scavenge some money to get a one day ticket to disneyland on saturday?

vernon: that is more than 100 dollars, do you really think

you: PLEASE IT’LL BE FUN !!!! my best friend and i just got seasonal passes and are ready to abuse it every weekend <3

vernon: ok and your speech?

you: …will be written before then :D

vernon: …fINE

vernon: bold of you to assume i already to have a pass. late to the fun train i see

oh gosh, what the hell did he just say yes to? he has work that day!

thankfully, he only needs to work one shift and that lasts a couple of hours. he can make an excuse for meeting up late - his best being getting into a long phone call with his parents and losing track of time (which you wholeheartedly believe given his known soft spot for his family)

there’s a possible chance, you won’t even go to his certain place of work anyways. maybe you’ll just go to check it out, go on a few rides and wander off.

it was late morning bleeding into the afternoon and vernon was all set in costume, ready to march around the side of the park as one of two of kylo ren’s bodyguards

on a warm, sunny california day like this, was the only time vernon didn’t particularly like having to play a character in a full body costume. he could feel the heat rising up in his helmet and sweat accumulates in places he didn’t know could sweat, uncomfortable wedgies throughout the day

and it suddenly gets a thousand times hotter when he sees you walking towards him, leading your best friend to the outside meet and greet area

during his time, vernon has seen some pretty surprising guests at disneyland all while keeping his composure and staying in character. but this is the first time he almost lets his mumbling slip past his microphone and nearly dropping his blaster to the ground

there’s nothing much that vernon can do as he stands in front of the guests, including you. it’s not like you came to see him specifically, everyone’s here to see the��kylo ren

so he decides to play it off the best and only way he knows how

“approach,” he says to you and your friend as it was their turn, gripping his fake weapon in both hands

he did not expect you to be so excited for this interaction. up close, vernon notices that you portrayed an opened mouth smile with a certain glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t get to see off duty

“have you sworn allegiance to the first order?” his partner to his left continues the conversation

“if i say yes, does that mean i can get a picture with you guys?” you fiddle to find the your phone in your disney themed backpack and hand it to your friend that seemed rather distracted upon other things

looking back and forth between the other storm trooper and you, as a cast member, vernon knew exactly what to say

“well that makes things easier for the both of us. proceed.”

your high pitched squeal finally gets the attention of your friend, taking a few steps back to take the photo

you’re sandwiched in between the two stormtroopers and an awkward kylo ren towering behind you

vernon promptly holds up his blaster with one hand over his shoulder, making for a more dramatic photo, but what the camera can’t capture is how completely flustered vernon is under his armored attire

he’s never been this close to you before

thank goodness he was playing a character or else you wouldn’t know what to do with him hyperventilating right in front of you

once the picture is shot and approved yours truly, you continue to have a one on one conversation with kylo ren before having to leave. giving vernon a little while to recover and look around at anywhere and anyone to calm down his heart as you stand just a mere few inches close to him

being considerate of your friend, your time is short and you guys make your way to the exist with slight disappoint shown on your face

vernon risks watching you leave the vicinity, not paying too much attention to the guests waiting patiently in line

and it’s worth it to see you look back at him one last time, feeling as if you could see right through his façade

#seventeen #vernon #caratwritersclub #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff #seventeen scenario #vernon scenario #vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #vernon imagine #svt x reader #svtstars

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halpertstuna · 4 years ago

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red cheeks - jj maybank

A/N: this was supposed to be a short blurb but you know me, i always have to add way too much details. so let’s just pretend it is. don’t know how i feel about this but i hope you guys enjoy(:

quick reminder, REQUESTS ARE OPEN<3

-> prompt list <-

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 2,171

summary: jj knows you always have something to say and gets suspicious when all of the sudden you stop talking back.

warnings: maybe like one mention of smoking, cursing, probs typos and i think that’s it really, if you notice something else lmk

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit: @anakin-skywalker )

—

Ever since the day JJ first met you, he’s been nothing but a flirt, and you always had something to say about it. Whether it was a sly comeback, a witty comment or a mean burn. From eye rolling to flipping off, you never let him forget he’s got absolutely no chance.

But lately, you’ve been awfully quiet around him, as if your hard exterior all of the sudden became much softer.

And he noticed.

The first time he became aware something changed, was one Thursday afternoon. You parked your car in front of the chateau, exiting it, then made your way towards five folding lawn chairs, two of which were occupied by Pope and Kie’s butts.

“Hey! We haven’t seen you all week! I guess you got John B’s text” Kie greeted you with a warm smile.

You plopped down on an empty chair beside her, filling it with your presence. “Yeah, I’ve been busy,” you stated as you looked around, followed by the question “where is the idiot anyway?”

“i’m right here!”

JJ said like a frisky pup, exiting the chateau as he took a swing of his almost empty beer bottle.

“surprisingly enough, i’m not talking about you this time” you retorted, smiling at him sarcastically.

“He ran out of liquor and chips, so he went to the grocery store to get some more” Pope answered your already forgotten question as JJ’s essence filled the air.

“What do you need him for anyway?” Kie questioned, “I need to talk to him about something”

“You can always talk to me princess” JJ said through a smirk as he sat on the armrest of your chair, then brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, expecting an elbow in his ribs. But nothing followed his action. That’s when he perceived the faintest of flushes creeping up your cheeks.

At the beginning he thought nothing of it, but the way you practically flew out of your lawn chair with John B.’s arrival, made him a bit skeptical.

When John B. parked the Twinkie you offered to help him put away the groceries, and walked him inside with bags of food, snacks and beers in your hands.

As you assisted in unloading the contents of the bags to the fridge and cabinets, he trailed off “So...did you tell him?”

“Shhhh!” He cackled at your reddening face “keep it down Rutledge! Or I swear to god I’ll sew your mouth shut, you indiscreet meatloaf.”

John B. was your best friend far before the other pogues came along, he knew you like the palm of his hand. He always suggested you had a thing for JJ and that you rather enjoyed the attention he gave you, yet you always revoked his claims, stating he was nothing but annoying.

Until you realised John B. might have been right all along.

It happened last Friday. You guys threw a kegger at the boneyard and for the first time, you actually took notice of how JJ gave all of his undivided attention to some touron.

As you stared at the tan boy, you found yourself wishing it were your hip he was caressing.

Suddenly he paid no heed to your existence and that’s when you realised all of your feelings and responses to his so called annoying actions, were you denying yourself to him. And as he talked her up through his enchanting smile, you realised you didn’t want him to give that teasingly, flirty care towards anyone but you, and for a brief moment you found yourself actually missing his antics.

Luckily, you were quite gifted with the ability to hide your feelings, almost no one could see through you. Just almost. Of course you couldn’t hide anything from John B., just by the way your eyes flickered past JJ as he led the touron to the spare room, he noticed something was wrong. Different.

Later that night he nudged you until you broke, admitting your feelings for JJ were true, and during that week, he kept trying to convince you to tell him how you feel. With no luck, you hadn’t said a word. Instead, you had been trying to avoid JJ by avoiding the rest of the pogues.

“Well, did you?”

“No you melon, if I had I would’ve told you, obviously”

“Okay Juliet” he teased and you poked his side making him flinch then chuckle.

“No but seriously, you should do something about it”

“Do something about what?”

JJ chimed in, walking towards the two of your figures that were sat on the kitchen counter.

“Nothing” you said simultaneously. You started feeling nervous and decided to jump off and walk out, leaving the two alone inside.

JJ had a bewildered expression on his face, he was expecting a ‘keep your nose out of my business’, yet instead you just walked passed him avoiding eye contact, which was very uncharacteristic of you.

“What’s up with her today?”

JJ asked as he hopped on the counter, taking over your former spot next to his best friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you couldn’t have possibly missed that. She is way nicer to me than usual”

John B. shrugged his shoulders, as if he didn’t know what he were talking about.

Curious, JJ couldn’t help himself, “So... did she ask about me?”

John B. rolled his eyes at the question, he was fully aware that all of JJ’s courtship wasn’t completely an act, he knew JJ was fairly infatuated with you, yet he felt it wasn’t really his place to interfere, knowing you have the right to tell him when you’re ready. And even though he did try to push you to do it, he still knew where to draw the line, not selling off either of his best friends to the other.

“Yes”

JJ looked at John B. wide eyed waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t he impatiently blurted “well!? What did she say!?”

“I believe her exact words were ‘what can I do to get that nitwit to leave me alone’”

JJ jabbed his side and in reply, John B. smacked the back of his head gently, saying “what is with you guys and my ribs today? Leave them at peace you feisty goon”

“She didn’t actually say that right?” JJ tried to play it cool, pretending it didn’t really bother him but it was apparent to John B. he somewhat cared.

“I’m just joking dude, ask her yourself if you want to know so badly” He replied as he too, hopped off the counter joining the rest outside.

At the beginning, JJ was only inquisitive by your behavior, but with time he got suspicious.

You didn’t only stop talking back but stopped being around him as well, like two days later, it was the moment he stepped foot in the chateau that you were all of the sudden in a hurry to leave although only seconds before you were talking about how comfortable the couch was and how you never wanted to get up. Every time he was around, you avoided his eyes, touch and tried to ignore his overall presence, you talked to everyone regularly but whensoever he’d tempt start a conversation, you’d shy away.

He didn’t understand what happened, he even contemplated the possibility you were mad, yet it made no sense, for he couldn’t recollect a reason to why you would be.

He couldn’t recall saying or doing something that could hurt you either, so the only alternative left to think of, was that you actually began hating him.

Unbeknownst to him that your attempts at avoiding him were for the exact opposite reason.

You were petrified that if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way, it would ruin everything.

Sure, he always pinned after you, constantly reminding you how much he did want you, but that was just JJ. He hit on every girl with a heartbeat, you never thought of his gestures as anything more than his sheer nature. So you never even considered to confess your feelings for him.

Two weeks have passes by since you guys all sat together at John B.’s, two weeks since JJ developed his suspension.

You were doing a history assignment when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up then reflecting on the glass of the framed picture of you and the pogues that was sitting on your nightstand. You decided to ignore it in favour of the unfinished essay, knowing if you checked it now you’d be stuck on your phone for ages.

A couple of hours passed by and you completed all of your work.

You rushed to pick up your phone, practically collapsing onto your bed, ecstatic that you finished and can finally rest. You unlocked it only to find out your very much needed break was over. You had a text from John B. asking you to come over to the chateau asap.

You reluctantly got up and drove to the chateau, wondering what could possibly be so urgent - but not urgent enough to call.

As soon as you got there, you noticed a mop of blond locks peaking out of the hammock, you immediately recognised them as JJ’s.

You tried walking passed him but his words halted you in your tracks.

“He’s not in there,” you turned around to meet his drowsy figure laying on the hammock with a lit joint resting in between his lips.

“And hello to you too” he added, knowing you saw him.

“Hi” you walked closer to him, lips curving into a faint smile.

He diverted his gaze upwards, it was quite for a few moments, then he asked “Are lobsters mermaids to scorpions?” mesmerised by his own question he narrowed his eyes, making you giggle and roll your own.

“JJ, how high are you?”

“Six foot, why?”

You scrunched your nose at his answer, face palming at his stupidity.

“Well i should probably go look for John B.,” you declared beginning to make your way towards your car when he admitted, “I actually sent you that text”.

You turned around with furrowed eyebrows to meet his guilty eyes.

“I’m going home JJ”

“Wait! Please, stay” he plead. “I wanted to talk to you, and I wanted it to be face to face but I knew if the text was sent from my phone you wouldn’t be here right now”.

It took you a moment to comprehend his words, his actions, eventually realising it was true, you gave in. You approached the hammock signaling him to move and he obeyed, you got in and laid beside him, hands on your stomach as an awkward silence filled the air.

“Well, did you swallow your tongue or something?”

He was actually thinking about a way to ask his question in a gradual manner.

“how come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?”

But failed.

“what do you mean?”

“oh come on, you‘re nicer than usual”

“i mean, i’ll punch you in the face if you want” you asserted confidentiality as if you didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“I’m serious! First you started ignoring my comments which is very unlike you, since you always talk back. But then you started ignoring me in general. It’s like you always seem to be away when I’m around or at a distance when I try to engage conversation. What’s up with that? Are you mad at me, did i do something?”

“What? No JJ, you didn’t do anything”

“Then why?”

You stayed silent, not wanting to admit you had feelings for him. He continue throwing possibilities, trying to justify your actions, going crazy but knowing you probably won’t tell him what’s going on. And you only grew redder by the minute.

“I mean it’s either I did something to upset you, or- Wait a minute-“

He turned to look at you, a mischievous smile of realisation painted across his face, “you like me”

Your eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as you didn’t know what to say yet still tried to stall “I will squeeze your kneecaps”

“You didn’t say no!”

“Why did you get high anyway?”

“It took you two hours to get here, I thought you weren’t coming- Ah! You’re trying to change the subject! you didn’t say no!”

“Just shut up and kiss me you dill hole”

With no hesitation he launched his entire body to his left in an attempt to hover over you and do as told, but instead, he ended up flipping the hammock upside down, hurling both of you onto the solid ground.

You were out of breath as you guffawed, the sound of your heavy laughs mingled filling the air, when his hand found its way to your hair, pulling out a leaf that was tangled in it.

He brushed the loose locks behind your ear, his eyes holding nothing but utter adoration towards the girl beside him, since he now knows, he will never cease to make you blush.

—

taglist:

@infinitelycharmed23 @queenofthepouges @bibliophilewednesday @bijleegiregi @princessnnylzays

feel free to add yourself to my taglist!

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #obx #imagine #imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #outer banks jj maybank #outer banks imagine #obx jj maybank #obx imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #obx netflix #outer banks jj #ashley’s writing

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thedreadvampy · 4 years ago

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ok so this trip down memory lane kind of leads neatly into what I was wanting to talk about last night (even though it’s past 4am again oops)

which is the gendered nature of queerbaiting and of bi/homophobia

like last night @silly-slacker-person and I were talking about Glee and about how like...the Brittana relationship started with the improvised line “if having sex was dating, Santana and I would be dating” and how that fits into a Pattern

where queerbaiting with male characters is about emotional intimacy but They Can Never Kiss Or Touch Sexually, queerbaiting with female characters is...weird.

queerbaiting with female characters is often almost the inverse of queerbaiting with male characters. female characters will kiss on screen, touch constantly, and even actually have sex with each other, but the story will still regularly insist they’re straight. and romance is off-limits. emotional intimacy is withheld. it’s always waved away with being a performance, or an experiment, or a thing they’re doing because they’re horny and don’t have a boyfriend.

and think about how often queerbaiting with women involves maneuvering them into a situation where they kiss onscreen but in a purely performative way (the example that springs inevitably to mind is Veronica and Betty in Riverdale - images of them kissing were all over the marketing for the show, and in reality they kissed as part of a choreographed performance in-story - I can also think of several examples where it’s as part of a game, a dare or because their boyfriends tell them to/to titillate their boyfriends) or like...it’s not technically Queerbaiting but how often women specifically are made bisexual but only in a teehee coy ‘it’s sexy when girls kiss’ way.

whereas queerbaiting with men is an “I love you...bro” or a quiet moment or a point of emotional intimacy and them touching remotely sexually/romantically is seen as the Proof Of Queerness, which writers will often shy away from committing to

it only tends to become A Canon Queer Thing when men express physical/sexual intimacy (kissing or sex)

it only tends to become A Canon Queer Thing when women express emotional/romantic intimacy (dating, “I love you”s, or monogamy)

and I feel...Some Kind Of Way about this and how it slots into the experience of exploring your own wlw identity. how women are still assumed to be and treated as straight even if they’re regularly seeking/having sex with other women unless they a) reject men utterly or b) enter a monogamous relationship.

and it feeds into something I’ve thought about a lot over the years which is how thoroughly gendered the experience of bi/homophobia is (not in terms of how you identify but in terms of how the -phobe is reading you)

like ultimately it comes down to the idea that men define sexuality

all sexual contact with women is overridden/negated by sexual contact with men. women aren’t given the same power to define sexuality as men.

which means that if you are a man who kisses/sleeps with men even once, you are gay

if you are a woman, kissing/sleeping with a man even once will make you straight

so sexual contact between women isn’t threatening the way sexual contact between men is. however gay a woman gets you can always walk it back in the eyes of heteronormativity. but if a man Goes Gay even a little bit that’s his identity set in stone however many women he goes on to sleep with/date.

and ultimately not to be crass it’s about The World Revolving Around Men’s Dicks. literally. so much of the gendered construction of homo/biphobia is about a patriarchal society unable to comprehend the concept that you could sleep with a man and be unchanged by it. sex and sexuality has been framed so universally for so long in so many cultures as a matter of male power and that is so definitional to homo/biphobia and to mainstream ideas about sexuality.

and that means that homophobia and biphobia are very shaped by your perceived gender in relation to your attraction

gay men are threatening because male sexuality is seen as such a powerful, shaping force, that the mere presence of gay men could be enough to shape the sexuality of men around them. this horror of Being Turned Gay this utter distress at the fragility of heterosexuality is so foundational to the way homophobia is upheld and expressed. it’s vital to heteronormative masculinity to distance yourself from gayness by any means necessary, to violently reject gayness, because even slight contact with male sexual or romantic intimacy has the power to redefine you.

whereas a lot of lesbophobia rests on the idea that it’s a deliberate rejection of men, and a temporary one - you’ll find the right man. sex with a man has the power to change you. and because of that relationships between women aren’t seen as meaningful in their own right. like a lot of cultures prohibiting sex between men treat sex between women as a natural, expected adolescent experiment, or as irrelevant as long as you also fuck your husband. it isn’t threatening to heteronormativity to kiss, fuck or love women, until you say this is real and it matters. Then it’s threatening because you’re being mean. You’re saying the Not Serious Not Definitional relationship of women loving women is powerful, more powerful than the Defining Power of Man Dick, and that’s aberrant, and it’s also kind of seen as...childish? silly? like you just Don’t Understand that women loving women isn’t Real Attraction. you can’t define yourself through sex with women! they’re not men! women are defined by, they don’t define!

and as a bi woman who largely dates bi men, I’m particularly interested in the gendered nature of biphobia

bi men are assumed to be “really” gay and in the closet

bi women are assumed to be “really” straight and performing attraction to women for male attraction

and that brings us full-circle to glee

see Ty and I were talking about the two really offensive stories in glee which affected us as bi teenagers

he was talking about the story where Blaine says “I think I might be bi” and Kurt tells him “bi guys don’t exist, bisexual is just a label for closeted gay high schoolers”

I was talking about the story of Finn outing Santana, which is a CLUSTERFUCK. but aside from the outing, thinking about how everyone canonically knew that she was sleeping with Brittany but she was only put in danger when it was named as a queer love. like that she was still understood as entirely straight and Doing It For Attention even when holding hands, kissing and fucking another woman, as long as she didn’t call it love or a relationship.

and I’ve talked to a lot of other bi people about the experience of being a bi teenager and almost everyone who was read as a woman as a teenager speaks to doubting the veracity of their attraction to women, to being treated as an attention-seeker looking for male attention or someone going through an experimental phase. and I think that’s usually how we talk about biphobia. as being assumed “a straight person looking for attention”. but the experience of a lot of people of narratives about bi men are a bit different and so the experience of bi teenage boys is really different. for girls/”girls”, queerness is something that has to be constantly asserted and proved. for boys/”boys”, it’s straightness that has to be proved. even if you mostly date girls, if you ever like. kissed a boy at a party or expressed attraction to another guy then people assumed you were gay and your attraction to women was fake.

and the throughline isn’t comphet it’s. I guess...comp-liking-men. it’s the assumption that attraction to women is a shadow of attraction to men. it can’t possibly compete.

I have often expressed, often to girlfriends I just had sex with, my fear that I’m appropriating queerness by laying any claim to it. like they look at me like I’m an idiot but later they’ll tell me the same thing. and that’s a fragility that assumed-male queerness just doesn’t have. male heterosexuality is so fragile that anything straying even slightly away from it is seen as Deeply, Threateningly Queer. female heterosexuality is so default that queerness has to CONSTANTLY fight for any space against it - even glancing in the direction of heterosexuality is enough to negate queerness. if you sleep with a man, if you even express the opinion that a man is good-looking, you’re Straight Now. they’re mirror images of each other and ultimately yeah it really comes down to the expectation of male power

and also kind of...the irrelevance of women’s feelings in sexuality? the construction of all sexuality (including heterosexuality) as Male Desire and Female Acquiescence - historically society tends to not give a shit what women want, feel or love as long as they have sex with their husbands and don’t run the risk of having another man’s babies. it honestly like, not to get all Straw Feminist on this but it comes down to the subjugation and dehumanisation of women. a woman in patriarchy is an object owned and used to serve a function and a relationship that doesn’t threaten the ownership or affect the function (you’re still having sex with him and he still knows your child is his) isn’t a threat. women aren’t owners, they’re owned. if you say ‘actually I belong to this other woman and not to you’ it becomes a threat. if you start refusing to be a wife or a sexual partner or a mother it becomes a threat. but “passionate friendships” and schoolgirl experimentation weren’t just tolerated but sometimes actively encouraged as long as you still fulfilled your function as a wife fully. like you can fuck other girls before you get married - that’ll help you learn to Do Sex without having you Tainted By Another Man. you can keep a live-in mistress as long as you understand that your husband will always take precedence - that way you can have those pesky emotional needs met but you won’t cheat on him with a man and cuckold him. it’s only when you say This Is Queer And This Matters And We Matter that it becomes a threat. when she starts mattering as much as him. when you don’t marry men but devote yourself to women. now you’re Failing In Your Function. obviously this isn’t how it’s framed now but like. these ideas seem to me to have a direct throughline to the ways queer women are recieved now - as either Basically Straight or as Aggressive Rejectors Of The Normal.

idk it’s 5:30 am now I should sleep. but. this is such a rich topic I could talk about it forever.

#biphobia #homophobia #lesbophobia #queerbaiting #misogyny #COVERED A LOT OF SERIOUS GROUND HERE FOR A CONVERSATION STARTING WITH GLEE

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booksimp · 4 years ago

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Flame of Autumn - Part Two

A/N: Part two of Midnight at Rita’s is finally here, everyone! Sorry it took so long, I started a new job and I’ve been a bit overwhelmed. As you can tell, I’ve named this series something different. That’s because Midnight at Rita’s was supposed to be a smut one off, but it has a mind of it’s own and has become an actual fic. This will be part two of a series called “Flame of Autumn”. This fic is going to be quite long, and more elaborate than anything I’ve written here so far. I hope you enjoy!

“Oh, fucking hell.” I curse, clapping a hand over my mouth in shock.

Azriel chuckles sardonically, running a hand through his already sex mussed curls, puffing out a shocked breath. His cheeks are an adorable shade of pink, eyes wide.

“Well said.”

For a few moments, we just sit and feel the bond thrum between us, like the plucked string of a cello. We’re still flushed and dazed, our panting breaths the only sound in the room as we stare at each other.

A strange intermingling of emotion overwhelms me. Elation, joy, desire. A desire to take hold of Azriel and never, ever be parted from him. But all of it is entirely eclipsed by a sense of dread. It wraps itself around my throat, my heart, like a noose of ice.

A mate is just another person to lose, to endanger with my own existence.

The faces of all those that have suffered to protect me, that I ultimately lost, flash across my vision. A macabre version of a scrapbook. Just as easily as he perceived my earlier insecurities, Azriel notices the rising emotions in me. With the mate bond newly revealed, I wonder if the connection we’d felt all night had been the first clue. That, and his uncanny ability to read me like an open book.

“Sabine, I don’t expect anything from you. But I- I’d like to explore this. We can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”

His face shines with hope as he takes my hand in his, squeezing gently. A hesitant reach down the bond caresses against me. His eyes are open and earnest, a shy smile on his face. The epitome of honest and trustworthy.

I wonder what he would think if he knew Sabine isn’t my real name.

A pang of guilt shoots through me, at the dishonesty of it, and it's suddenly hard to breathe. Lying to others has become disturbingly easy over the years I’ve been in hiding. I’m skilled at it now, diversion and distraction like second nature. But the thought of keeping up the ruse with my mate is unbearable. Having to lie every day, and to the person who should know the absolute truth of myself? I can’t do it. I won’t do it.

I’m opening my mouth to admit things I haven’t in years, when my mothers face flashes through my mind. She was the first to implore me to hide my abilities, and the first to die because of them.

“You threaten his crown. He will destroy everything you love to keep you quiet, my girl. You cannot give him more ammunition. You get close to no one. You keep moving. Don’t ever come back here.”

Her words ring in my ears like I’m hearing them for the first time. I shut my mouth with a snap. I can’t tell Azriel anything, for fear of bringing the wrath of my father down on him. Can I even stay in Velaris?

When I first heard of the hidden city of the Night Court, heavily guarded by the most powerful High Lord, I rejoiced. Isolated and with a varied population, it made the perfect hiding place. Not to mention that Velaris is far outside the reach of my fathers court. I’ve felt almost safe here, and the thought of leaving this city, of leaving Azriel, has my heart sinking into my stomach. Azriel slowly places a hand on my cheek, breaking me free of my internal struggle. Concern shapes his features, hazel eyes heartbreakingly gentle. He is too perceptive to not see the indecision and fear in me, bond or not. Without meaning to, I speak.

“Okay.”

A relieved grin graces his lips. I feel the apprehension fading from him, being replaced with soft joy. It makes my decision for me. Azriel is an Illyrian, not exactly an easy target. We’re in the safest place there is for me. If I guard my secret well enough, I can stay. Stay, and see where this newfound bond leads us. I pray to the Cauldron that I’m not making a stupid, selfish mistake.

“Are you sure?” His brow furrows, intent on my response.

In that moment, I know that no matter how strongly he feels, Azriel will let me walk away. If I decide he’s not what I want, he would honor my choice no questions asked. It only makes me more certain of my decision. I’ve never been one to tolerate a controlling male.

“Absolutely. Are you?” I ask, inching closer to him, still clutching the sheets against myself.

His eyes flicker down to my chest, and back to my eyes. When a faint blush paints his cheeks, I nearly drop the bedding in shock. So the confident male can get flustered. I file the information away for later, barely containing a smirk.

“Of course I am, I’ve waited almost six hundred years for you.” His voice is low, each syllable more sure than the last.

My heart soars inside my chest at his words. Depthless hazel eyes bore into mine, and his shadows brush against my bare skin. They send shivers all along my body, and I edge even closer to him. He meets me in the middle of the bed, his forehead touching mine as his gaze roves over me like I’m a precious, once lost jewel. I do the same, drinking in the sight of the magnificent shadowsinger before me. My mate.

Long ago, some inexplicable force decided that he belonged to me, and I him. I wonder what makes us so compatible, and I find I’m excited to discover every reason for myself. I want to know all the simple, small details of him like the back of my hand. I want to memorize the planes of his face, every color in his eyes.

If my mother could meet him, I imagine she’d remark on the beautiful grandchildren we’d make her. It's that thought, and the sudden realization that we are both very naked, that has a fierce blush coloring my face.

“Maybe we should get dressed.” I whisper, only slightly breathless.

Azriel’s eyes run along my sheet-clad form once more, before he pins me with that now familiar alluring smile.

“As you wish.”

He says again, only making me more flushed at the memory. Without an ounce of shame, the Illyrian rises to his feet and walks to the dresser at the other end of the room. He begins digging through the drawers, before selecting some grey sweatpants and a long sleeve black shirt for himself. I’m still wrapped in his sheets, attempting to not gawk at the unobstructed view of his ass, when Azriel looks over his shoulder at me. He smirks at my obvious observation of his body.

“Do you want something other than your dress? Something more comfortable?”

I look down at the rumpled silk garment on the floor and grimace. He’s right, the thought of shimmying myself into it right now is about as appealing as a cold bath in the middle of winter.

“Yes please. Preferably something a bit warmer.”

He nods, and picks a few items from his dresser. He places them on the bed before me and fixes me with a sweet, slightly shy grin.

“Are you hungry? I have pastries from the bakery down the street. I could make coffee?”

My ears perk at the mention of food, and my stomach grumbles in agreement. I like that instead of pushing me to continue our conversation about our future, he’s making sure I’m fed and comfortable. That warm, light sensation flutters in my belly again.

“I never turn down coffee or carbs.” I manage to get out, smiling coyly.

“Noted.” Azriel smiles again, a quiet amusement in his eyes.

He leaves me to change, heading towards the kitchen to start the coffee. I put on the sweatshirt and black briefs left for me. Both are too big, but they’re warm and soft against my skin. Worlds better than the dress. I pull the collar of the sweatshirt up to my nose and inhale his scent of cedar and moonlight and rain. Gods, what does he bathe in that makes him smell so good?

For the first time all night, I’m able to observe Azriel’s bedroom. My eyes widen as I take in the beautiful A frame ceiling with exposed wooden beams. The soft patter of rain on glass draws my eyes to the east wall, which is made entirely of paneled windows. Silver rivulets of water run down their surface, reflecting flickering beams of moonlight into the room. The floors are a dark oak, the walls a calming sage.

Candles burn on Azriel’s overflowing bookcase, and the fireplace crackles merrily on the opposite wall. I reach out hesitantly with my ability, and feel the heat of each flame flicker inside my awareness. For a moment, I watch the candle flames dance and twist under my will. It's rare that I ever have the chance to explore my gift, the small flames too often exploding into an uncontrolled inferno that attracts attention. But I can’t help playing just a little.

The sound of a kettle whistling startles me from my reverie, and a few tea lights extinguish entirely. I wince, and quickly light them again before following Azriel into the kitchen.

He’s at the counter, adding hot water to a french press. The earthy scent of coffee tickles my nose as he presses the grounds down, the muscles of his arm flexing deliciously.

“How do you take your coffee?” He asks, gesturing towards a pale box of pastries for me to choose from.

“Cream and sugar. Lots of cream.”

“You like your coffee sweet.” He smiles to himself as he pours extra cream and sugar into my cup, as if adding the observance to a mental list.

I pad closer and peer at the box of pastries over his broad shoulder. On the front it reads ‘Diana’s Bakery and Coffeehouse’ in elegant script. I bite my lip to keep from laughing as I open the familiar box, and take a bagel from inside.

He notices me smiling at the pastries and raises a thick eyebrow at me, the corner of his lip quirking up.

“What is it?”

“Nothing it's just - well I work at Diana’s.” I laugh, taking a bite of the magically warmed bagel after liberally smearing it with cream cheese.

“You do? But I’ve been in there everyday this week, I haven’t seen you.”

He passes my mug to me, filled to the brim with creamy coffee, and I take a careful sip. He leans against the marble counter, hazel eyes looking me up and down, that small smirk making an appearance once again. What is it about males liking us in their clothes? Not that I’m complaining.

“Well, you wouldn’t. I work in the back with Diana as her baking apprentice. I even baked those cinnamon rolls.”

I know they’re mine by the slightly imperfect glazing. Diana is meticulous and every single treat she bakes is always flawless.

He points to the icing covered cinnamon rolls inside the box, mouth gaping in shock.

“These cinnamon rolls? They’re the best I’ve ever had. I’ve been buying you guys out everyday.” Azriel exclaims, eyes wide and alight with surprise.

“Oh, so you’re the reason I’ve had to make twice as many recently?” I chuckle, pink staining my cheeks. The fact that Azriel loves my baking brings me way too much delight to be proper.

“I’m sorry, but Cassian and I can’t get enough of them. What do you do to them? They’re like biting into a cloud!”

“I can’t tell you that! It's a secret recipe!” I wink, a goofy grin on my face.

Azriel rolls his eyes and smiles, grumbling about how secretive bakers are as he deposits a large mound of cinnamon rolls onto a plate. A truly genuine smile breaks across my face at the sight. He collects his own mug and leads me to a comfy couch, where we both plop down and tuck into our midnight snacks.

I can’t help but watch him, completely mystified. This sexy, adorable male is my mate? I’ve never felt lucky a day in my life, but as Azriel finishes his third cinnamon roll, I can’t help but feel like the fates smiled on this one aspect of my life. Having finished my bagel, I sip on my coffee and relax into the couch. I’ve been running for a long time, keeping everyone at arm's length, never staying in one place for more than a few years. But maybe I can stay hidden in Velaris and keep Azriel a lot closer. Maybe I don’t have to be alone. I want that future so badly it becomes hard to breath.

“So you bake. You dance at Rita’s. What else?”

Azriel’s voice brings me back to the present, and I glance up from my coffee cup. Silent laughter dances in the hazel depths of his eyes, his plate of pastries discarded on the coffee table. Suddenly self conscious under his intent gaze, I reach a hand up to feel the tangled masses of my dark hair. I grimace when I realize what a mess it’s become. It will probably need to be dyed again as well.

“I play music. Mostly the piano. I write sometimes. And you?”

The admissions, however small, make my throat tight with anxiety. I haven’t told anyone anything true about myself in years, and I haven’t touched a piano in just as long. The feeling is nerve wracking, and I can’t help but feel exposed. My eyes follow the upward curve of his lips as he smiles at me, one arm draped over the back of the couch.

“I can see you playing piano. You have the hands for it.”

I blush at his statement, my gaze falling to my entirely ordinary hands. What does that even mean?

“I’m something of a homebody. If I’m not with my brothers, I’m probably here with a book. I train, I work, I come home."

That explains the mountains of novels all over his room. And the incredible body. He reaches over and runs a hand through my slightly curling hair, the hours I’d spent straightening it made useless. He curls one of the ringlets around his finger, giving it a slight tug, before he tucks it behind my ear. Every single nervous thought evaporates at his touch.

“I like your hair like this, especially since I’m the one who made it this messy.”

He murmurs, a sudden heat in his eyes. I feel my body warm in response to that look, and I have to divert my gaze down at my lap to keep from jumping him right there. Again.

“You’re a shameless flirt, shadowsinger.” I mutter, playing with the silver ring of leaves on my finger, noticing that his thigh is now pressed against mine. When had he moved so close?

“Not usually, trust me. My brothers would be astonished.” He laughs, running a hand through his own messy hair.

“Not usually?” I trace a finger along the back of his hand, fascinated by the combination of scarring and complex veins.

He shivers slightly, and I smile in satisfaction. He’s not the only one who can play that game.

“I make exceptions for my mate.” He whispers, taking my hand from his and pressing a kiss to my palm, lips soft and warm.

“I was supposed to have drinks with my brothers. They must think I decided to stay in.” He laughs against my skin, kissing his way to the pulse point of my wrist.

“Little do they know, huh?” I gasp, made breathless by his ministrations and the thought of exactly why he’d ditched his brothers tonight.

“Little do they know. When you’re ready, I - uh. I know they’d love to meet you.” He looks up at me, cheeks filling with color as he straightens.

My stomach drops, and a bit of reality comes crashing down. A mate is one thing, but letting his family into my life? They’d be two more people to lie to, two more people in danger because of me. I avoid any straight answers, and decide to divert his attention elsewhere.

“Tell me about them?” I drink from my mug, using it as an excuse to break eye contact. I can’t shake the feeling that he can see down to the very truth of me when our gazes meet.

“Their names are Cassian and Rhys. Complete idiots. But those two have saved my life in so many ways.” His eyes glow with a warm, far away look, a goofy smile on his face.

“It sounds like you love them very much.” I speak softly, not wanting that radiant look to ever leave his face.

“I do. Do you have any siblings?” His eyes flicker back to me, the distance clearing from them.

“An older brother. Micah.” I try not to let my voice break on his name, the longing slamming into my chest like a horse at a full sprint.

I curse myself for using my brother's real name, a slip up I wouldn’t have made with anyone else. Azriel’s mere presence is enough to disarm me, and it's a struggle to focus with him this close. I haven’t seen Micah since the day our mother was murdered by my fathers sentries, and we both fled for our lives. In opposite directions. The day that started my life on the run.

“Are you two close?” Azriel’s shadows curl around me as he squeezes my hand in silent support, like he already knows the answer.

“We used to be, when we were young. Not so much anymore.”

I tense, hoping that he doesn’t push the subject. I can’t exactly tell him the truth of our forced estrangement. At least not yet.

“Where are you from?”

His tone is light, and I am endlessly grateful for the change in conversation. He doesn’t seem to miss a thing when it comes to me. The thought is a constant inkling of worry in the back of my head.

“Not Velaris.” I reply quickly.

It technically isn’t a lie, but the evasion feels even worse.

“I could’ve guessed that, love. I’ve lived here for hundreds of years, if you lived in Velaris I would’ve found you sooner. Are you from the Night Court?”

He chuckles, taking up another strand of my hair to play with. For a moment, I forget that he’s waiting on a response.

“No, Summer Court. Adriata. Did you grow up in Illyria?”

I attempt to change the subject, the subterfuge like spoiled milk in my stomach. I wish I could tell him all about my little cottage on the outskirts of the Autumn Court, about my mothers smile, and Micah’s penchant for getting me into trouble. Instead, I have to wriggle my way out of letting him get to know me. This is going to be harder than I thought.

“Unfortunately, I did.” Shadows rise from deep within his eyes, blotting out almost all the light in them.

I’ve heard many stories about the brutality of Illyria. Their perilous winters and sprawling mountains, the discipline that they ingrain into their children, how they throw themselves into the path of war. I wonder who put the scars on his hands, his wings, and I feel sick for an entirely different reason.

I search his eyes for answers, glimpsing an age old sadness there. I feel him trying to shove it down deep, but he can’t hide from me anymore than I can from him. A burning rage seethes in my chest at that sadness. It makes me want to grow claws and rip and tear, scorch those responsible with my flames.

He closes his eyes and rests his head where my shoulder and collarbone meet, a deep sigh leaving him. From the tension in his body, I know he wants me to let the topic drop. So instead of asking the questions on the tip of my tongue, I kiss the top of his head and stroke his back softly. He practically purrs, pressing closer, telling me to continue. I smile softly, trailing my fingers down his spine in slow circles. His back is deliciously firm, and rippling with muscles from his often used wings. Heat scorches across my face as I remember how I brought him over the edge just by kissing them, the absolute unleashing of it.

“I- I didn’t realize. That, well um- your wings. That they were so-“ I stutter pitifully, the blush spreading down my neck.

Azriel leans back to meet my eyes, a slight smile beginning on his face, previous troubles forgotten.

“You didn’t know?” He asks, disbelief in his tone and a glint of amusement in his eye.

“No, they just looked very kissable.”

He throws his head back and gives a loud, full belly laugh. I beam at the musical sound, satisfaction flowing through me. I want to make him laugh like that again and again.

“An Illyrian males wings are the most sensitive part of their body. If touched in the perfect spot, we can finish from that alone. As you saw. But they are also our greatest weapon, and we protect them accordingly. For that reason, I usually keep them far away from any - partners.” He explains after sobering from his laughter, voice soft and a slight blush painting his elegant cheekbones.

“But you make exceptions for your mate?” I ask, eyes downcast as I play with the cuff of his long sleeve shirt.

“I do. Only for you.” He takes my hands from his sleeve, and presses them to his lips once again.

I glance up at him, to find his eyes already on me. The warmth and tenderness I find there has my heart flying in my chest, and tears pricking my eyes. I blink them away hurriedly, looking to his wings instead of the intense emotion he’s showing me. For some reason, the adoration I see there has a small burst of fear running through me.

“I’m glad you let me touch them. They’re beautiful.” I whisper reverently as l behold the incredible expanse of his wings.

Vibrant plum and lavender, veined with maroon and the silver of scar tissue. I can’t even think of these beautiful, majestic wings being mutilated like that. My hands ache to touch them again, feel their silky warmth.

“You definitely showed your appreciation for them.” He leans closer, his breath fanning across my cheek as he whispers in my ear.

It sends shivers deep into my core, and I have to squeeze my thighs together and hope he doesn’t catch my scent. The confident, seductive Azriel of earlier tonight is back.

“Not yet I haven’t.” I murmur, emboldened by my renewed need for him.

The need comes quickly, overwhelmingly. Especially now that I know what being with him is like. Entirely world shattering. He may have ruined every other male for me. Again, not that I’m complaining. A low rumble comes from deep in his chest, and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap with ease.

“Is that so?” There’s a sultry promise in his voice, and I feel him stir against my thigh.

The room is filled with our mingled arousal as he inhales against my neck.

“I still can’t believe I found you.” He groans, pressing kisses against my throat.

I let my eyes fall closed, shocked anew at how easily he reduces me to a gasping mess. His hands begin to roam over my hips and waist, his touch worshipping and disbelieving. When I begin to slowly move myself over his growing arousal, I feel a shift in him. His hands halt their exploration, and he tenses beneath me. I open my eyes to find his face veiled with worry, his brow creasing.

“You don’t have to, Sabine.” He cups my face in his hands, dark eyes gleaming with concern.

I try not to flinch at the false name, and I wonder what his voice would sound like saying the name my mother gave me.

Shoving those thoughts away, I shake my head, a small grin forming on my lips. Does he not see how infatuated I am already? Of course I don’t have to, but I want to.

“Az, you idiot.”

And with that, I plant my lips on his. He doesn’t need further convincing. His body responds to mine eagerly, a low growl building in his chest. My back meets the leather couch as Azriel maneuvers himself above me, his hands sliding under the hem of my sweatshirt. He is somehow gentle and commanding all at once, his skin burning hot against mine. I sigh into the kiss as I give myself to him, entirely content to do so this time.

“You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.”

He whispers against my lips, that reverent tone back in full force. My eyes prick as my chest fills with equal parts warmth and fear. I can see how easy it would be to love my mate. To fall fast and completely. And the part of me that’s been running scared from those I once loved is terrified.

“I’m scared.” I murmur back, surprised at my own honesty.

I feel his frown against my lips, and he only holds me tighter.

“I’m scared too, love. But I won’t ever hurt you. You’re - You are everything.” His eyes, soft and dark and endlessly kind, convince me.

I smile sheepishly at him, holding out my left pinky.

“Promise?”

Without hesitation, he wraps his finger around mine.

“I promise.”

The next morning, sunlight streaming in through the expansive windows wakes me. A sleepy contentment keeps me drowsy and warm, and I stretch like a cat after a particularly restful nap.

“Good morning.”

Cauldron, his morning voice is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

I blink my eyes open, the blurry image of a very amused Azriel coming into focus. His black hair is tousled and falling onto his forehead, and pillow marks color his cheeks.

Delicious.

I cuddle closer to him instead of replying, not ready to start the day yet. He wraps both arms around me as I bury my head in his very bare chest. Memories of last night rise to the surface, and I feel my cheeks warm. After his pinky promise, Azriel made love to me. That's the only way to describe the beautiful, tender way he touched me. He made sure every ounce of doubt was replaced with complete trust. It was the most intimate I had ever been with anyone in my entire life.

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?” He asks, a teasing grin curling his full lips.

I can’t help but remember those lips on my body in the living room. And the bedroom. And the bathtub. Needless to say, we didn’t sleep until dawn.

“W-What did I say?” I can only imagine the mortifying things my sleep self has to say to this male.

“Just my name. Over and over again.” His voice deepens, eyes darkening.

“Shut up! I did not!” I hiss, giving his shoulder a shove.

He only chuckles and waggles a brow at me, before placing a kiss to my forehead. He smells even better in the morning, his cedar scent more potent. How is that even possible?

“How did you sleep?”

He brushes my hair over my shoulder, peppering even more kisses across my collarbone. I shiver under his attention, my eyes falling closed again.

“Better than I have in a long time.” I admit, my voice still raspy with sleep.

“So did I.”

He runs gentle hands through my hair, our legs still entwined intimately. I haven’t felt this safe and content in someone’s arms since I was a girl, when my mom would hold me after I woke from nightmares about monsters under my bed. Azriel already feels like home, and the thought doesn’t scare me as badly as it did last night. Thoughts of my father seem distant and insignificant now, chased away by the bright morning light and warmth of my mate’s presence.

“I wish I could stay here with you all day, baby.” He groans, a deep sigh leaving him. I can feel his reluctance in how firmly he presses me to him, strong arms locking me against his chest.

“Then stay.” I grumble moodily, a frown curling my lips downwards. I know we can’t stay sequestered in his apartment forever, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.

“I have to do some work for my brother today, but you’re more than welcome to stay in my bed. In fact, I hope you do.” Azriel chuckles, untangling his limbs from mine and kneeling before me. He drops a tender, lingering kiss on my lips before standing.

My cheeks warm as my blood sings in my veins, and my breath catches in my chest. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way his touch affects me. I hope I never do.

“Oh? What kind of work do you do for him? Does he have his own shop or something?” I yawn my way through the question, cuddling myself into his vacated warm spot.

Azriel smiles over his shoulder at me, while sliding into Illyrian fighting leathers. My mouth goes dry at how the skin tight garment outlines his muscular thighs and powerful chest, accentuating the golden tones of his skin. Hubba Hubba.

“Actually, Rhysand is High Lord of the Night Court. I’m his Spymaster. I have spying to do.” His lips twitch as if he’s trying to not let the easy smile fall from his face as he continues dressing. He watches for my reaction intently.

The blood in my veins turns to ice, freezing my heart in place as my eyes shoot open in shock.

Azriel’s brother Rhys is... Rhysand. High Lord of the Night Court. All sleep leaves my body, and I have to fight to stay still. Every instinct is screaming at me to run, run far and fast.

Because Rhysand knows my father, seeing as he’s High Lord of the Autumn Court.

In fact, I know Beron has met Rhysand many times. He often spoke about the half breed bastard who challenged his authority at meetings.

I met Rhysand at Beron’s court once, when I was barely fifteen. It's been decades, but he could easily recognize me as Beron’s bastard daughter. And he could tell my father where I am, maybe even deliver me to him.

Even if he doesn’t recognize me, grown and changed as I am, Rhysand is a Daemati. He could rip the truth from my own mind with hardly a thought. And the High Lord of the Night Court has a reputation for finding pleasure in that sort of thing. The thought has me shivering despite the warm blankets tucked around me.

“Oh. You didn’t mention that last night.” I rasp, trying not to look like I’m about to throw up. My stomach roils, and my palms dampen with cold sweat.

“I forget that he's High Lord sometimes. He’s just Rhys to me.” Azriel shrugs, with his back now turned to me as he readies himself for the day. I thank the Cauldron for it.

I can only imagine the stark horror in my expression, and I take a few extra moments to reign my emotions in. Gods, no wonder Azriel can read me so effortlessly. It's not only because of the bond, he’s a spymaster. Reading people is his job. A job he performs for a mind stealing, murdering monster of a High Lord. Bile rises in my throat, and I feel my heart crack in my chest.

Azriel is not who I thought he was. The trustworthy, gentle male I spent the night with could just be another mask he wears. A tremble begins deep within me.

“When will you be back?” I try to sound eager, like I can’t wait for his return.

In reality, I’m trying to find out how far away I can get before he even realizes I’m gone.

“Tonight. I just need to visit some - colleagues in another court.” He says, while lacing his sturdy looking boots into place.

What court is he ‘visiting’? Will he be spying on other High Lords for Rhysand? Despite the new revelations about his dangerous brother, I feel a stab of fear for my mate. Any High Lord would slaughter him in a moment if they caught him spying on the Daemati’s behalf.

“Will you be safe?” I hear the worry in my own voice, and Azriel either hears it as well or can feel it from me. Damn mate bond.

The male perches on the bed next to me, a reassuring smile on his striking face. The two versions of him that exist in my head clash terribly; the vulnerable, kind Azriel of last night and the formidable Spymaster I’ve heard grave stories about. My gaze falls to the dark dagger strapped to his leg. Truth Teller. I try not to shiver as the light glints lethally off its razored edge. I wonder how many truths he’s tortured out of his enemies using it.

“Of course. Always, but especially now.” Azriel strokes stray curls out of my face, his eyes brimming with unabashed tenderness. He kisses me soundly, a promise to return.

My stomach flips and suddenly my heart is no longer racing out of fear. For a moment, I almost forget the hidden lethalness and only see Az. But that’s foolish. I can’t shiver at the sight of his famed blade and crave his touch at the same time.

“I’ll see you tonight?” I ask, mentally calculating how long I have to leave Velaris. I go through the well rehearsed steps of my escape plan, focusing on mundane details to keep the fear and longing from rendering me completely useless.

“Of course.” Shadows of worry cloud his eyes, and I can almost see the sharp, spy's mind calculating behind them.

Azriel kisses me once more, his lips hesitant for the very first time.

His mouth tastes like sorrow, and I feel a flicker of something down the bond. It's gone too quickly for me to decipher it. I curse internally, hoping he only thinks I’m intimidated by his brother’s position. Between the bond and his spymaster abilities, who knows what he can decipher from my reaction alone.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” He stands, tucking his wings in close and letting his shoulders droop slightly.

He searches my face, lips slightly turned down at the corners, brow furrowed.

“I’ll be here.” The lie burns my throat like acid, and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

Instead, I pretend to settle deeper into the bed, closing my eyes as I bring the blankets up to my chin. I don’t want to see the confusion and worry in his gaze. And I can’t watch him leave, knowing that I may never see him again. Azriel squeezes my thigh softly, whispering another farewell as he leaves the room with a sigh.

I wait until I no longer feel the thrumming current that is Azriel’s presence, when I know he’s well and truly gone. Then I spring into action. I burst from the bed, and head straight for Azriel’s dresser. I yank a pair of sweats from the drawer and pull them on hurriedly, shaking so hard it takes me three tries to get my legs through the correct hole. I practically run through the living room, propelled forwards by thoughts of obliterated minds and the dank cells beneath the Autumn Court.

I glimpse the forgotten mugs and pastry box from last night on the coffee table. Tears prick my eyes at the memory of the hope I felt during that meal. I told Azriel, my mate, more than I’ve shared with anyone in years. He let me see some of the anguish he carries with him, buried so deep it's become a part of him. I gave my body to him. And he felt like home. Can I really run from that?

Yes, I can. I have to. I was a fool to think that I could ever be outside my father’s reach.

On impulse, I hunt down a pen from the kitchen cabinets and scrawl a quick, cowardly note on a scrap of paper. Shame coats my tongue so thoroughly I think I may choke on it.

I’m sorry. - S

With the note finished, I raise the hood to conceal my face and tear down the stairs, avoiding the elevator Azriel first kissed me in. Soon enough, my bare feet are slapping against the rain slick pavement, my heart cracking with every step. I don’t stop to notice the people that watch me fly by, or the sun shining over the Sidra. I let the fear cloud every guilty thought, until all I know is adrenaline.

Once I reach my apartment, I change into clothes more appropriate for an escape attempt, and collect my emergency bag from beneath some loose floorboards. Not the most creative hiding spot, but it’s better than my underwear drawer.

Less than an hour later, I’m standing on the rickety, wooden deck of a foreign boat, sailing away from Velaris. Tradesmen man their vessel, hardly paying attention to me as I stare out over the water from their starboard side. I can imagine the mystery I pose. A lone, cloaked female, begging to stow away on their watercraft.

The money I slipped to their captain keeps the curious glances to a minimum, and I hope it keeps their mouths shut in the future. Either way, I won’t be settling where I first disembark. I’m not entirely sure where I’ll go yet, but maybe that’s for the best. If I’m entirely impulsive, my actions will be harder to predict.

I’ve run scared so many times over the years that I’ve lost count, but I’ve never been so conflicted. Every mile I put between me and the shore of the Sidra is another knife shoved up under my ribs, and it becomes harder and harder to breath. Eventually, the vibrant colors of the Rainbow fade from view and the citrus scent of the river becomes the salty brine of the ocean. Hot tears sting my eyes, and I let them fall. The hood of my cloak covers my face anyway.

“Goodbye, Az.”

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