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love-takes-work · 3 years

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Notes on SU Commentary Tracks

I watched the commentary tracks on the Complete Steven Universe DVD Set and I took some nerd notes.

The episodes with commentary tracks are “Reunited,” “Change Your Mind,” and “The Future.”

I’ll bold stuff that was maybe bigger news or more surprising for easier reading. And yes, some of this was already known from podcasts, other Q&As, or interviews, but I listed it if they said it again here.

Read on after the jump to read these and other highlights:

Steven’s original wedding speech

Older ideas on dialogue for Lapis when she came back to the beach

Scrapped concepts for the scene that ultimately included Steven communicating with the others in a mindscape

Discussions of earlier concepts for White Diamond having a power to “freeze” Gems into statues to make them perfect and having a gallery of them on Homeworld

Pink Pearl’s original fate

The translation of the writing on Obsidian’s sword

The origin of Pink Steven’s design

What Rebecca did to pitch the “SHE’S GONE” scene

Earlier plans to include Shep in “Change Your Mind”

An unused concept of how Steven feels about Biggs

The inspiration for the Heaven and Earth Beetles’ healed design

How Volleyball/Pink Pearl was almost a mini-villain

Discussion of how they did not get to share the origin of the Diamonds

Jasper’s scrapped participation in the movie

“Reunited” -

Commentary with Rebecca Sugar, Ben Levin, Matt Burnett, Hilary Florido, Joe Johnston, Ian Jones-Quartey, and Kat Morris.

In 2015, an episode idea called “If You Love Yourself So Much” was discussed but rejected. It included some early ideas that ended up getting incorporated into “Reunited,” most notably Garnet marrying herself and putting rings on both hands.

The idea of the Cluster arm wrestling was planned for a long time. A scrapped idea of Steven banging his fist on a vending machine to get some Chaaaaps was supposed to visually parallel some of that scene, but it was axed.

When they got pushback on the wedding idea, they kept adding more and more “high entertainment value” items like a big musical number so the episode would be absolutely unmissable and appealing to everyone.

The song at the beginning of the episode was meant to check in with the entire cast and sort of remind you they exist and what their state of mind is going into the wedding.

Ian made a comment joking about “All 15 people in Beach City” being in the audience.

Just about everyone on the Crew touched this episode, despite that there are four main storyboarders credited for “Reunited.”

In 2016 Ian Jones-Quartey proposed marriage to Rebecca Sugar. They felt like the characters based on them (Sapphire and Ruby) HAD to get married in the show now because otherwise it wouldn’t be honest. But then their characters got married before they did.

They really love the idea of having characters get married who have known each other for a really long time, versus the fairy tale trope of movies ending with weddings between people who have met very recently.

Steven’s speech as officiator at the wedding used to be longer in its first draft--it was described as being weird and full of jokes, and there would have been a scene with Pearl getting weepy and pulling tissues out of her pearl.

Ian mentions loving a joke Jeff came up with having Greg play one chord to make Steven fall asleep--it’s sort of a “dream” chord you hear in cartoons a lot before a dream sequence.

The Crew discussed what it might be like if someone had never seen the show before and started with this episode.

Ian really wanted Steven’s psychic powers to figure into the episode.

Blue using a sadness wave to attack the Gems was a very old idea they’d planned for a long time. So was Lapis’s arrival.

There was a discussion of having Lisa Hannigan performing her lines as Blue VERY early in the morning.

Ian was happy the sword got broken because it was so momentous but it was just a sword. And later appeared on a shelf in the house as an artifact.

Miki had drawn a torn dress for Garnet at one point so she could be shown fighting and moving around more accurately, and this led to a long discussion of whether Gem clothing can even actually get torn the way human clothes can. They concluded that no, it shouldn’t be torn, so they backed up and gave Garnet an open-front dress from the beginning so the fighting version would make more sense.

Lapis originally might have had a longer speech upon arriving back on the beach. They eventually decided to just have her say “Hey.”

The barn falling on Blue Diamond was an intentional Wizard of Oz reference.

They point out that Steven even once said “drop the barn on the beach” (in a previous episode, “Can’t Go Back,” which was also a Miki episode).

Destroying the house was a big deal, and they always thought they’d end up doing it but backed away from it until “Reunited.” They almost even did it back in “Coach Steven”! But it just ended up with a little damage to the porch.

The Crew thinks Miki is really good at drawing ensemble shots.

Rebecca was always overwhelmed whenever she got to have Patti LuPone record for Yellow.

Originally the giant figures of everyone’s statue bodies in the mindscape were too dark and had to be revamped so they could be seen.

An earlier idea of Steven’s “psychic-ghost-situation” had him as a ghost actually trying to interact with the other characters during fighting action, but it was pulled back to this mindscape so there wouldn’t be as much confusing action to keep track of and more focus on what Steven was doing to encourage his teammates and contact the Diamonds.

Hilary was glad not to have to block out a fight.

Ian mentions loving having Bismuth back in the group.

They originally wanted the “Diamonds sensing Pink’s energy” plot to happen when Steven was in the palace somehow, but everything got moved to this scene--which the Crew all agrees turned out incredible, like how cool it was to have Steven essentially reminding each character why they fight and summing up their whole arc in a sentence.

“Change Your Mind”

Commentary with Rebecca Sugar, Ben Levin, Matt Burnett, Hilary Florido, Joe Johnston, Ian Jones-Quartey, and Kat Morris.

They like to refer to this episode as “The movie before the movie.”

They loved incorporating “princess tropes” into Steven’s time on Homeworld, which is why there were so many references to “mice” (well, Pebbles) making clothes, being locked in a tower, being reminded of his manners, loving animals and freeing imprisoned pets, etc.

Deedee did the voice of the rainbow worm pet. She apparently didn’t find it memorable and was surprised when she was reminded she did the voice.

Rebecca was super excited for the confrontation with Blue.

There was some discussion of how Steven would have died of starvation if he didn’t have someone practical like Connie to remember to bring food.

They love working with the huge scale the Diamonds present.

The Crew always wanted to put someone in Blue’s hair loop. Originally they wanted Blue to tuck Greg in there when she kidnapped him, but they didn’t end up being able to do any hair-loop-carrying until this episode.

The Crew bantered back and forth about what the heck those Pebbles’ names were and how hard it was to track them.

They agreed that Paul draws the best Yellow Diamond, which makes sense since he also drew the first episode with Yellow (and her stink face).

The scene where Yellow asks Blue to stop using her powers on her and then realizing she’s crying on her own was one of Rebecca’s favorite scenes to get to finally.

Steven Sugar thought Gems would spend a lot of time in their own chambers/rooms just not really doing much of anything unless they had to fulfill their purpose.

Some of the Homeworld ideas were based on a Soviet artist’s concepts, Boris Artzybasheff, and also many ideas were inspired by Busby Berkeley regarding how people were objects and furniture.

The mech was an old idea. Once they had the hand ship from “Jailbreak,” they knew there had to be bodies somewhere.

They focused a lot about what could be the coolest and funniest way for something to happen. The concept of the yellow and blue spaceship arms appearing out of the sky to smack the White Diamond mech around was one of those.

Rebecca really wanted things to look more and more cartoony and bizarre as you get deeper into Homeworld.

They spent a very long time trying to decide on characters’ new outfits.

The trash can lid is said to be a reference to “a flying bear cartoon” and they dance around speaking a direct reference because they’re not sure they’re allowed to say its name.

In discussing the powers of the Diamonds, there were debates on what White’s power would be; with Yellow being physicality-based and Blue being emotion-based, they thought White as identity-based made the most sense.

Different ways to express this were played with before settling on the idea that she thinks she’s perfect and others’ colors make them less like her and less perfect. But then she becomes a hostage to her own beliefs about herself because if she does anything that reflects on everyone else, so it’s best to do nothing.

They had some cool earlier ideas of White’s powers making statues out of other Gems and having a gallery full of frozen Gems, frozen by White to make them perfect.

They also weren’t sure what fate befell the original Pink Pearl and discussed whether she might have been destroyed.

Rebecca discussed how creepy it was to have White Pearl speaking in Christine’s voice and not Deedee’s--that we should find it fundamentally disturbing at this point.

Tom Herpich came up with the crack on White Pearl’s face.

In real life, pink diamonds aren’t understood as well as yellows and blues. It’s more known what makes a diamond yellow or blue, and some of those facts Rebecca researched were originally woven into the speech White gave about their “impurities.” But it turned out to be too dry and most of it got cut.

Rebecca loves having Lapis with pants and sandals for easier cosplay.

Ian had to draw the scene where Steven is falling and fusing with inert characters--he wasn’t able to properly explain it to Rebecca so she had him draw it.

They really wanted Rainbow Quartz 2.0 to have a scarf, but they couldn’t figure out how to get that into Pearl’s design. They miss the scarf.

It was really important to have these Fusions display call-forwards of the Gems’ new outfits which we hadn’t yet seen.

Rebecca points out that Sunstone’s design breaks a design rule and she feels like Sunstone should have Garnet’s pant leg colors on their legs, but at the same time she understands the rule of cool and likes it like this.

It’s discussed how none of Steven’s fusion weapons are exclusively offensive weapons either.

Rebecca still really wants a suction cup Sunstone toy.

Sunstone’s ability to transcend reality and break the fourth wall was a joke that exploded in the discussion room among the Crew. As soon as the idea was pitched everyone kept coming up with ideas. Sardonyx’s fourth-wall-breaking is more snarky, but Sunstone’s is helpful.

Rebecca was disappointed that the rule about Steven’s clothes wasn’t always followed with having his clothes appear on Obsidian’s hand, but she was delighted that you could see them in one scene.

They spent a lot of discussion time on making sure Steven-Obsidian was different somehow from Rose-Obsidian. The hair is different.

Old versions of Obsidian were drawn with wrapped-together Twizzlers legs, which sort of is reflected in the present design.

The sword had been planned forever--and it first appeared in “Bubble Buddies.”

Miki worked on the Ninja Turtles show so Rebecca was really excited to see her depictions of Bismuth and Sunstone.

An early plan to have Obsidian draw the sword from their mouth was complicated because fusion weapons should be combinations, so they finally reached the solution of having them combine to make the hilt, then get the blade out of Obsidian’s mouth.

The blade of the sword is thought to say “We’ll always save the day,” but you’d have to ask Steven Sugar.

Another really old idea was climbing into the White Diamond mech eye.

Rebecca was disappointed that some of the merch made of White Diamond did not feature her cape sparkles.

There were many debates early on about where Rose might “actually” be. There were tons of references to this fundamental question throughout the show--introducing Lapis as a Gem trapped in an object, having Pearl ponder pulling Steven’s Gem out as a baby, straight-up wondering what would happen to him in “Bubbled” when Eyeball was trying to take his Gem, etc. They all decided Rose was definitely gone but that the idea of her possibly being inside him should be on his mind a lot, leading to disturbing images like dreaming about coughing up her hair.

Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond both challenged Steven about things he was very confident about, but White’s question of his identity got to him because he in fact is not confident about that.

The black and white eeriness of the fuzzy background and the other characters having their colors washed out helped make the scene in White Diamond’s head so disturbing and creepy.

The split screen showing Steven’s two perspectives was exciting to Rebecca, and was a pretty old idea. And she points out it sort of “breaks the show.”

The Gem Steven, Pink Steven, was represented by a slightly modified version of his model sheet. Everyone laughed when they saw what was getting used.

They decided that an earlier idea of Pink Steven looking angry should be replaced by an emotionless version of him. All the emotion should be with Organic Steven.

In the pitch meeting for this episode, Rebecca herself screamed “SHE’S GONE!!” and shocked the hell out of everyone. She pointed out how no one expected this of her because she’s pretty quiet, but she just wanted to shock everyone the way Steven would in the show.

They point out this is the first appearance of the geometric shield that got so much use in Future.

The fact that Steven is Steven is the ultimate reveal of the show. Usually in fantasy shows there’s some other kind of revelation, but Steven just being amazingly human and amazingly Gem and amazingly himself is wonderful here.

They like having the pilot reference with “What’s your excuse?”

If Rose had somehow still been alive in him, all of this would have been cheapened.

Ian loves that you can faintly hear Sadie’s concert from way out in space as the camera approaches Earth.

They got a lot more use out of the Beach-A-Palooza stage than they thought they would when it had to be designed for “Steven and the Stevens.” There was a joke about how at one of the conventions a real Beach-A-Palooza stage was constructed and they had a thought about how oh good, it’s getting reused.

Sadie having green hair in the finale was a late change but they liked showing her progression.

They had originally kicked around the idea of Sadie already having her new partner Shep at this point, but decided to develop that in Future instead.

They compare White Diamond’s stepping gingerly into the fountain to skeptically getting into a public pool.

Some silliness they didn’t get to use was that Biggs would be “beloved by everyone” except Steven. They never got to cover it, but originally Steven was just going to not really understand why everyone loves her so much and doesn’t personally much care for her.

The Heaven and Earth Beetles are based on the Mothra Ladies.

The healed Gems’ horns are supposed to be side effects of the corruption that they continue to bear in the present.

Larimar and Orange Spodumene ended up different in the ending scene than they became in Future. Many of the designs were retroactively pulled into this scene after being designed for the movie.

Rebecca wrote “Change Your Mind” as a personal song to express her feelings surrounding her fight for the wedding.

“The Future”

Commentary with Rebecca Sugar, Kat Morris, Alonso Ramirez Ramos, Hilary Florido, Joe Johnston, and Ian Jones-Quartey.

The animatic for this episode ran SO long--they’re supposed to be just over 11 minutes but this one was 17 minutes.

Steven’s calisthenics routine, a callback to “Future Vision,” was on the chopping block to make the episode shorter but Rebecca wouldn’t allow it to be cut because she wanted to show that Steven’s been taking care of himself.

They were very excited to get a chance to cover some of the things in Future that they couldn’t squeeze into the original show, like the unbubbled Rose Quartzes, Volleyball, etc.

The new writers on the show also helped bring forward the idea of Steven finally making some of his OWN mistakes to fix.

This also helped construct the idea of Steven essentially being the “final boss” of his own battle.

Usually stories that involve someone being in a fight and winning don’t explore the effect just being in a fight has on a person, regardless of whether you won.

Rebecca really wanted to play Ocarina of Time after beating it so she could go back to all the places and see how people were doing. She wanted this epilogue series to explore that a little too.

Little Homeschool is sort of a Tiny Toons reference--older cartoons teach younger cartoons how to be cartoons, and this is Gems teaching other Gems how to be Gems on Earth.

Lamar came up with the silly joke about receiving that art set with all the different media types in it--the one artists are always getting from a well-meaning relative at holiday time.

A scrapped plot idea involved Volleyball/Pink Pearl as a sort of “mini-villain,” with a focus on her activating the un-activated Pearls.

There’s discussion of how victimization turns people into villains sometimes. But since showing that happening with Volleyball wouldn’t have served the interests of Steven’s arc, they couldn’t fit it in.

There was also a “very specific” Gem origin and Diamond origin story that’s quasi-religious in nature--it’s very cool and complicated. But they do not tell us what it is.

Ian and Joe both really wanted to have Jasper living alone in the woods and stacking rocks. They’re glad they got this series to do that with her.

There was originally an idea for a B-plot involving Jasper in the movie. They don’t discuss the specifics.

There were many ideas they didn’t get to work on because they would have started new arcs and Future was not about kicking new plots into gear.

“Mr. Universe” was the last episode they wrote/finished.

Miki really wanted to include a kiss between Connie and Steven to show their relationship was okay. Among the Crew everyone knew their relationship was basically eternal but Miki wanted to make sure WE knew that.

Steven driving conveyed momentum for Future; in the original show, we always came back to the laundry hand, back to home, but in Future that’s changed and home isn’t what it was.

They were really excited that a gourd family made it to the crowd scene in Future.

Thanks for reading!

Note: The movie had some commentary tracks too, but the one on this DVD set is the same as the one released on the original standalone movie DVD, so I did not outline it here. Here is my post about the DVD commentary from the movie.

#steven universe #steven universe future #rebecca sugar #crewniverse #my su analysis #myblog

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qianinterprises · 3 years

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Warm Mornings

Pairing | Jeno x Reader x Jaemin

Warning(s) | slightly suggestive (if you squint), polyamorous relationship

Synopsis | Just an everyday morning in the life of you, snuggled between the loves of your life.

Author’s Notes | I wrote this after reading this by @bluejaem. After getting permission (in the form of a brain dumped imagine lol), I decided to write my own little NoMin poly! I would also like to add that I started over three damn times before I was finally happy with it, but it has not been beta read so... expect grammatical errors (Im sorry!)

Work Count | 1.9K

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

As morning bloomed over the city, pulling individuals out of their dreams to dawn a new day, you rolled over under the blankets, careful not to disturb the arms wrapped around your waist in your quest for comfort. As you settled on your side, facing the eastern window, your eyes cracked open, sleep already leaving you for awakeness.

Sunlight beamed into the window, casting hues of gold along the walls, creating patterns and designs of light around the room. One beam of sun in particular hit the back of the man to your left, light bouncing off his bare skin and illuminating his body in such a way he appeared to almost be glowing. Golden rays bounced off his dyed brown hair, creating such an heir of elegant innocence around him.

The bed ruffled and the body behind you wiggled until one of the arms around your waist was pulling you back against a broad chest, face nestling in your neck, blowing soft tufts of air across your sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Good morning,” his voice was deep and raspy, husky with sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, quiet so as not to wake the male in front of you.

“Is he glowing?”

A smile falls across your face, eyes roving over the porcelain face of Na Jaemin, deep in the confines of sleep, eyes fluttering lightly with dreams, hair a mess atop his head.

“Like an angel,” you whispered.

The arms around your waist seemed to tighten even more as he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

“Our angel.”

You placed your hands lightly over his, stroking along his skin, tracing the bulging veins that came with being a well-built muscular man with a love for exercise.

“Are you two talking about me again?”

Jaemin’s voice brought a yelp from your throat and your body lurched backwards in shock, unfortunately sending your foot into a not so friendly place for the man behind you.

The arms released your body completely as said male let out a slow whine, hands moving down to cup himself, coaxing the organ to stop spiking with the pain your foot had left.

You rolled over, careful of your limbs this time to check that the male was alright.

Lee Jeno. A tall, lanky but muscular man that had stolen your heart the first time your eyes met. His face was contorted in pain, eyes squeezed shut to keep in the tears that surely weren’t far from falling.

“I am so sorry!” you breathed, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched at your touch.

“Give him a moment. Let him catch his bearings.”

Jaemin’s voice wasn’t half so husky now as he wound his arms around his waist and pulled you back, careful of your feet as you curled your legs again comfortably.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been pretending to be asleep!” you hissed.

“Oh I wasn’t pretending. You two just aren’t as quiet as you think you are.”

You turned your head to send a glare at him when a puff of air left Jeno’s lips and his body uncurled itself. His eyes opened, glassy, and he blinked a few times to rid the tears that threatened to fall.

“Next time you jump in fear, try to make sure your not curled up first!”

Jaemin snorted and you shook your hide, sliding out of Jaemin’s arms and closer to Jeno, who engulfed you in a bear hug, pressing your face against his shoulder.

“No fair! He got cuddles already! I haven’t got my cuddles yet!” Jaemin’s voice whined behind you.

“I just got kicked in the balls! I think I deserve a few extra cuddles!” Jeno insisted.

You rolled your eyes and pulled away from Jeno slightly. He let out a small, puppy whine, hands clinging to your waist as Jaemin cackled behind you, making a grab to pull you away. He let out his own yelp when you slapped one of his hands away and instead, grabbed his arm, tugging him closer until his chest was pressed against your back.

“You can both cuddle me,” you mumbled, nuzzling your face into Jeno’s neck as Jaemin’s arms slowly wrapped themselves around your body.

Your eyes began to droop as two warm bodies help you snuggly between them, hands softly stroking your back or your arms, lulling you back into your dreams, breathing in Jeno’s scent of earthy body wash, content at the way Jaemin’s lips pressed butterfly kisses along your neck.

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

When you opened your eyes for the second time, you noted the lack of arms around you and the rhythmic heartbeat against your ear.

You let out a soft yawn, shuffling closer to the chest, immediately recognizing it as Jeno’s. You wound your arms around his waist, holding onto him like an overstuffed teddy bear.

He had his phone in his hand, playing some weird alien-killing game, his other hand lazily drawing patterns beneath your shirt against your back.

“Where’s Jaemin?” you asked with a small yawn, nuzzling closer.

“In the kitchen.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he didn’t glance up from the game as another green alien blob appeared on screen.

“I’m going to go see if he needs any help.”

You moved to get up, but the hand down your shirt quickly pulled out and wound itself around your waist, preventing you from moving.

“I’m under strict orders not to let you out of this bed.”

You rolled your eyes but complied, happy to rest your head against Jeno’s bare chest, but his abs were only so interesting.

“Can you hand me my phone?”

Dating two was a lot different than dating just one. You had to make compromises and things didn’t always work out flawlessly. For example, sleeping arrangements.

After dating for a while, the three of you had decided to get an apartment together rather than living in two separate apartments (because Jeno and Jaemin already lived together). It made sense, especially with their differing jobs and never having time to go on dates as a trio. When you’d first bought the apartment, you’d taken your queen sized bed from your old one, but that quickly ended in disaster, either Jaemin or Jeno ending up on the floor in the middle of the night after being kicked out of bed from a restless sleeper.

After finding one or both men snuggled up uncomfortably on the couch because the bed just wasn’t big enough for the three of you, you’d pooled your money and bought a larger, King sized bed. However, while this kept you all in bed without bruises, it also meant you were stuck under two blankets between two boys, both of which radiated heat like a space heater.

You’d find yourself waking up in the middle of the night, their arms wrapped around you, your shirt sticking to your back in sweat, which should have been an easy enough solution, just kick the blankets off. Problem was, when you did, you either squirmed so much it woke one or both of them up, or you ended up warm and toasty between two shivering boys. That was an issue solved with a ceiling fan, though it wasn’t perfect.

The newest issue, however, was always needing assistance to reach something. Rather than sleeping on a side with a night stand, you were constantly shaking them awake to ask for a sip of water from the nightstand or crawling over one of them to use the restroom. A solution to this problem didn’t seem so simple as the others. However, despite waking them up countless times in the middle of the night, they never complained. In fact, they almost seemed happy to do it, even when Jaemin was sluggishly pulling himself out of bed at 5am for work after a rough night.

Unwinding his arm from around your waist, Jeno reached for your phone on the nightstand, unplugging it, and placing it in your hands, wrapping his arm back around your waist and going back to his game.

Pressing a kiss to his chest in thanks, you unlocked your phone, smiling at the photo of the three of you at the beach, begrudgingly taken by Donghyuck who’d gotten roped into third-wheeling when Renjun had bailed at the last minute.

You opened your Tumblr account, shifting to hide your screen from curious eyes and you pulled up your initial feed, hearting posts and reblogging memes until you came upon a fic from your favorite blog <your favorite blog> featuring South Korean heartthrob, Jung Jaehyun.

Biting down on your lower lip, you took another glance at Jeno before letting your eyes scan greedily over the words, drinking them in. It wasn’t long before you were fully absorbed in the story that you didn’t realize Jaemin was calling your name until the phone was snatched out of your hands.

“Geez! You’d think you’d gone deaf!” Jaemin exclaimed.

You felt your cheeks heat up, nose twitching in embarrassment as you carooned into Jeno’s chest.

“What in the-”

Jeno cut himself off. You glanced up at him, curious as to what had shocked him, only for your eyes to widen when you found him gaping at your screen.

“What kind of filth-!”

“It’s called smut! And it’s not for you!” you cried, reaching for the phone, only to have it raised higher, out of your reach.

You huffed.

“When did you start reading that stuff?!” Jaemin gaped.

“Probably around the same time Jeno put that virus on your laptop!”

“Hey!”

“So you’re the culprit! I had to explain to my older brother why I had a virus from an adult site I’d never watched before!” Jaemin exclaimed.

He jumped on the bed, grabbed his pillow, and hit Jeno over the head with it, hitting you at the same time.

“Ouch!” you whined. “Stop it!”

Jaemin huffed and flopped down on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jeno placed your phone back on the table and all was quiet until you turned to look at Jaemin.

“What were you calling me for anyways?”

He stared at you in confusion for a moment before perking up.

“Oh! Do you want orange juice or coffee?”

“Um… coffee duh! We started dating two years ago, right? Not yesterday?”

“I was just making sure!” he grumbled, crawling out of bed and stomping back to the kitchen.

When he was gone, Jeno leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I still want to know why you were reading filth about that idol…”

“Just forget it Jeno. You wouldn’t understand,” you groaned.

Not even a minute later, Jaemin was walking back into the room carefully balancing three trays in his arms. Jeno reached out to grab his own. Jaemin placed your tray over your lap and slid back under the blankets on your left. You sat up in bed and leaned close to press a kiss to the males cheek, only for him to turn at the last minute, capturing your lips.

He brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek softly, drawing you closer as his tongue brushed over your bottom lip before pulling away, placing a lasting peck on your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You nuzzled yourself closer, careful not to disturb the tray of food on your lap.

“I love you more,” Jeno, clearly dissatisfied with his lack of attention, stated moving up behind you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You let out a breathy laugh, wrapped one arm around Jaemin’s neck, the other around Jeno’s.

“I love you both the most.”

#ficscafe #nct nomin #jaemin x reader #jeno x reader #nct fluff #poly relationship #Soft #love

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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becomewings · 3 years

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BTS Universe Timeline

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TIMELINE GUIDE

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers from all BU media

Revisions and additions will be made as necessary, so please visit the original post for the most up-to-date version (update log is included at bottom of post)

All names are provided as fully as known

Bracketed dates are inferred or calculated from references in the text

While the timeline is presented here as objectively as possible, I acknowledge that there is a level of subjectivity in choosing which information is significant enough for inclusion and in certain connections drawn between entries

Please inform me of any suspected errors; I will investigate and correct them

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

School Years: Together & Apart

- March Year 19 through 10 April Year 22 -

2 March Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Ten days after returning from the U.S., SeokJin and his father visit the principal’s office at his new school. SeokJin learns that he will start one grade lower due to the different education systems. SeokJin’s father grips his shoulder while the principal explains that school is a “dangerous place” that needs to be “tightly controlled.” He asks: “You know you have to keep me informed, right? You’ll be a good student, right?” SeokJin squeezes out a “yes” and his father lets go. Both ChangJun and the principal laugh. SeokJin looks down at their shining shoes, wondering from where the light is coming.

Note: SeokJin’s 25 June Year 19 entry in Notes 1 specifies that his father attended the same high school. JiMin’s 23 July Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals that, according to a comment he finds on an online news article, ChangJun and the principal were in school at the same time and fought with each other “as if it would only end when one of them dropped dead,” but they appeared to get along later due to politics.

3 March Year 19 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.1

On the first day of school at Songju Jeil High School, the Dean of Students berates the six latecomers lined up outside: SeokJin, NamJoon, HoSeok, JiMin, TaeHyung, and JungKook. YoonGi arrives even later. The Dean assigns them one month of community service as punishment. When he notices SeokJin, he clears his throat and says he is letting them off because it’s the first day: they must all assemble after classes to clean the annex, a classroom turned into a storage room. This room becomes their meeting place and hideout even after their punishment is finished.

Note: Their punishment for being late is referenced in JiMin’s 12 March Year 19 entry in Notes 1, when he escapes to the old classroom again and finds the others already there. He observes that it feels as though they’ve been “hanging out together forever.” The punishment scene is also similar to a moment in the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR. Although it includes a few extra students and cannot be confirmed as BU content, it does mirror the canonical detail of YoonGi arriving last.

28 May Year 19 Notes: Answer

In the classroom hideout, JungKook asks everyone what their dreams are because he has to write a paper about future hopes. SeokJin wants to become a good person, and YoonGi says it’s okay to have no dream. TaeHyung poses on a chair and says he’s going to be a superhero. HoSeok scolds him and adds that he wants to find his mom and live happily. JiMin asks him if he is unhappy now, and HoSeok pulls an exaggeratedly worried expression. “Is that how it works?” JiMin is flustered when HoSeok asks what his dream is and remembers that when he was in preschool he wanted to be president, but didn’t know what he wanted after that. Everyone looks at NamJoon, who shrugs and confesses that while he wants to say something nice, he doesn’t have a dream either and just wishes that his part-time job pays more. JungKook looks down at his assignment, divided into sections for “student” and “parent,” and wonders what he hopes to become. He can’t think of anything to write.

12 June Year 19 — The Sea Notes 1

YoonGi’s entry:

All seven boys cut school and decide to go to the sea. They have little money between them, so they must walk to the train station. As they leave, YoonGi almost bumps into JiMin and realizes that he is standing frozen with a trembling face. JiMin stares at a sign that reads “2.1km to Grass Flower Arboretum.” YoonGi flatly tells him that it’s too hot to go to the arboretum. He has an “instinctive feeling�� that they should avoid it. He observes that JiMin walks away like a little kid, head bent and shoulders hunched.

JungKook’s entry:

The boys arrive at the beach. They hang around under a torn parasol until HoSeok holds up a discovery on his phone: a large rock that is supposed to grant your dream if you stand atop it and shout your dream out to the sea. TaeHyung encourages them to go. While they grumble in the heat on the long trek, JungKook reflects on how he had recently asked the others what their dreams were. (See 28 May Year 19.) None of them really have a dream to pursue.

YoonGi tells JungKook to stop biting his nails or else they’ll become like his. Then he asks JungKook what his dream is. Having never thought about it, JungKook doesn’t know. He hesitates and then asks what a dream is. HoSeok rattles off a few definitions from his phone. YoonGi questions, “How can something that you want to achieve most in your life and something that is unlikely to come true both be called a dream? … Don’t ever try to have a dream.” JungKook asks why. At his glance, YoonGi stops biting his nails and puts his hands in his pockets. “Because it’s tough having one.” JungKook is curious about why YoonGi bites his nails but doesn’t ask. He recalls that it has been a habit since his childhood to hurt himself. He remembers cutting his finger on a knife badly enough that his mom took him to the hospital, but she didn’t take care of him after they went home. His wound healed slowly because he kept pressing it; the pain helped him feel awake. Even now, he sometimes feels hollow.

TaeHyung asks how much longer they have to walk. HoSeok is puzzled, saying they should be close. They gaze around the empty, pebbled beach. JiMin sighs and reads aloud from an article on his phone. A resort will be built on this beach, and the construction company blew up the rock. They notice the cordoned off construction zone. They try to reassure each other to remain positive, but they all feel the disappointment of walking all that way for nothing. JungKook notices YoonGi biting his nails again and tries to stop him, but he is interrupted by a loud drilling noise. JungKook looks past him at the sea and all that remains of the dream-granting rock, the pebbles under their feet. “Is the world tough for you, too?” he asks, but YoonGi can’t hear him. JungKook screams again. “Do you want to give up on this world, too?” HoSeok and TaeHyung laugh at their mimed conversation. They all look out to the sea and shout their dreams. The drilling is so loud that they can’t hear each other. JungKook cannot even hear his own dream. When the noise stops, they cut off abruptly and laugh. SeokJin suggests that they take a photo. He sets the timer and runs to join their row, the sea behind them. They walk back to the train station. JungKook asks if he can keep the photo. SeokJin writes “June 12” on the back and gives it to him, telling him that his dream will come true. JungKook asks if SeokJin knows what he shouted to the sea, and SeokJin merely taps his shoulder and strides ahead.

BTS Universe Story : The Boy on the Threshold, ep.3

JungKook’s memory of the beach trip follows a similar structure to the scene in Notes 1, plus a notable addition. After they fail to find the dream-granting boulder, JungKook climbs up on the pier railing. He thinks: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Someone grabs his arm while he precariously balances. YoonGi tells him not to do that, and JungKook assures him that he won’t fall.

“YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

25 June Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Alone in the classroom hideout, SeokJin finds a plant by the window. He takes pictures with his phone but doesn’t think they capture what the human eye sees. He notices that “HoSeok’s plant” is scribbled on the floor beneath the pot and then realizes that the window sills, walls, and ceiling are covered with graffiti and drawings, messages left behind by the students who once passed through that room. He wonders if there were past teachers who used violence and endless tests or students like him who ratted out their friends to the principal. Since his father also attended that high school, SeokJin looks for his name on the walls and finds it with a phrase written underneath: “Everything started from here.”

Note: TaeHyung, JiMin, NamJoon, and YoonGi discover several other familiar names near Kim ChangJun (SeokJin’s father) on the classroom wall in TaeHyung’s 23 July Year 22 entry from 7’s album Notes and the extended version in Notes 2.

30 August Year 19 Notes: Her

JiMin plays in HoSeok’s shadow while he is on the phone, reflecting on how HoSeok has accompanied him on the two-hour walk home since the beginning of the school semester. JiMin eventually realized that HoSeok didn’t live in the same direction but never questioned him, simply hoping that their time walking together would stretch the day out a little longer. HoSeok finishes on the phone and chases after him while the cicadas sing and their ice creams melt. Suddenly, JiMin is afraid, wondering how many of these days are left.

20 March Year 20 Notes 1 (TH)

TaeHyung sneaks up on NamJoon in the hallway by their classroom hideout. He stops when he hears SeokJin’s voice inside, apparently informing the principal about how TaeHyung and YoonGi had ditched school and got in a fight over the past few days. SeokJin throws open the door, phone in hand, and looks flustered to see NamJoon standing there. TaeHyung hides in a corner and is shocked to hear NamJoon assure him, “It’s OK. There must’ve been a good reason.” HoSeok and JiMin find TaeHyung in the hallway, and HoSeok pulls him into the classroom. NamJoon beams at TaeHyung as though nothing strange has happened. Believing that NamJoon “must have his reasons” because he is more intelligent and mature, TaeHyung decides not to tell anyone about the conversation he overheard.

15 May Year 20 Notes 1 (NJ)

NamJoon visits the classroom hideout on his last day of school. Two weeks prior, his family decided that they needed to move due to complications with his father’s health and their overdue rent. NamJoon tries to write a message on a piece of paper. He scribbles “I must survive” before the pencil lead snaps. He crumples the paper and writes in the dust on the window instead.

“No farewell message would be enough to let the others know how I felt. At the same time, no farewell message was needed to make myself understood. ‘See you again.’ It was a wish, rather than a promise.”

Note: “I must survive” is a recurring message tied to NamJoon in the BU MVs. See also 17 December Year 21.

7 June Year 20 Notes: Persona

TaeHyung’s two month old puppy Dubu slips out of the leash and disappears while he is distracted on his phone. TaeHyung runs around the neighborhood looking for him, first angry at the puppy and then blaming himself. When Dubu returns on his own, TaeHyung is filled with the unfamiliar feeling that he is someone who can be relied on.

11 June Year 20 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.5 Everyone’s Place

In the classroom hideout, JungKook listens to YoonGi playing the piano. The sound of the music makes him feel as if YoonGi understands how he feels and is trying to console him. The Dean of Students forces the door open, demanding why they are there. He berates and slaps JungKook, knocking him to the floor. YoonGi steps between them and shoves the teacher’s shoulder. The dean warns him that he had better be prepared for the consequences of putting his hands on a teacher and then leaves. Despite his throbbing cheek, JungKook smiles because it is the first time someone has protected him, and the feeling of getting closer to YoonGi makes him giddy. For the next two weeks, YoonGi does not come to school.

25 June Year 20 Notes 1

JungKook’s entry:

JungKook tries to play the piano in the classroom hideout, unable to make it sound like YoonGi did. He reflects on the rumor that YoonGi was expelled after the events of 11 June and wonders if YoonGi would still be here playing the piano if JungKook had not been there that day when the teacher appeared.

YoonGi’s entry:

Breathing hard, YoonGi arrives at his bedroom, removes a half-burned piano key from an envelope in his desk drawer, and throws it into the trash can. He remembers a day four years ago when he returned to their burned down home and found a skeleton of the piano where his mother’s room used to stand. He noticed several piano keys on the ground and took one of them, wondering what note it was and how many times her fingers touched it. In the present, YoonGi thinks how unbearable living under his father’s rule is and recalls what happened that day: he is officially expelled from school. He picks up the piano key again and hurls it out the window.

“I couldn’t hear the piano key hit the ground. Now I’d never know what note it made. It’d never make a sound again. I’d never play the piano again.”

17 July Year 20 Notes 1 (SJ)

At the end of the last school day before summer vacation, SeokJin tries to leave quickly but is hailed by HoSeok and JiMin. No one knows that he was pressured by the principal and revealed their hideout, which led to JungKook and YoonGi being discovered (11 June) and the latter’s expulsion (25 June). HoSeok wishes SeokJin a good vacation and to keep in touch, but he can’t reply.

“My first day at this school crossed my mind as I passed through the school gate. We were all late and got punished. But we were together, so we could laugh together. I had ruined all those memories we shared.”

Note: Variations of the sentiment “we can laugh when we’re together” recur throughout BU.

15 September Year 20 Notes 1 (HS)

In the hospital emergency room, HoSeok wants to explain how JiMin had a seizure at the bus stop to his mother, Sim SeonMi. When the doctors wheel JiMin’s bed out, HoSeok begins to follow until SeonMi thanks him and touches his shoulder. He feels like she has drawn a line between them that he cannot cross. He falls to the floor, and when he looks up, JiMin’s bed is gone.

Note: The name of JiMin’s mother is specified in his BTS Universe Story arc, Stopped Time. JiMin’s 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1 reflects that he blacked out at the bus stop after seeing the window of the Grass Flower Arboretum shuttle bus open. His 12 August Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals the real cause of JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop: he sees the boy that he left behind at the arboretum warehouse on 6 April Year 11. Though the boy’s empty eyes no longer speak to JiMin, this chance encounter awakens his memories of that day.

28 September Year 20 Notes: Her and Smeraldo Books Twitter

JiMin, heavily medicated, has lost track of how long he has been back in the hospital. But he considers this a special day because he lies to the doctor for the first time about not remembering anything.

Note: He is lying about not remembering what triggered his seizure at the bus stop on 15 September and/or what happened at the Grass Flower Arboretum when he was a kid (see Notes 2 comments above). This lie is also referenced in his 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1.

30 September Year 20 Notes 1 (JK)

A teacher hits JungKook with an attendance book when he refuses to admit that he still visits the classroom hideout, reminding him of when YoonGi was beaten. Later, JungKook stands outside the room and imagines that the others are waiting for him on the other side. He opens the door to only find HoSeok, clearing out what remains of their belongings. HoSeok walks him out, and JungKook realizes that those days are gone and will never come again.

25 February Year 21 Notes: Her (HS)

HoSeok watches himself dance in the mirror. He has danced since he was around twelve and discovered an ecstasy that came from inside himself. Outside of the mirror, HoSeok is a person who collapses everywhere and takes medicine he doesn’t need, who smiles even when he hates it and isn’t happy. But when he dances, he truly becomes himself, casting away all that weighs him down and feeling that he can become happy.

2 May Year 21 Notes: Persona (JK)

Biking along the Yangjicheon riverbank, JungKook thinks about how his friends left him one by one and that no one at home or in the world smiles at him anymore. He stops in the shadows under a bridge. Nobody comes to this kind of ruined place, and maybe that is the reason no one comes to him either. He feels most comfortable alone in the complete darkness where no one will look for him and wants the moment to never end.

9 August Year 21 Notes: Persona (SJ)

SeokJin walks along a Los Angeles beach and photographs the ocean. It has been a year since he fled Songju and moved to his mother’s family’s home, where he grew up as a child. He doesn’t photograph people anymore and didn’t bring any photos from high school with him, afraid to remember who he was at that time or to wonder about how his friends are doing and whether they still think of him.

17 December Year 21 Notes 1 (NJ)

This lengthy entry details events that transpired since the autumn of Year 20 when NamJoon’s family moved to the village, framed by moments on 17 December itself as NamJoon leaves on his own. His family chooses this village because it has a nearby hospital for his ailing father and employers who will hire someone without a high school diploma. NamJoon serves as a delivery boy for an eatery, competing for work with the other local boys. They grow a strange sense of solidarity, and he privately dubs one of them “TaeHyung,” even though the boy’s discontent, outward behavior is more akin to YoonGi’s. (Quotation marks added to the name here for clarity.) Competition slackens when snow falls in winter. NamJoon and “TaeHyung” are the only ones poor enough to risk the road up to the mountain town’s rest area when orders are phoned to the village below. On an afternoon forecast to have heavy snowfall, the restaurant owner dismisses “TaeHyung” due to his bruised face and gives the deliveries to NamJoon. The old delivery scooter fishtails on NamJoon’s third trip down the mountain, throwing him off. More anxious about the scratched scooter than his cut ankle and aching body, NamJoon finally gets it to restart and returns to the eatery. “TaeHyung,” who has been hanging around this whole time, approaches and asks for a favor. Before he can answer, NamJoon receives a call from his mother relaying that his father went outside alone and fell, requiring a trip to the hospital. NamJoon understands that his father was only trying to keep his dignity but is still frustrated because he can’t earn any more much-needed money this day. He hands “TaeHyung” the keys and leaves to take his father to the hospital.

The next day, NamJoon learns that “TaeHyung” was in a fatal accident during one of the deliveries up the mountain. The police officer blames him for being a poor driver and not wearing a helmet. NamJoon does not speak up that he has never seen the helmet the owner now has placed out on the counter. He visits the scene of the accident, thinking that the white outline on the road could be his if he was the one to make the next delivery—just as it could be his family mourning in the village instead of “TaeHyung’s” mother. On a later trip carrying his father home from the bus stop, NamJoon pretends not to hear his father’s frail voice over the noise of barking dogs. A week after that, NamJoon is making steady deliveries up the mountain. During what is ultimately his last delivery, he speaks with a stranger at the rest area, who cautions him to take care. “Do you know what’s really dangerous? Calcium chloride and wet leaves, not the snow itself,” the stranger blurts as NamJoon departs. NamJoon drives carefully back, not looking at the scene of the accident. This is not out of safety, as he tries to convince himself, but guilt: guilt for surviving, for his relief of being the one alive, for not defending “TaeHyung’s” driving skills. He also wonders if he is “a hypocrite pretending to have a guilty conscience.” Because he scattered wet leaves and sprinkled calcium chloride to prevent the road from icing over where he fell that afternoon, believing that he would be making the next delivery. If he did not do both those things, would “TaeHyung” be alive?

Mind and body numb, NamJoon makes it home from the delivery detached from the world around him. The barking dogs snap him out of the daze, and he remembers his father’s words that he pretended not to hear and dwelled on daily despite trying not to think about them: “Go, NamJoon. You must survive.” The next morning (17 December), NamJoon sneaks away to the bus stop. He is running away from his family’s misfortunes, from his own resignation to his fate, from poverty. The bus is scheduled to arrive in Songju in a few hours—the city he left with no notice and is returning to once more with the same. NamJoon wonders if his old friends still live there and how they are doing. On the frosted window, he writes with his finger: “I must survive.”

Note: The village boy’s real name is JongHun according to NamJoon’s 12 June Year 22 entry in Notes 2, which also reveals that he visited JongHun’s home to give his condolences before he left town.

1 February Year 22 Notes: 7 (SJ)

Summoned by his father without explanation, SeokJin flies back to Korea from Los Angeles. Although he has addresses in both LA and Songju, neither place feels like his home.

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Posted May 5, 2021

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passable-talent · 4 years

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i love your works! could i request a zuko x reader scenario where the reader and zuko first meet at the northern water village (reader saves zuko from drowning during that full/blood moon) and sees zuko again when he joins the gaang? they’re training and the reader heals a cut on his face and they kiss👀? thank you!

oooooo I haven’t gotten a water bending reader request yet 👀 this’ll be fun

also thank you! I’m definitely enjoying myself

When you saved Prince Zuko’s life, you’d had no idea who he was.

Okay, to clarify, you did know he was a firebender. That much was obvious, from the fact that he was under the ice of the northern water tribe, melting his way through it.

You’d been wandering down toward one of your favorite hideaways, a little platform closer to the water’s surface that doubled as a pipe’s drainage point. You’d been sitting there, legs dangling so that you feet almost touched the water, when you heard a thump behind you. You turned, and saw nothing, and so ignored it. But a moment later you heard sizzling, and turned to see red-hot hands pressed up against the thick ice.

At that moment, it didn’t matter that he was a firebender. It mattered that he was trapped under the ice.

You shot to your feet and skidded to your knees over top of him, just as you watched his hands detach from the surface of the ice. He’d lost his air- and was sinking downward.

Immediately you split the ice open and used water bending to create a current upwards, spitting out enough of his torso that you could drag him from the water. He was lucky, and hadn’t yet taken a lungful of water, and so when you dropped him on his back he took a big, gasping breath.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, concern in your eyes for a moment before you asked something else. “What in Tui’s name were you doing under the ice?” You demanded, honest concern for the safety of this clearly insanely brave individual in your tone. But he looked up at you with a cold expression, and you sat back with a sigh as realization clutched your heart.

He was a firebender. The city was under siege. There were likely soldiers like him everywhere, crawling in like elephant rats through any holes they could find.

“Oh. Right.” You looked over his shoulder and with a hand motion, resealed the hole you’d pulled him from. He made no attempt to move, and made a few puffs of flame to try to warm up.

“You don’t look like a soldier,” you told him, and his fire began to turn from the cooler red flame to the hotter orange.

“I’m not,” he answered, which soothed your fears a slight bit. The night was eerily silent, but the movement of the water at the mouth of the pipe echoed through its length and past the two of you. There was an odd sense of peace- a firebender and a water bender, at a truce, within a pipe. His nation was laying siege to your capital city, but you wouldn’t hold that against him. Forgiveness, and unconditional love. That’s what you loved about your people, and you would let it guide you. You wouldn’t let someone drown- not even a fire bender.

You only hoped that you wouldn’t discover that he killed Princess Yue or something, you decided, as you watched him sneak off into the streets of the city. But you had faith in him. After all, he could’ve killed you.

When three months later you were a part of Team Avatar, you still hadn’t known that the boy you saved was indeed Prince Zuko. You’d joined Team Avatar late, only for the eclipse invasion, and so had only heard tales of the angry banished prince who caused so much harm. The two were definitely not the same person, it hadn’t ever even occurred to you that they could be.

So when Zuko turned up at the Western Air Temple, your first response was unbridled joy.

“It’s you!” You’d shouted before he could say a word, and rushed forward to hug him even as he stood stalk still in surprise. You turned back to Aang with a huge smile, relieved with this turn of events.

“Guys, this is perfect! He’s a firebender, but he’s good. I met him back at the Northern Water tribe, on the day of the lunar eclipse. He’s good, he’s-“ you turned to Zuko, a sheepish look of embarrassment on your face.

“I’m sorry, I never knew your name,” you said, before Katara spoke from behind you.

“That’s Zuko,” she spat, and your shoulders dropped. “Y/N, step away from him. I don’t know what you know, but he’s not what you think.”

You found it easier to accept him then a lot of the gang did. You had only ever seen the good side of him, and even though you’d heard of the bad, you just remembered that shivering teenager you’d rescued and the honest thankfulness in his eyes when he saw you.

You saw the relief on his face every time you sent him a smile, because you wanted him to know that you were supportive of his change of heart. He began to gravitate toward you, knowing that conversation with you wouldn’t feel awkward or forced.

You’d seen the good in him, and now you were sure of it.

When he wasn’t training Aang, he’d gotten into the habit of sparring with you. Hand to hand combat, without bending, had been a focus of yours ever since the lunar eclipse back at the North Pole, and even moreso after the Day of Black Sun. Both eclipses made you realize that it was easier than you expected for a bender to lose their ability, and illustrated just how much your fighting relied on your bending.

So the two of you started sparring together. You’d learned how to convert some of your waterbending into close quarter combat, and he began to do the same with his firebending. It made you better fighters, benders, and made you a better team.

Sometimes, though, it got a little rough.

On the beach in front of the Fire Lord’s vacation home on Ember Island, you both stood with bare feet in the sand. He’d taken off his shirt, and you any layer you could spare, as the physical activity warmed you both up. The sun was setting, turning the sea all sorts of blood red, and Katara was in the process of making up dinner, which was why the two of you were free to do this. You were both standing with your fists up, tense and ready for the other to make the first move.

As soon as you did, he ducked his torso out of the way and attempted to jut his fist into your sternum, which you caught with your wrist and shoved it downward. Your opposite hand made use of the opening left by his fist and you tried to get a jab into his chest, but he blocked it out to the side, opening up your torso for a kick that thrusted you backward. You stumbled but got your balanace, giving him a soft, playful snarl before rushing back toward him with a flurry of hand movements that he skillfully blocked. You grew frustrated and, without thinking, slashed with your left hand, palm up and open, away from your chest. It sent water up and to his face, centralized into a small enough stream that it gave him a shallow cut along his left cheek.

The sparring match stopped dead as you covered your mouth with your hands.

“Oh spirits I’m so sorry,” you said, one hand gently reaching out to cup his face. “I’m going to heal it, it’ll be fine, you won’t even notice. I’m so sorry.” With a light laugh he wrapped his hands around your wrist, his eyes locked on to you.

“It’s fine, I’m okay,” he said, and yet still you felt horrible.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear,” you said, your right hand drawing water from the ocean and quickly you purified it by letting the salt fall out. Your left hand pulled from his cheek for just long enough to cover it in water, and slowly you pressed your hand back onto the cut. You didn’t quite touch his skin, but let the water soak onto his face, and though you focused on making the water glow with healing, you vaguely noticed that he’d closed his eyes, and let out a small puff of air.

The water’s glow faded, and you lifted your hand to check that the cut was gone. Once you’d confirmed it was, you took your right hand to discard the water, leaving your left hand still cupping his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, this time whispering. The waves crashed on the shoreline, but he’d heard you. His eyes opened slowly and your breath caught, for a moment astounded by the gold that shimmered behind his eyelids.

You told your whimpering heart that he hadn’t been this pretty when you first met him.

His left hand slowly detached from your wrist and reached out toward you, first tucking back a strand of your hair that had fallen into your face, then letting it fall to the back of your neck. From there, he slowly brought you in, as though giving you time to pull away.

You wouldn’t.

As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open, to watch him, for as long as you could, instantly you’d closed your eyes and let him guide you into his lips. He was warm, beyond the warmth of exercise, and you realized you’d heard somewhere that firebenders were naturally warmer just as waterbenders were naturally cooler. Zuko was exceptionally warm- you felt almost as though you could fall asleep with his arms around you the way they were, the comfort of his heat and his contact soaking into your bones.

And his lips. Though they were chapped, they still managed to feel so soft, and he tilted his head in just the right way so that the two of you fit together, perfectly.

“Hey, Y/N, Zuko, Katara’s got-“ Sokka, who had appeared over the hills, stopped dead in the middle of his scentence to turn around and walk back to the house. “Dinner,” he called over his shoulder, giggling a bit, and as you pulled from Zuko’s lips with a smile you could already imagine the kind of comments the two of you would get during the meal.

With a single look to Zuko’s face, his expression soft and caring, you decided you didn’t mind.

-🦌 Roe

#prince zuko x reader #prince zuko fluff #prince zuko #zuko imagine #zuko #zuko reader insert #zuko fluff #zuko imagines #zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #avatar fluff #avatar reader insert #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #avatar: the last airbender #avatar

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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

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So, since you murdered me yesterday, its only fair that I try to get a little something back from you. I want you to give me something good - I need a good ol' bath -preferably with either Frankie "Oral King" Morales or Marcus "Pants Python" Pike. Your choice, but know that my life (or afterlife) depends on it. Meaning - the sooner the better, love.

You know what? It's a Friday night, I'm feeling generous (and still a little bad about murdering you) - you get BOTH!!!

Bedtime Stories by JHFTM

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY Warnings: oral sex/F receiving; fingering/F receiving; mentions of anal sex; mentions of food; shameless fantasizing about Marcus "Trouser Snake" Pike's surprisingly filthy mouth

Frankie “She Comes First” Morales…

You come home from work on a Friday night just absolutely shattered. Frankie knows what you need, baby. He’s going to draw you the hottest bath you can stand, fill it with your favorite bath salts, and make you sink into it - no arguments, sweetheart. While you’re soaking up the warmth, he’s going to bring you a big glass of Southern sweet tea (homemade with sugar, none of that fast food shit), and sit on the edge of the tub to give you the world’s best foot massage.

What that? You didn’t know that the King of Cunnilingus also gives excellent foot massages? Well, now you do! And he’s not going to stop until you are putty in his hands. While he’s doing that, he’s going to ask you about your day. That low, calm voice of his, the little circles he’s rubbing into your skin, and the heat of the water almost put you to sleep. But Frankie’s not done yet, far from it...

When the water gets cold, he’s going to drain the tub and refill it extra-hot. Then he’s going to scrub your back, getting aaallll the spots you can’t reach. When you’re a limp, happy noodle, he’s going to rinse you off, wrap you in a big fluffy towel, and then lay you out on the bed. You’re honestly so happy and relaxed that you could fall asleep right there, laid out naked and air-drying gently under the ceiling fan. Just as you’re about to drift off with a smile on your face, you feel Frankie’s big hand on your ankle, shifting you into position so that one leg is bent with your foot flat on the bed. Then he does the same with your other ankle, and you realize exactly what he’s about to do…

“Ohhh… Frankie baby.” You’re so relaxed you can’t even open your eyes. “You don’t have to do that, love. I’m so relaxed already.”

“But I want to, sweet thing. I love doing this for you.” His voice is low and even, and he’s kneeling between your legs, rubbing circles on the inside of your knee with his broad thumb. You’re so blissed out that you almost can’t respond. The moment hangs there, and he’s starting to think you’ve fallen asleep. But it’s just that your brain is slowly processing what he wants to do, and how good he is at it, and how many times he’s made you come so hard before just from eating you. And you start to get aroused, despite your drowsiness. So you try to speak, and when you do, your breath hitches: “Okay.”

And that’s all the assurance he needs. Frankie knows you love this, he just always needs to hear it; he makes sure that you give your consent. And when you do he’s off like a shot, leaning down immediately because he’s already got both you and himself into position. All he needed was a yes.

You feel him take the first lick, separating your folds, and he loves the way you taste. You’re still warm and damp and clean and relaxed, and Frankie likes to start you off relaxed, because he knows it won’t be long. He knows how good he is at this, how to push your buttons and in what order and when to flex his fingers and when to hold them still. He knows when to lick with a broad, flat tongue and when to flick your nub with the hard tip of it, and he works every angle you have until you’re arching your back and moaning his name. Your hands can’t find a resting spot and they’re moving on their own almost; tangling in his hair and then palming flat on your abdomen and then gripping the bedspread and then squeezing your own breasts. Frankie loves it when you start to thrash around, making little squeals like you’re about to sneeze. He knows you’re close.

He feels your pelvic muscles start to tense and he does that thing with his tongue one last time and you are suddenly off in space, arching your back so hard you’re practically bent in half and squeezing his head between your thighs. He works his fingers slowly, massaging that sweet spot of sensitive tissue behind your pubic mound with one broad finger and laying a long, sucking kiss to your clit. A few tears leak out of your eyes from the release, and you can’t remember your own name for a moment. There’s only you, and Frankie, and that mouth of his, now laying soft little kisses to your mound and your inner thighs as he pulls his fingers out gently.

“Was that good?”

---

Marcus “Anaconda” Pike…

You knew that Marcus had something special planned for your anniversary. There was no way he would tell you what it was, exactly. But from the little secret smiles and hurried phone calls in the past few weeks, you knew he was pleased with his clandestine planning.

The big weekend came, and you started off on your lovely trip to the beach. A nice relaxing weekend to get away from it all, to disconnect your phones and reconnect with each other. The drive was easy, the sightseeing was fun, and the hotel he had picked was beautiful. When you checked in, Marcus made you wait at the bar. And when you got off the elevator and opened the door to the suite, you saw why.

He didn’t want you to overhear that he had rented the Presidential Suite. An enormous extravagance (you would have been happy with a regular room), but for Marcus it was perfect. He wanted to show you a good time, and let you live it up in luxury for 48 hours. When you saw the bathroom you gasped: not only was it bigger than your whole bedroom back at your D.C. apartment, but it had the largest bathtub you had ever seen.

When you finally closed your jaw and turned to look at Marcus, he had an enormous grin on his face. He knew that you were tired of the tiny shower and shallow tub in your apartment, and he had made sure to ask for the suite with the best soaking tub. You wanted to live in it.

Marcus turned the faucet on and tested the water, then told you that you could spend the entire evening in the tub if you wanted, no need to get dressed up and go out to a fancy dinner. You squealed and kissed him and made him promise to get in with you. Then you had the best idea ever.

“Ice cream in the tub? Whatever my girl wants,” Marcus had grinned. He ordered up room service and then rubbed your shoulders as you sat on the edge with your feet in the warm bubbles. When the food arrived, Marcus set it up within easy reach on a little table tray. He had ordered french fries and your favorite ice cream: chocolate chip cookie dough.

“God, Marcus. I could die happy right now.” You sat shoulder-deep in the warm water and teased his toes with yours, swirling your feet in the water to try to reach him. Marcus wiped his mouth off with a napkin and tossed it on the tray.

“I hope you don’t die. I was kind of looking forward to a nice weekend.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I had plans for later.”

You crooked your finger at him and he shifted to come over to your side of the tub. “What plans did you have in mind, Mr. Pike?”

“Oh, you know…” Marcus moved you away from the wall of the tub gently and then spread his legs open, sitting you down in the V and wrapping his arms around your torso.

He continued. “I thought we could start with a nice bath, maybe take this into the bedroom, see where the weekend goes.” He nuzzled your neck and your nipples popped to attention.

“Mm-hmm. Go on.”

“Well, I thought maybe after this I could rail you into the mattress. Make you come so hard and scream so loud that someone calls security.”

You giggled. “And then what?”

“Well,” Marcus kissed your neck and scraped his teeth gently over your ticklish spot, palming both of your breasts in his huge hands. “Once you’re nice and relaxed from two or three orgasms, I was going to break out the industrial lube and see if you wanted me to go in through the back door. Give you one of those nights you won’t ever forget.”

You gasped theatrically and he nuzzled your ear with his nose. “Because the last time we did that, sweet girl, you ended up being such a filthy little cum slut that I nearly had to tie you down. You were wiggling so hard I thought you were going to pop right off my cock.”

You moaned, somewhere between a hum and a wail. Marcus nipped your earlobe and continued his dirty monologue. “So if you want to get fucked into next week, baby girl, you’re going to have to be good for me this time. Don’t make me work so hard that it turns into a struggle fuck.”

Your eyes closed and you bit your lip as Marcus continued to run his hands up your sides, down your breasts, and finally, finally down to your sweet spot. He used two of his thick fingers to spread your outer lips open and then massaged your clit slowly. Your breathing stuttered as your mind started to ooze away into bliss.

Marcus’s next words were spoken in his normal, sweet, even tone, and it contrasted gorgeously with the depraved words. “Are we good, baby girl? Are you going to be a good little fuckdoll for me? Or do I have to tie you down?”

~The End~

#the battle continues between quica-quica-quica and JHFTM #Only one smut peddler can prevail!#I still feel bad about murdering you #but i hope this makes up for it #I'm gonna show up tomorrow and wreck your box #your Ask box #Not the other box #You ask and JHFTM delivers

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cute-angi · 2 years

Text

After I posted the very short fanfic for Professor Layton, I received several requests.

Apparently I write requests now!

One idea I really wanted to try and I was very motivated to write it!

I have little experience with headcanons, but I did my best!

Request: i was wondering if it would be possible for you to write headcanons for descole and an s/o who is part of Layton's team, but they feel excluded because of his attention to Luke and emmy. they solve many puzzles before anyone else. and Descole recognizes how smart they are, so they change sides? like your writing by the way.

A prelude to the epilogue - A Descole x Reader Story

"Dear Professor Layton..." you began to read the letter written by none other than the famous opera singer Janice Quatlane.

You didn't know that she had been a student of the same professor you have been traveling with for such a long time.

At first you were glad that you weren't the only one who was now working with him on these difficult cases. Along with you, his apprentice Luke and Emmy were now always solving the most difficult cases.

Now another adventure awaited you, because Janice reported that her friend, who had died a year ago, now seemed to be alive and had received eternal life .

Following up on her request, you visited the opera, alongside the three puzzled friends. You liked the latest composition by Oswald Whistler very much. But already during the performance something seemed strange to you. Almost everyone present seemed disinterested in the opera.

Finally, it was revealed that this performance was only a prologue.

In the first act, you immediately solved the riddles on the Crown Petone, but the professor did not listen to you. Rather, Luke was the one he focused on.

You understood that Luke needed a lot of attention to settle in properly as an apprentice. But in such a dangerous situation, everyone should be more concerned with their safety than with learning lessons.

Therefore, you kept to yourself, for the time being, that the voice of the master of the house who was announcing the riddles seemed familiar to you. After all, you couldn't be sure. And Hershel Layton would not take speculation for granted.

Finally leaving the ship, the interlude began. During the too-quiet mid-act conversation, you were introduced to the people still involved in the game. All of them had only the prize in front of their eyes.

But not you. You wanted to look behind the scenes and find out if your suspicions were correct, if this theater really came from the pen of that dangerous man, and above all, you wanted to know the reasons behind his actions.

You arrived on an island, where a feast introduced the second act.

On the beach you were walking thoughtfully, when the parts of a ruin sticking out of the ground captivated you. And with the sight of a strange pictorial writing you became aware of what everything was about.

You ran unnoticed into the forest, diverging from your original intention and increasingly realizing what game was actually being played.

You had never been particularly clever. But this one decisive gift, to draw conclusions, was probably offered to you by a higher being.

Like a flash of inspiration, you realized that the Detragon was not only a musical instrument, but also a device that could store memories. In this case, those of Melina. And Melina's consciousness existed in Janice's body. Whistler didn't seem to know this, though, which is why this letter reached Layton with a desperate call for help.

But Melina was not the real mystery. It was the Kingdom of Ambrosia. This was connected with the golden garden from Misthallery. Even if you didn't know its name, you knew that all the discoveries were ruins of an ancient civilization.

And in Misthallery, there was only one who longed to explore all the forgotten wonders.

"Descole!" you shouted, running through the corridors of the castle. "Descole, where are you hiding?"

No answer sounded. Exhausted, you finally came to a stop. You wondered if your assumptions had been wrong from the beginning. A lot of things sounded far-fetched. Memories implanted in somebody else. That was not possible.

You settled down against a wall and, laughing from frustration, told yourself that your behavior was childish.

On the one hand, because you realized that you were jealous of Professor Layton's apprentice and his assistant. On the other hand, because for that reason you wanted to prove yourself and you only embarrassed yourself.

After some time, you came to your senses, stood up and entered the room behind you. Your eyes brimming with tears wondered as you found photographs of Janice, Melina, and Oswald Whistler in this room. Accordingly, Melina must have lived here. Probably in the silent hope that the fresh sea breeze might restore her to health.

Looking at the room, you noticed on a piano that Melina had probably begun to compose. In the music book you found, notes were incomplete.

You were not very familiar with music, but you recognized a pattern.

Searching on a shelf, you found what you were looking for. An illustration of the emblem of Ambrosia. You compared it with the sheet music and thought you recognized what was missing. A melody formed in your mind, which you had never heard before and yet sounded so harmonious, as if it could alleviate all suffering in the world.

You didn't know how long you sat there in this room. You were just suddenly torn from your thoughts and decided to close the book and put it back where you found it.

"You're imagining too much," you told yourself. You were convinced you were not like the great apprentice and the best assistant. How could you explain your disappearance to Professor Layton? Would he still want you by his side? On second thought, did you even want to stay by his side? You no longer felt at home with them. Was that the reason, why you had run head over heels to him, after it occurred to you that he might be the one behind it all? A man who - as you could discover in Misthallery - was thinking the same way you do. At least, that's what you believed. Believing was not knowing. And again you sank into negative thoughts and didn't know what to do with yourself.

Leaning your head against the door and gripping the knob tightly, you paused as a cool breeze reached you. The window had been closed when you entered the room. That it was now open suggested the presence of a second person. You did not dare to turn around. But the unknown one revealed himself with theatrical prelude to the grand finale.

"Do you know, darling?", he spoke to you. "When you became involved with others you quite possibly stepped down a level or two, but If you become involved with me, you will be throwing yourself into the abyss."

"I've lost my way a little, but that doesn't matter, because if you've accompanied me, then we're both lost," you replied.

While turning to him, you began to pronounce your statement aloud: "Kafka. Letters to Melina. A wise choice!"

Descole stood in front of you and the incoming light gave him a powerful glow. As if he were the savior you had longed for from the beginning.

"How interesting it is, after all, to behold a soul that thinks so little of itself, and yet is the most intelligent of all. To quote Kafka without a mistake is more than merely a skill."

"That may be my only talent."

"I doubt it. Was it not you, who discovered the secrets of Misthallery before Layton even approached them? The same way you do this very moment..."

You looked at him with widened eyes. With just a few words, he invalidated all your thoughts.

Descole spoke to you like no one before him. He recognized your abilities even before you had yourself done so.

"Someone like you, is needed at my side," he urged you and stretched out his hand to you invitingly.

You wanted nothing more and yet something within you was holding you back. It was the voices of your former travel companions, who advised you against him and classified him as dangerous. But how could a man who only intended to do you good, be a threat?

"Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached," he forced, whereupon you accepted his invitation without further hesitation.

Descole immediately tightened his grip on you. You had been a stranger to anyone else for so long, that it now caused the greatest joy-driven feelings inside you to rise up.

The game on this island was far from over. And you were glad to have finally found your role in this play.

Most people believed that the protagonists were present over the entire course of a story. But in the greatest performances they were the last to arise. it was a prelude to the epilogue.

"In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality."

#Descole x reader #jean descole #professor layton #luke triton #reader insert #request #what am i even writing #i love him #eternal diva

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havin-a-wee · 3 years

Text

Stars Align

pairing: harry styles x y/n

warnings: fluff, ig you could consider it angst but its really just mysterious

word count: 2k

hello! i apologize for kind of disappearing, my fic rec account has kind of blown up and ive been super busy with that.

this is my entry for @sweetlygolden 's Harry On Holiday Challenge! i chose strangers in the same city, and the line prompt “That is the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen.” i honestly already have a part 2 planned out but we'll see how it goes!

“How much longer are you going to stare at that pretending like it’s interesting.”

Her soft voice surprised him, and he whipped his head around to see who had been speaking to him.

For the first time in a while, Harry was able to get away for a little. Of course, he travels a lot for work, but this was the first vacation since he can remember where he was alone, doing whatever he pleases. He chose Italy for this special occasion, because it’s always been one of his favorite places, and he missed the freedom of wandering around the boot shaped country without a care in the world.

The day's adventures had brought him to La Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna e Contemporanea, which is a museum that he's been wanting to see for quite some time. He started the day off by getting a cappuccino and a crespelle from a wonderful little cafe down the street from his hotel.

Right afterwards he walked to the museum, taking in the sights around him on the 20 minute trek to his destination. Before the woman behind him snatched his attention, he was staring at a painting of an abstract house. The house was only painted in blue, and the artist had used the different shades and tones of the color to create the details in the painting.

He had been staring at it for a good amount of time, which he assumed is what prompted the stranger to talk to him.

It’s his 3rd day on the trip, leaving him 4 more until he has to be back in L.A. for work. He has no plans, no schedules, no job to do. It’s just him and the world. At least, that’s what he assumed it would be. The vacation is supposed to be a solo one, however, he’s currently staring at a stranger that decided to speak to him. And for some reason, he is drawn to her. Compelled to spend time with her after just a simple sentence was spoken between the two of them.

When he fully turns around she jumped, a bit startled by his bright red complexion. “That is the worst sunburn I have ever seen!”

It was true, Harry had managed to get himself a nasty burn on the first day in Italy. He usually tans instead of getting a sunburn, but when you’re used to the dreary weather of the UK, it can be hard to forget how strong the sun is in other places.

So he had laid out on the beach and fell asleep, waking up a few hours later with tomato red skin and a burning sensation covering the exposed skin.

“That’s what happens when y’fall asleep on a beach in Rome,” he chuckled, smiling awkwardly at the woman before him.

She’s beautiful, there is absolutely no denying that. She was wearing a simple spaghetti-strap black dress that cut off right at the knee. There were no designs, no embellishments, just a black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her lips have a deep red lipstick smeared across them, and he couldn’t help but notice how the color complimented her skin tone. Her simple black pumps completed the outfit, and her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, with a few of the front strands falling out of the hair tie and framing her face.

“I’d assume so.” Her demeanor is serious, even though there's a smile on her face. She’s…..intimidating?

Harry hasn’t been intimidated by anything since he was a teenager. Once you perform in front of thousands of screaming people, who also happen to idolize you, things don’t tend to phase a person anymore.

But for some reason, her presence caused butterflies to fly around in his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. He actually enjoyed the feeling, it reminded him of when everything was normal.

What also reminded him of normality was the fact that she seems to not have the slightest clue of who he is. If she does, she’s sure as hell good at hiding it.

“You’ve been looking at the same painting for 10 minutes, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” A small laugh escaped her lips, and the noise agitated the fluttering butterflies residing in his tummy. Her voice is mesmerizing, and she sounds like what Harry imagines an angel to sound like. She has an American accent, and it eased his nerves slightly that she was also a tourist.

He turned back to the painting to look at it, but it was also convenient in that she wouldn’t be able to see his undoubtedly flushed cheeks.

“Yeah m’not sure what it is ‘bout it but there’s somethin’ special with this one.”

“That’s Prismi lunari by Fortunato Depero, he was very talented.” Harry spun around once again to face her, shocked at her knowledge of the random artwork.

“You know that off of the top of your head?” He tilts his head and looks at her, furrowing his brows in confusion. He’s pretty sure there was no label for the painting, and if there was it was way too small for her to see from where she’s standing.

“I know a lot of things.”

The statement was simple, but Harry wondered if her words paired with the smirk on her face are code for something else. “How long have you been here?” Her question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at her and smiled. He flicks his wrist and directs his attention to it, reading the Gucci watch adorning his wrist.

“Well I got here at 11, so about 5 hours.” It honestly surprised him when he realized it was 4 o’clock, but he knows how wrapped up he gets in artwork so he must have lost track of time.

“Jesus christ! I can barely stand to walk around a museum for an hour!” She blows out a puff of air, mocking being out of breath. They both laugh at her comment, Harry laughing a bit harder than her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! M’Harry, s’nice to meet you.” He stuck out his ring-clad hand, and her delicate fingers wrapped around his as she shook it.

“Well Harry, wanna get out of here and walk around with someone who knows the city?” She points at herself, and the small smile she gave him earlier transformed into a silly grin.

“Well m’not sure how well an American can know the city, but I’ll bite.” Usually he would never do this. Going off with strangers is never a good idea, especially because of his status. But there’s something about the girl that makes Harry feel safe. They had just met yet he feels like he could trust her with things he hasn’t even told his best friends.

“An American who’s been living here for a year, that is.” His eyebrows raise slightly, intrigued by her new admission. But before he can even open his mouth to speak, she grabs his wrist with her daintily manicured hand and whisks him out of the quiet museum.

The air was humid, quickly drawing beads of sweat from his forehead. He’s also quite baffled at how she was completely unphased. Not a single drop of sweat was dripping on her body, her soft skin untouched like an old porcelain doll, preserved for years in perfect condition.

“I’ll show you around a little, we can go to this wonderful little vintage store I know.” She had turned to face him, her hand moving from his wrist to cup his one hand in both of hers. “Um- at least, if you want to.” For the first time, she was nervous. Although she will never admit it, Harry makes her extremely nervous. Extremely.

When he turned around when they first met, her jump of surprise wasn’t just because of his bright sunburn. In fact, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about how fucking attractive he is. He really looks like one of the statues that was put up in the museum. His sparkling green eyes send a shiver down her spine, and the tattoos peaking through his thin white t-shirt cause a fire to build in her stomach.

Having someone to talk too while he traversed the streets of Rome is a lot more enjoyable than Harry had anticipated. He purposefully told all of his friends that he was going to be MIA while on this trip. But the fact that she is a stranger changes it in some way, in a good way.

The cobblestone streets are surprisingly smooth, and they walk next to each other in a comfortable silence for a long amount of time. The silence would only break when she would point out something in their field of vision. At one point, Harry pauses, standing still in the middle of the street with a thinking look on his face. He realizes that he doesn’t know her name, which seems ridiculous to him because they were walking around a foreign country like the best of friends. She turns to him, matching his confused look when they lock eyes. “I just realized I don’t know y’name.”

Instead of reacting like he would expect one to react when asked that question, her pupils dilated and for some reason she appears to be scared. Why would someone be scared when you ask for their name?

‘Maybe she thinks her name is embarrassing’ Harry thought, still looking at her with a confused look, but now it was laced with a bit of suspicion.

He watches her sigh, and her hand went up to her ponytail and pulled the black elastic out, her soft hair cascading down her shoulders. With another sigh she said, “Y/N. My names Y/N.”

“That’s a really beautiful name.”

“Oh! There’s the store!”

He found it odd that she was so eager to switch the subject, but goes along with it nonetheless.

The vintage store is lovely, and Harry was able to find a beautiful ring and necklace set, matching gold roses on both of them. They looked around the shop for about 15 minutes, Harry being the only one to make a purchase.

The sun had set by the time they went outside, which isn’t surprising considering that it was almost dark when they walked into the little shop. They stood, facing each other outside of this small little shop in Rome. Two strangers, who just happened to cross each other's path. Harry knows this won’t last forever, and he also knows that he wants to see her again. In a leap of faith, he pulls the gold necklace out of the small brown bag and looks up at her.

“Here, I got them so we could match.” It was bold, but Harry feels connected to this girl, and he doesn’t know it, but she feels the exact same. The smile she gave him when he handed her the necklace was bright and genuine, the creases next to her eyes proving its authenticity. He motioned for her to turn around, wrapping the necklace around her neck and clasping it while she held up her hair.

“Thank you Harry. This is the best day I’ve had in a while.”

“Likewise.”

“I hate to do this, but I have to go. Have a wonderful rest of your trip Harry.”

It was then that she placed a small, tender peck on his lips, barely lingering for a second before pulling away.

“Wait! Can I get y’number?” Her smile slanted into a smirk, and she pulled a small card and a pen out of her small black clutch. She placed the card up against the brick wall, leaning it against it and scribbling something down on the paper. When she finished writing, she pressed her lips against the card, handing it to Harry.

He looked down at it, expecting to see a series of numbers, but he was met with a simple note, scribbled on the piece of cardstock next to the red lip print she had left.

May the stars align in our favor once again. - Y/N

He looked up frantically, planning to ask her to write her number down as well, but he was met with nothing.

She had disappeared into the night, leaving as quickly as she appeared earlier that day.

#HarryOnHoliday #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

Just A Line Without A Hook

Pairing: Hinata X Reader

Words: 5.9K

Summary: You and Hinata share your point-of-views during important milestones throughout your relationship.

A/N: This is a full relationship development and I’m very proud lol hopefully you can find some joy in it :3

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Hinata was weird.

That lurked in your mind as you leaned on a conspicuously sticky bar table listening to him tell you his entire life’s story. Your original intent for the night had been to quickly pop into Yachi’s birthday party since you worked at the butt crack of dawn. Give her the present and maybe have a drink. Whatever you did it was meant to be fast.

Too bad you had never been good at sticking to plans.

“I moved to Brazil right after high school to learn beach volleyball,” Hinata said, his smile soft as he looked longingly in the distance. “But I didn’t explore as much as I should have. I really want to go back.”

“Out of high school?” You cocked your head to the side, “that’s wild. I moved to Tokyo and still felt completely out of place.”

“Well, it didn’t go too hot at first.” He scratched his cheek. “I actually got my wallet stolen my first week there…”

You fought to keep lips from pulling into a smile.

There was something in the carefree way he carried himself that made it hard to turn away. The moment Yachi introduced you there was an odd sense of comfort that washed over you. Which made no sense because you had known absolutely nothing about the guy-aside from him being a professional volleyball player and attending high school with Yachi.

Still, it was no reason to let your guard down.

“Sounds like they took advantage of the clueless foreigner,” you teased, curious butterflies tickling your abdomen when he pouted. “I’ve always thought Italy looked cool. If I could travel somewhere.”

Hinata’s lips mindlessly curved into a relaxed smile as you spoke, as if that was their default expression when not preoccupied. And it made conversation with him easy. It dissipated your usual anxieties about overthinking every action or word. You truly felt like you could be yourself and just exist within his presence.

“I have a friend in Italy!” Hinata said, elation lighting up his amber eyes. He began drawing circles in the condensation of his glass with an awkward laugh. “I think anyway. He travels all over the place, but he was in Italy last I knew.”

“That’s so cool,” your jaw went a little slack. You didn’t know people actually did stuff like that.

“Yeah Noya’s the best,” Hinata nodded resolutely. “He visited me for a while in Brazil. I taught him some Portugese and we played beach volleyball. He was so jealous everyone called me Ninja Shoyo. It was awesome.”

Hinata could speak Portugese? Ninja Shoyo?

So many questions…

“What’s a Ninja Sho-” You began until your phone lit up after receiving a message and you realized just how late it was. “Oh my god, I have to go.”

“Wait,” Hinata interrupted you mid-frantic scrabble to zip your jacket. You furrowed your brow at the smartphone he placed unlocked on the table between you. “Could I-uh-you know… talk to you again sometime?”

You blinked a few times before swiping the device off the bar’s gross table. “Yeah,” you said, a warmth you didn’t recognize filling your chest as you created your contact. “I’d like that.”

An absentminded smile painted Hinata’s face after you waved good-bye and when you stepped outside beneath the light snowfall you realized your lips were curved to match. But there was still too wide a gap between how little you knew about Hinata and how much you desired to be close to him. That new part of you burned too bright in your chest to be ignored.

And you would simply have to change that.

*******************************************************************************************

Hinata huddled in the corner of the gymnasium over his duffle bag, staring at his cellphone in case he received a last second message. His eyes flickered between the ticking clock above the bleachers and his phone’s black screen, stomach sinking as the seconds passed. He anxiously unlocked his phone to scroll through and analyze his last conversation.

Had he said something wrong? He supposed he’d never actively tried to flirt before, so it wasn’t unlikely he offended you somehow. He furrowed his brow and chewed on his thumbnail, rereading his last message. Maybe he overdid it with the emojis?

Wait, were you at work? You could also just be busy. Maybe he was just overthinking everything…

“Why are you crouched in the corner like a creep?” Atsumu crept up behind him, eyeing him suspiciously.

Hinata jumped, shoving his phone back into his duffle bag. “Nothing.”

“Bull shit. You’ve been acting off for weeks,” Atsumu squatted to Hinata’s eye-level and leaned forward with a sly grin. “Someone’s keeping secrets.”

A warmth rushed to Hinata’s face. He was a terrible liar if questioned directly. “I wouldn’t keep secrets from you guys. I mean, we’re practically family now.” he chuckled unconvincingly.

“Right,” Atsumu gave him a once-over before standing. Hinata let out a relieved sigh that he’d been spared for now.

“What’s happening over here?” Bakuto boisterously called out while skipping over to the boys. Sakusa trailed behind him with his hands shoved deep into his sweatpant’s pockets.

“Hinata’s lying out his ass.”

Hinata whipped around toward Atsumu with his jaw slack. The audacity of this guy. “I am not!”

“The guy’s zoning out at practice, making heart eyes at his phone, and fucking notre daming over his duffle?” Atsume raised his brows at Hinata. “Either he’s getting scouted for a different team or he’s dating someone.”

“You’re leaving the team?” Sakusa asked monotone, as if he couldn’t care either way. If Hinata wasn’t used to the constant monotone he’d be offended.

“No,” he denied, qualming Bokuto’s prepared puppy-dog eyes. “And I’m not dating anyone.”

Which wasn’t a lie. You were nothing more than a friend at this point. Even if his heart ignited a flame anytime your name crossed his mind.

“A crush then,” Atsumu waved him off. “Either way a massive Hinata life development you lied to us about.”

“I didn’t lie, I just,” Hinata wrinkled his nose while thinking of ways out of the predicament. “I think Shugo is calling to start practice. We should probably-”

“You’ve got a crush?” Bokuto’s eyes appeared to sparkle when he flung an arm around Hinata’s shoulder. “Who is it? Do we know them? You don’t need to sweat Hinata I’m an excellent wingman.”

Hinata waved his hands in front of him. “You don’t know them and it’s okay. You really don’t have to-”

“Oh, don’t be so considerate. We’re offering our services Hinata.” Atsumu said smugly while Bokuto nodded excitedly.

Hinata forced a half-smile. This had been exactly what he wanted to avoid. If his feelings were just a measly crush he would have gladly brought them up to the guys, but they were way more extreme then that.

“I’m not offering anything,” Sakusa raised his brows slightly in Hinata’s direction before walking off. “Good luck.”

“Buzz kill.” Atsumu pouted.

“Look, this is more complicated than you guys realize,” Hinata brushed Bokuto’s arm off his shoulders. “I can’t really explain it, but I don’t think you guys can help me.”

“Hinata, it’s okay. We all have our faults. Some more than others, but we’re here for you.” Atsumu patted his shoulder understandably and Hinata shot him a glare.

“Akaashi always tells me to ‘just be yourself’.” Bokuto nodded proudly, clasping his fist with determination. “Then you’ll attract the people who are meant to be in your life.”

Hinata blinked a few times. That… was really good advice.

“That’s stupid,” Atsumu scoffed. “You gotta stalk them on all social media. Analyze their personality and figure out exactly what they're into. Learn their ins and outs and become their type.”

That… was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

“I don’t know Atsumu, that sounds kind of wrong,” Bokuto tapped his chin and Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed deeply.

“Okay, but numbers don’t lie and I have the highest success rate.”

Bokuto and Hinata tilted their heads mulling that one over. No. It still seemed dumb.

Hinata zoned off as Bokuto and Atsumu began debating the morals of online stalking and the value of Akaashi’s opinions. He already knew that if he wanted real help picking apart the fire in his chest he’d have to talk to someone who’d take him seriously like Yamaguchi. Then he’d actually get to dissect the confusing emotions in his heart-look at them from all angles.

Learn to understand them and tend to them properly. Help them grow.

He watched Atsumu chase a cackling Bokuto around the gym until their captain Shugo scolded them. Hinata smirked. Even if they weren’t the most helpful he still appreciated knowing he had people willing to help him... in their own way.

*******************************************************************************************

You and Hinata spent the majority of your free time together, but even after several months it was nothing more than two friends placing comfort in each other’s company. Most Thursdays it was normal to find Hinata lounging on your living room sofa. He watched some volleyball commentary video on his cellphone, legs propped lazily on the armrest, while you answered work emails at your coffee table.

On a normal Thursday night you would continue whatever show you’d been watching-currently Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood-but tonight you were stuck finishing last minute work. You heaved a sigh and glanced over your shoulder at Hinata, his breathing relaxed while his eyes flickered across his phone’s screen.

You weren’t oblivious to your feelings. Maybe at first you were able to brush them off as excitement about a new friend, but they had shifted into something intense. Always festering in the forefront of your mind throughout your daily routine.

It became obvious when you noticed you spent more time counting the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose than focusing on conversations. When you realized you spent more time at work trying to pin-point the exact shade to call his hair than getting actual work done. Even more so when your heart would do acrobatics at the sound of his voice whenever you talked on the phone.

No matter how you looked at it, it became impossible to deny.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You looked back again and Hinata’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern, his earbuds pulled out and phone placed on his stomach.

“Yeah,” you half-smiled and he raised his brows to show he clearly didn’t believe you. You let out a breathy laugh, breaking the eye-contact to lean back against the couch and place your head on his bicep. “I’m just thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teased, a hand gently placed on the crown of your head.

“Shut up,” you said with no bite behind your words.

He snorted, rubbing his thumb against the top of your head. “...what if I was also thinking?”

“That’s probably more dangerous than me thinking,” you laughed, rubbing your socked toes together with a soft smile. When he didn’t respond you twisted around to check on him, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Hinata?”

“Nevermind.”

You gripped the couch cushion for support as you leaned in slightly. There was no way for you to be sure, but you could have sworn Hinata was blushing.

“What were you thinking about?” You questioned. Your heart was beating a million times a second in your chest and there was something akin to hope burning beside it.

Hinata looked in your eyes challengingly, “what were you thinking about?”

“You.”

He seemed taken aback by your bluntness, but brushed it off quickly. “I want to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as you stared into his hopeful amber eyes.

“Well, do it then.” You responded, barely above a whisper. Hinata took a while to process, but once he had his face lit up crimson.

His hand cradled the side of your face and you watched him carefully, allowing him to make the moves. You kept your mind blank so as not to overthink the situation, but you hoped at least one brain cell was functioning enough to get you through it.

The kiss Hinata pressed against your lips was a little too hesitant, too off-center, and too brief. Yet the beaming smile he gave you afterward sent your heart into a frenzy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The dopey smile on your lips felt too embarrassing and you buried your face against Hinata’s chest.

After a little coaxing with promises of television and snacks you peeked back up, happily met with Hinata’s dazed smile. The rest of the night was spent wrapped in each other’s arms and supplying random kisses because ‘they definitely needed practice’; ending with Hinata falling asleep in your bed for the first, but definitely not last, time.

*******************************************************************************************

Hinata hated being sick.

He hated fighting through a thick fog to collect words when stringing together sentences was usually effortless. He hated the pounding headaches following any light reaching his unfocused eyes. And Hinata especially hated his fit lungs struggling through breaths that came out raspy and weak through his aching throat.

Nothing good came from being sick. It was a lesson he learned long ago.

“You need to sleep,” you whispered against the crown of his head, your fingers carding gently through his sweaty locks. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against the cool skin at your collarbone while gripping your shirt at your shoulder.

Unfortunately, you were making it really hard for him to hate anything anymore.

“You’re going to get sick,” he pointed out, voice scratchy from his throat’s soreness.

You hummed dismissively, planting a small kiss on the top of his head. “My immune system’s pretty strong.”

Hinata knew it didn’t work that way, but was too selfish to argue your flawed logic. The bare skin of your neck helped chill his overheated forehead and he cuddled ever closer into you, twining your legs together. He wrinkled his nose when he realized how gross his fever was probably making him.

He’d have to wash your sheets and stuff when he was feeling better.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he pouted.

“That one’s gonna have to wait,” you chuckled lightly, beginning to rub soothing circles into his lower back. The vibrations from your voice sent a pleasant shiver down Hinata’s spine and the corners of his lips lifted. “You know, you’ll get better faster if you sleep.”

“But I wanna stay awake with you,” Hinata whined, lazily beginning to trace designs on your shoulder. The world was so cruel.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, barely above a whisper. Hinata grumbled a nonsense of a response and you chuckled lightly. You fell silent for a long enough period that Hinata began believing you fell asleep before him until you asked, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah,” Hinata yawned, snuggling against your chest. “I love secrets.”

Silence enveloped his apartment again and Hinata almost dozed off.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

He blinked himself back to consciousness while the words rolled over in his mind. He froze. The fast paced rhythm of your heart was the only source available to keep him grounded as his foggy brain worked to unpack your words.

Love?

He glanced up to meet your nervous eyes paired with flushed cheeks. He stared in disbelief while you continued to patiently wait for his reaction. This better not be some sort of fever induced hallucination.

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” he said, eyebrows creased. Aside from his mom and Natsu, obviously, but he figured you’d know what he meant.

The corner of your mouth lifted into a hopeful half-smile. “Well, I’m honored.” Your touch was gentle as you brushed the hair back from his forehead. He subconsciously leaned into your touch with a wondrous stare and his eyes scoured your face for his answer.

Except you were the answer.

“I’ve never been in love before, but…” He struggled for the right words-any words-settling on what he could piece together at the moment. “I feel like things are better when you’re here. Like, I can do anything I hope to and more. I just feel happier when I’m with you and it’s easier and everything makes sense…” He wrinkled his nose. “Is… is that love?”

You cradled his fevered cheeks tenderly. “I think that’s for you to decide Hinata.”

He nodded to himself. “Okay,” he said determinedly. “Then yeah. It is, I love you, (Y/N).”

“I’m glad,” you smiled, looking at him with an affectionate stare that set his heart ablaze. He took a deep breath before disappointedly letting his forehead drop to your chest.

“Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad.”

You let out a bubble of laughter, rubbing your thumbs tenderly against his cheeks. “We’ll make up for it plenty when you’re feeling better.”

He tried to hold back a smirk, but failed. “Fine.”

“Now go to sleep,” You ordered, planting a quick peck to the top of his head.

He grumbled half-assed as he situated himself more comfortably, but Hinata was all talk at this point. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and his heart hummed with contentment. He was in love. A smile dusted his lips as he began drifting off.

Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad after all.

*******************************************************************************************

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at your boyfriend across the couch chowing down on take-out sushi. Hinata’s eyes were glued to the television’s screen, his hand alternating between shoveling food into his mouth and rubbing mindless circles on your shin across his lap. Things were comfortable, easy, perfect some might even say.

Too perfect.

“Why aren’t we fighting?”

Hinata turned, cheeks stuffed with food and eyebrows raised with surprise. Under normal circumstances you’d consider it adorable, but you wanted to be serious.

He swallowed with a wince before raising an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

“No, but we’ve been dating for a while and we haven’t had the big fight.”

“We fight all the time,” he placed his plate on the coffee table with a roll of his eyes. You huffed because he clearly wasn’t on the same page. “Just yesterday I was pissed because you left an empty container of milk in my fridge.”

“It wasn’t empty.”

“There was a dribble. That’s not enough for-” He put up a hand and took a breath. “Not the point. Point is: we fought right?”

“That was hardly a discussion.” You waved him off. He had angrily brought it up, you kissed him sorry, and he forgave you. Hinata didn’t know how to hold a grudge and all you had to do was buy him more milk.

“Okay, a few weeks ago then. You fell in the toilet because I forgot to put the seat down.” He nodded confidently. “You woke me up in the middle of the night for that one.”

You shuddered at the memory of being shocked into full consciousness by falling into a pool of your own piss. In your shocked state you may have chosen violence and decided to pick a fight with Hinata at three in the morning, but it was well deserved.

“Okay, but that’s not what I mean.”

“Are you sure?” He raised a brow. “Waking up with my girlfriend on top of me and slowly realizing she’s threatening to end my bloodline kind of feels like a fight.”

“Okay, that’s-” You pinched the bridge of your nose and ignored his amused smirk. “I’m talking about relationship ruining fights.”

He tilted his head, clearly not following you.

“Like, you insult me using some secret I’ve only divulged to you and I leave crying with no self-esteem.” You explained with exaggerated hand gestures and his nose wrinkled. “Or I walk in on you having an explicit affair with Kageyama, or maybe you get drunk and I over hear you talking with-”

He put both his hands up, “back it up. What the hell was that last one?”

“An explicit affair?” You blinked a few times and cocked your head to the side. “With… Kageyama?”

“Yeah that’s what I-we’re gonna unpack that later.” He palmed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Anyway, why would any of this happen?”

“Because that’s what always happens.” You answered honestly. Maybe you sounded like a pessimist, but that was just the reality of the world. At least, you had never seen it work any other way. “So just… tell me how it’s going to happen.”

Hinata looked crestfallen at your statement and the dejected look in his eyes made your heart sink to your stomach. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to question your sanity, but was taken back when he crawled forward to rest his head on your chest.

“If I ever hurt you like that,” he mouthed against your collarbone. “I would never forgive myself.”

Your heart raced and you brought a hand to card through his unruly locks, nodding to acknowledge his words.

“Don’t overthink,” he said, kissing your neck softly. “If we’re good then we’re good. Maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.”

Your lips curved into a small smile and you nodded again. You let yourselves just exist with him for a while. Heart’s beating in unison while you twirled tufts of autumn through your fingers. His lips dusting across your neck as he whispered loving affirmations against you. And maybe he was right.

Maybe it was just meant to be.

*******************************************************************************************

Hinata moved expertly around his kitchen preparing breakfast, sneaking glancing at you perched drowsily beside the stove adorning one of his larger shirts. Obviously it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like that-hair mussed, eyes heavy with sleep, in only his clothes-but it still warmed his heart when you existed so casually in space. Like you belonged there.

His lips curved into a smile as he cracked several eggs into a heated frying pan. The dull thudding of your heels hitting a cupboard mixed with the sizzling on the pan for the background of your comfortable silence. Even without conversation his life felt brighter in your presence and he was thankful his apartment was such a convenient location for the both of you.

You yawned deeply, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and finally focusing on him. Hinata selfishly wished you could be with him more often. The days he woke up without you were the coldest.

“What are you staring at?” You slurred with another yawn.

Hinata shot you a lopsided grin, “my beautiful girlfriend.”

You side-eyed him with an amused smirk, “kiss ass.”

Hinata slid the eggs onto a couple plates before going to stand in front of you. You raised a curious brow, but weren’t given enough time to voice a question before he pressed his lips to yours. His mouth curved into a smile against yours-another reason he loved you being here so often was it meant more of this.

Your hands cradled his face as he appreciated that you still tasted like mint from his borrowed toothpaste this morning. Another subtle way he’d nudged himself into your life he realized, toying with the bottom of his shirt you were wearing.

“What’s this for?” You asked, sliding your hands over his shoulders and hooking them behind his neck.

“I just love you,” he replied earnestly. Your fingers laid a scorching touch as they teased the baby hairs on his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. Hinata took his time with languid kisses-he could kiss you a million times and the hunger for more would always linger.

Your breaths were heavy when you pulled back to place your forehead against his, eyeing him with pure affection that set his heart ablaze. “I love you too, Shoyo.”

He trailed his knuckles down your cheek and relished in the way you leaned into his touch. How had he gotten this luck? Hinata placed a tender kiss on your forehead, temple, cheekbone, tip of your nose, and finally on your lips.

“You should move in.”

Hinata’s eyes widened in shock at his own question because that had been the last thing he’d planned on doing this morning. Well, the suggestion was out there and it’s not like he wanted to take it back...

You blinked several times as you processed. “With you?”

“Ideally.”

You furrowed your brow while mulling it over and Hinata counted his heartbeats to stay grounded. Worst case scenario you say no and things are awkward for a bit. Best case scenario he takes a large step forward with the love of his life.

Oh god, he should’ve planned this better.

“Okay.”

“I understand,” Hinata sighed. “It was totally random and I shouldn’t have expected-did you say yes?”

“Yeah,” your cheeks flushed and you bit your bottom lip to fight down a smile. “I mean, I’m here most of the time anyway, right?”

Hinata nodded mindlessly before a face splitting grin covered his features and he scooped you off the corner. You squealed while he spun you around with a bright laugh, interrupting any of your comments with a passionate kiss. While you were busy tangling your fingers into his unruly hair he glanced toward his bedroom’s door.

There was probably enough time to celebrate.

*******************************************************************************************

“She’s beautiful,” you said in awe, cradling the swaddled newborn in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, tiny breaths leaving her partly open mouth. The baby looked too fragile for this world, features too small and delicate to be realistic.

She was amazing.

“Well, she’s our daughter,” Tanaka’s chest puffed up proudly. He sat beside Shimizu on her hospital bed with an arm hung loosely around her. “Obviously she’s going to be perfect.”

You wouldn’t fight his dramatics; he deserved to be happy today.

“What’s her name?” Hinata breathed. Seated beside you he leaned heavily against your side to observe the baby.

“Sayori,” Shimizu yawned. She and Tanaka had deep bruises under their eyes, and you smirked knowingly down at the sleeping demon in disguise.

Hinata hesitantly moved his hand toward Sayori before planting it back on his lap. You raised a brow, reaching over with the hand not helping cradle Sayori’s head and grabbed his forefinger. Hinata looked at you panicked, but relaxed as you guided him toward Sayori’s small fist that pressed gently against her pink cheeks.

When she instinctively wrapped her fingers around his forefinger his eyes widened and he whipped his gaze to you. “She grabbed my finger,” he whispered.

“They do that,” you smirked, a frenzy of butterflies attacking your stomach as he stared at Sayori wondrously.

“That’s amazing.”

“Okay, stop using my kid as a way to feed your baby fever.” Tanaka huffed. Shimizu elbowed him in the stomach and a warmth trickled up your face when his words hit you.

“What’s a baby fever?” Hinata asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is it dangerous?”

“No,” you stumbled over a reply that wouldn’t make the situation incredibly awkward. “It’s when you, uh, want kids.”

“Oh,” Hinata shrugged, bouncing his finger to play with Sayori’s hand. “What’s wrong with eventually wanting kids?”

“That’s not-”

“No, it means you want a kid now.” Tanaka emphasized by smacking the hospital bed. “Like, go home immediately and make a baby level now.”

Hinata blinked a few times before his face lit up red, “oh.”

You nodded awkwardly and both of you remained quiet while Shimizu chastised Tanaka in the background. One of you should probably deny the baby fever thing… right? You glanced over to Hinata, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he stared intently at Sayori.

“Okay, Sayori needs to eat soon, so I’m kicking Hinata out.” Tanaka announced.

Hinata didn’t put up any fights and you passed Sayori back to Shimizu, making plans to see each other again soon. You offered your services for future babysitting with Hinata’s vigorous agreeing behind you and they were more than grateful for it. Regardless Tanaka shooed you out when Sayori began wriggling in Shimizu’s arms.

As you and Hinata made your way to the metro that would bring you to your apartment complex the air between you was heavy. An obvious awkwardness that was harder to ignore the longer you walked together.

“I’m not surprised their baby ended up looking so cute,” you laughed, filling the space with nervous chatter. “Shimizu is really pretty.”

He nodded, looking up at the cloudless sky thoughtfully. “Do you think our baby would be cute?”

Your heart rate quickened at the idea. It wasn’t like you’d never thought of it, but talking about it outloud was a completely different monster. “I think it would have pretty great genes.”

He nodded, furrowing his brow at the sidewalk ahead.

Hinata wasn’t an idiot. Neither of you were ready for something like that. Several nights ago you’d decided to get drunk and attempt making meat buns-you’d nearly set the kitchen on fire. That doesn’t scream parent material.

On a larger scale, Hinata had just been selected for Japan’s Olympic team. There just wasn’t time for something like that. No, a baby wasn’t realistic.

However...

“What’s our apartment’s pet policy?”

He turned to you with a raised brow, “probably an extra fee and a weight limit. Why?”

You smirked mischievously at him, “want to get a dog?”

His jaw dropped. “Oh my fu-can I name it?”

“Only if I get to pick the breed.”

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” Hinata grasped your hand and yanked you toward the closest metro station. “Look up the closest pet store and let’s go!”

You chuckled, allowing him to pull you toward a random station that probably wouldn’t lead you where you needed. It would work out in the end. Things always seemed to fall perfectly into place with HInata.

*******************************************************************************************

Hinata glared across the roll of wrapping paper at the small puppy crushing the end of the tube, tearing edges of red and white striped paper with its sharp teeth. Hinata tugged it out of the pup’s mouth, but that only encouraged the behavior as it leapt forward to chew with more vigor.

“Can you grab your son?” Hinata waved the roll around, letting the Shiba Inu chase the end that Hinata held just out of reach. “He’s making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You paused your typing at the dining table and giggled at Hinata’s antics. After closing the laptop you jogged over to scoop the puppy up, flipping him over in your arms to rub its belly. The puppy let its tongue hang out and wagged its tail vigorously at the attention.

“Oh, Deku, are you giving your dad a hard time,” you cooed down at the puppy, lifting him to look him in the eyes with a furrowed brow. “That’s not very nice.”

Hinata rolled his eyes fondly at your pathetic attempt of scolding while Deku licked you on the nose. Just several months old and he already knew how to manipulate people with his cuteness.

“I bought our bullet train tickets,” you said while nudging him the roll of tape he’d started looking around for. “Natsu called me earlier. We decided that you and I should get there around 3.”

Hinata tore a piece of tape off with his teeth while he held the wrapping paper still around the boxed pair of rollerskates with his foot.

“We have to stop by Tanaka’s place before we head out,” Hinata wrinkled his nose at his poor wrapping job. “Noya’s visiting for a while and he wants to meet Deku.”

“Of course,” you smiled as you held a chew toy above Deku’s face so he could nibble on it in your lap. “We have some presents for Sayori, anyway.”

Oh yeah. You had split the present wrapping in terms of difficulty, so you had the pleasure of wrapping weirdly shaped toys while he was left with boxes. Somehow, his still turned out to be a disaster.

He could hear Natsu’s complaints already.

“The train doesn’t leave till one, so we should have plenty of time.” You stated once Hinata taped the final present, completing his small present tower. Deku wriggled himself free from your grip and immediately attacked the empty wrapping paper roll.

Hinata smiled absentmindedly as he watched Deku hold the tube still with his small paws as he gnawed the cardboard. He felt you crawl over, lying your head onto his lap as your eyes followed his to watch your dog-son together. He felt at peace, running his fingers through your hair while Deku wreaked mischief nearby.

He felt like he could never get happier than this, and he never wanted it to end.

“He really is a troublemaker,” you snorted as Deku dragged the tube across the living room proudly. “Gets it from you.”

Hinata rolled his eyes and pinched your cheek. “It’s because you let him do whatever he wants.”

“Do not!”

He chuckled, taking his time tracing your features. The curve of your cheekbones, the dip of your lips, the bridge of your nose-everything he’d kissed into his memory by now but still couldn’t get enough of.

Hinata’s heart burned bright as he ran his knuckles along your cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled softly, leaning subconsciously into his touch.

“I mean… I really love you, (Y/N).” Hinata grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “I think this is it.”

You met his stare for several moments before your cheeks reddened. “Oh.”

Hinata nodded, pressing a loving kiss to the back of your hand. “I just-I always want you with me and if it’s not you in the end then… then what’s the point?”

Your mouth fell slightly open and he felt your hand flex in his grasp. He assumed he made a mistake-said too much too fast-but his chest was so warm and full and it was hard to reign in his emotions when he got that way.

A smile blossomed across your face and it eased his anxieties when you held his cheek. “You’re it for me too, Sho.”

He blinked several times as the words rolled over in his mind. “Wha-really?” He twisted himself so he could look you in the eyes, begging for you to be telling the truth.

You nodded shyly, your face crimson. “Yeah. You have been. I’m not… I don’t think I’d be able to love anyone else ever again.”

It felt like he’d been hit by a train at your confession and he pressed his mouth against yours before he’d even processed the statement. Your content hum against his lips was enough to drive him insane.

“Well, I’m going to love you forever.” Hinata promised with a dopey smile. “So don’t even think about that.”

You snorted, but nodded anyway. Hinata glanced down at your lips again with hooded eyes and started leaning forward, but was rudely interrupted by a damp cardboard tube hitting his forehead.

He glanced up exhaustedly at the Shiba Inu puppy panting obliviously at the both of you, waiting patiently for the love and attention he knew he deserved. You pushed Hinata off to grab Deku, but he jumped into a play bow and jolted back when you reached for him.

Hinata smiled dazedly as you chased Deku around the apartment, juking around furniture to attempt to throw the puppy off-course. He had never felt so complete than he had in that moment because he realized that this was it for him.

It was you. It was him. It was a troublemaker dog. And it was a promise that you’d be together forever.

And that was pretty damn perfect.

#hinata shouyo #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata shoyo fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #msby black jackal #msby sakusa #miya atsumu #bokuto #kiyoko #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu x reader

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secretshinigami · 3 years

Text

Beyond Birthday's Day Off

Author: @ironblowtorch For: @pinkmalus Pairings/Characters: Beyond Birthday, A, L Rating/Warnings: Mature- Mentions of death and grief Prompt: Beyond Birthday’s Day Off Author’s notes: I really wish I had thought of a more creative title but that’s exactly what the fic is!! <3 I hope you enjoy, the idea was that B is trying to figure out his next steps in life after leaving whammys and he finds himself inspired to start his lifestyle as a killer! :3

Beyond Birthday had never been this alone in his life.

Well… no, that wasn’t exactly true. He was an orphan after all. He had spent his very early days alone, cold, seeing the world in red and numbers. He doesn’t remember much of his time before Whammy’s at all, and he curses the fact that his so-called genius mind never remembered the names above his parent’s head’s. If he actually thought hard about it, maybe he had always been alone, and now was no different. He did name himself, after all. A name so ridiculous there was no way anyone could have one like it, that was until the nicknames ‘B’, or worse “Backup” became his normal. Yeah… he definitely has been alone all along.

The saltly wind that suddenly smacked against his face brought him back to the present, reminding him that he was actually alone on the beach, as well as alone in life. He had just arrived in Los Angeles only hours after sneaking onto a mail plane from London. Unfortunately that was as far as his plan had taken him… he still had to sort out a place to sleep, food… and most importantly his revenge on L.

In all truth, he felt exhausted and overwhelmed. He was happy when he arrived to find himself so close to the ocean, a sight he’d never seen after a lifetime in the orphanage. If he let his mind drift to Whammy’s or any of the… events that happened this week he wouldn’t be able to keep it together much longer. And he needed to focus on his survival for now. Some genius he was! No plan, no future, no identity… no A…

B suddenly threw sand into the water with a shout. He needed to stop thinking. Turning away from the sunset, he started to make his way up the animal path he found hidden under the pier towards the beach. Instantly numbers and names started to swirl around him as he found himself lost in the crowds of people headed towards the water. With no direction in mind, he kept to the edge of the sidewalk with his hands tucked into his jeans. Unfortunately for himself, the only clothes he was able to smuggle with him were L’s standard of a white shirt and blue jeans. At least he managed some flip flops for himself.

Even with his California acceptable footwear he stuck out like a sore thumb here. Why didn’t training to become the next greatest detective include social skills? Maybe that takes away your deductive reasoning, like sitting normal, or eating a meal without sugar.

Beyond sighed heavily and shook his head at an attempt to clear his thoughts again. This was no good… he needed to find something to distract him… with no money it would be pointless to try and go into a store. He could try to steal, but he really wasn’t familiar with America yet… maybe his best bet was to look for someone whose time was running short… Perhaps he could crash in a dead man’s home for a few days?

He had been walking with his head down for so long that when he turned the corner and looked up he was greeted with the movie worthy view of the Hollywood sign! In all honesty, he was less impressed than he thought he’d be. But it did give him the great idea of something to do… he could go sightseeing!

Truthfully, he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had ever done something just because he thought it would be fun. Most of his life he was just mimicking L, or studying old cases and autopsies, or cheering up A… He deserved a day off! Beyond laughed to himself as he watched the sun start to disappear behind the rolling hills. Yeah, a day off from thinking about L would be long over-due.

~~~

The next day he awoke with a smile on his face, excited for the day ahead for the first time.

The night before he had managed to find a public library and used the computers and references to plan his entire next day! He told himself he would figure out food and shelter later, because for now he just wanted more excitement in his life. He wanted to do something just for him.

So his first stop at 11am was to visit the famous museum of death on Hollywood Ave! He stumbled upon the poster on a bulletin board in one of the seating areas, and felt like it was destiny. The museum held exhibits of past serial killer trials, autopsies from various diseases, endless animal taxidermy, and plenty of bones and weapons! It was perfect!

Beyond always felt that when looking at crimes as the detective, you aren’t focusing on the corpses or criminals often at all… it’s more about solving and deductions and justice… blah blah blah. Beyond thought crime and life meant more than all that. Death and life coexisted all the time, he could see it for himself with his own eyes. It had only been a week now since A had died, and for every second leading up to the moment Beyond saw his number drop to zero, they were together. Before it happened, there was no way for him to guess what zero would mean. Maybe a part of him knew, but… it wasn’t real until it was.

He felt like he needed to go to this museum as a way to place the grief that was holding onto him somewhere else for a while. Seeing the person you’re closest to die and knowing it… it was too much for him.

But at the same time he felt secure in his understanding and knowledge of criminal behavior… in fact his own heart was warming up to the idea of becoming one himself. So the museum felt like a great bridge from his past life towards his new one! His next chapter would begin today, B just needed some inspiration first.

On his walk there, he happened to pass by a candy store window, surrounded by people watching through the glass as they watched a man spin taffy. Beyond found himself getting lost in the art of it all along with the crowd of people, so much so that he decided to pop inside. As he walked the aisles he recognized almost all the brands from years of sitting behind L during lectures as he ate enough of the stuff to kill a small child in one sitting. The truth was, B didn’t have much of a sweet tooth himself. He thought candy was kinda pointless, all it did was coat your teeth in sugar then disappear. L swore it made his mind work better, but he also swore a lot of his weirdest quirks did that for him, and Warati let him do whatever he wanted anyway… Yeah. So candy was just another thing B resented about the detective.

He didn’t hate all sugar though. He used to think fruit salad from the orphanage cafeteria was the best side they ever offered. Why only eat one fruit when you could eat them all together at once, in a bowl? Fruits were high in sugar content as well, but at least you got fiber and healthy carbs from them!

Beyond started to feel a bit guilty as he realized he was going to leave a candy store, a place that should bring any sane person joy upon arrival- in a worse mood than when we walked in. But he didn’t see any fruit or snack that interested him at all… he started back to the door just before he spotted a display of local creations the owner had featured. He walked up and found himself smiling wide as he picked up a jar of locally harvested strawberry jam. This would do!

~~~

By the time 11 rolled around, Beyond had already eaten his entire jar of jam as well as figured out his sleeping arrangements for at least a few days! Just behind the museum he found an abandoned shipping storage container he could even lock up at night. He finally felt like he was doing something right in his life, as everything fell into place for his new life.

Well, almost everything. He was really hoping he would find his last missing piece in his future in this museum. Maybe they were hiring? Maybe he’d find some inspiration for a different line of criminal detective work? Only one way for him to find out.

The money he used from the wallet he pickpocketed at the bus stop was more than enough to cover his limited expenses for the next few days. The ticket for the museum was $13, which B felt was another sign he was going in the right direction!

As he walked through the gift shop and to the entrance, he noticed that it wasn’t crowded at all. The ticket lady did say it was strange to see someone, especially alone, on a Thursday… but he wasn’t complaining. She also warned him about the most explicit parts of the museum being a bit gruesome, and he made note of them to go to first. He could take as long as he needed without being distracted by lifespans!

He first wanted to check out the taxidermy animal room. Nothing too gory was in there and that was fine, he just had never seen taxidermy before! Or many animals. It was educational to learn that birds came in just about every size…

After comparing himself to the stuffed angry badger he excitedly hurried to the serial killer exhibit. Purely out of curiosity!!! B just knew that was where the best autopsy photos were! Along with actual explanations of the killers’ stories… well, at least the ones that were solved.

As Beyond stepped into the room his excitement was suddenly matched with the new grief he had as a part of him. B longed to be sharing this moment with A… When they were kids…how many nights had they snuck to the library just to look at photos of other places? How many drawings did B slip into their backpack, how many smacks to the head did B get… all of those moments combined couldn’t have added up to much. But they had meant the world to Beyond… He didn’t feel alone in those moments, A was the only one who noticed him as someone other than a copy of L. Now A was gone forever.

Beyond stumbled back to sit on a nearby bench as his heart felt heavier by the second. He swallowed hard and gripped onto the edge of the seat, trying to ground himself. He blinked his eyes and then noticed the name Bertha Marie Smith with a shorter than average lifespan stumble up to him in a panic.

“Oh, sir?? This room can be a bit much for most people! It’s alright, we have an exit to the lobby this way…” she reached out to help him sit up-

“Ha! What? N-No… excuse me…” B quickly stood up and moved away from her. “I’m fine. I just…. needed a moment. I’d like to finish my tour, if that’s quite alright.” He smiled and tipped his head and quickly turned the corner to avoid her.

Beyond Birthday was actually better than fine. In fact, before Bertha had come up, he had the most intense realization.

A was the only person who knew him as himself. A would be the only one to ever remember him. Who would remember him when he was gone? Who would remember A?

He looked around the walls scattered with information he had expert knowledge of. All these crimes… any crime really, he had been learning every strategy a killer could use since he could read. B had given up his chances of ever following the path they had planned for him, that life was long gone. So what was his chance of ever being remembered now? Hardly above zero. He was sure even L himself wouldn’t attend the funeral if he passed tomorrow.

So B decided maybe he was meant to be at this museum after all. Maybe… he could pull something off that couldn’t even compare to any crime the world had seen. Something even L couldn’t get to the bottom of.

He could have his very own exhibit here, at the museum! Maybe a whole room dedicated just to his case, something so unsolvable, people would talk about it for centuries…. He could be the world’s greatest criminal instead.

Beyond smirked and turned to enter the next exhibit, excited for this next chapter. After all, he was alone now, and nothing could stop him from redeeming A now.

One Day the Los Angels BB Murder Case would be written about somewhere, he just knew it.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #beyond birthday #a #a death note #l lawliet #ratings: mature #ironblowtorch #pinkmalus #Near's Bday Finale 2k21

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

Call if You Need Me - cth

part of nation of two

summary: We meet Petra and Calum. Two souls who keep running into each other. The beginning to a nation of two that brings Calum and Petra to realize how much they love the sun on one another.

author’s notes: Welcome back to Nation of Two! Thanks for your patience with this series! I’m very excited to be sharing this new version of it with you and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I do!

warnings: Brief mentions of sex

masterlist || request || read it on AO3 || next part

When Calum first met Petra, his life seemed to look brighter. Days were warmer and the birds sang a little louder whenever he walked outside. It was as if everything used to be in black and white and Petra brought the color. It was as if some higher power above Calum brought him to a random park in LA and his life was forever changed. He'd never seen her before, which wasn't hard to do since LA was filled with people and the chance of seeing her again was minute.

Okay, maybe that was a lie. Calum had seen her before. It was like fate had been playing jokes on him.

The first time he'd seen Petra, he didn't even know her name. She'd been ahead of him at the grocery store. She'd been unloading her groceries onto the belt, colorful fruits, and vegetables that made Calum's basket seem dull in color, the cashier and her both chatting over a drink Petra had been excited to try. Calum had been watching, and listening, to her absentmindedly. He'd stopped by to grab a few snacks and drinks before the band's slot at the studio began.

Calum liked her smile. He liked how she was polite and didn't interrupt the cashier when she told her about the other flavors of the energy drink that Calum was making a mental note about getting next time around. He also liked, and he might've chuckled he doesn't remember now, Petra's reusable bags which were a mix of tote bags that had different patterns on them. His favorite had to be the canvas bag that had been stamped with a drawing of a corgi with an umbrella.

Calum had never been one to approach people he didn't know in public, especially pretty women who took his breath away, so it was no surprise when he watched Petra walk out of the grocery store with her bags as he waited for the cashier to finish ringing up his groceries. He wouldn't even know what to say if he had gone after her. He'd probably just make a fool of himself and end up with flushed cheeks at the studio as he thought back on the moment. So with his snacks and non energized drinks in a plastic bag, Calum made his way out of the grocery store, his eyes searching the parking lot in hopes of seeing the woman with the bright smile and colorful groceries.

The second time Calum saw Petra, he thought he'd imagined it. His hands were full with his laptop, journal, and the iced coffee he'd been nursing all morning in the way of him opening the door to the record shop he was meant to meet Ashton at. Looking helpless, Calum tried to figure out the best way to open the door, until his savior showed up from inside the store.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there," Petra laughed, her eyebrows raising as she noticed the confused look on Calum's face, "Hands full?"

"Huh?" Calum mumbled as he looked at her in somewhat awe, "Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you," he chuckled before stepping into the record shop, his head nodding at her.

"Don't worry about it, have a nice day! They have really good records today," she said and waved, giving him a bright smile before she continued on with her day.

Calum would've been lying if he said he hadn't felt his heart race and his palms sweat as he talked with her. It might've even been embarrassing if he thought too much about it, how a short and polite conversation between two strangers could rile him up this much. But with a deep breath and another sip of the now watered-down coffee, Calum walked around the store, trying to find Ashton and wondering if he'd ever see Petra again.

"Oh, it's you again. Are you sure you're not stalking me?" Petra's voice broke Calum out of his gaze, her laugh warming his skin as he tried his best not to blush.

Calum was used to his fans following his every move. He was used to them knowing where he was before he even knew and it had gotten to the point where he'd rarely want to leave the comfort of his home. But this was just strange. In the past two months, Calum had seen Petra a handful of times. Since their initial two meetings, Calum had spotted her at the same brunch spot that Michael had taken him to on a sunny Wednesday. He'd also seen her at the beach when he'd taken Duke after a stressful studio session. It seemed like everywhere Calum went, Petra had beat him to it. And even now, as he'd stopped at the flower shop down the street from the grocery store, Petra was strolling through the aisles of vases that Calum just so happened to walk into.

"It would seem that way, huh?" Calum said with a nervous chuckle, "Guess we just keep on meeting,"

"Some people would call that fate, you know?" Petra teased, her eyebrow-raising as she stuck her hand out for him to shake, "I'm Petra."

"Petra. Nice to meet you again," Calum laughed and took her hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze as she shook them, "I'm Calum."

"Yeah, I know," she mumbled, her eyes widening a bit, "Shit no, that sounded creepy. I just meant that-"

"Are you sure you're not the one who's stalking me?" Calum asked, no malice in his voice, and the smile he was trying to hide gave way to his teasing.

"Haha. I'm just a fan of your work. Who wouldn't be, you guys are changing the music scene," Petra nodded and shrugged, her addicting smile once again blessing Calum's presence.

"I appreciate that Petra, it means a lot," he nodded, "So you're buying flowers for someone special?"

Petra laughed at that, her eyes looking past him before making their way back to meet his. Calum felt the familiar warmth that spread over his body whenever he'd seen her in the past two months, the feeling that something was meant to happen. Calum couldn't deny that she was beautiful, besides her smile that always seems to be on his mind these days, Calum found himself looking over her as well. Watching the way her curls bounced on her shoulders and the way her sundress seemed to match the warm weather and warmth he felt inside.

"Uh, no. Can't a woman buy herself flowers something?" she asked, "Are you?"

"Can't a man buy himself some flowers?" Calum returned, his chuckle soft as he shrugged, "I guess I should go pay for these then. It was nice to properly meet you, Petra,"

"Calum," she said with a nod, "Have a nice day. Maybe fate will have us meet again," she teased and with a wave, she was walking back down the aisle.

And Calum really hoped that this time, fate would be on his side.

"Morning," Petra's soft voice broke Calum out of his early morning thoughts, "Have you been awake long?"

Calum's head turned to the side, the breath he'd been planning to let go of getting caught in his throat as his eyes landed on Petra. Her room was the perfect representation of who she was. The plants that adorned the window left the smell of rain in her room almost constantly. The soft covers that Calum found himself under the majority of the time he'd spent with her reminded him of clouds. But his favorite part of Petra's bedroom was the giant window next to her bed which let the sunlight filter in and land on her in the mornings. She always looked ethereal in the mornings, her soft skin glowing under the sun as her curls covered her eyes. It was Calum's favorite way to wake up, with Petra by his side, her soft breaths against his shoulder. He loved waking up next to her almost as much as he loved falling asleep next to her, watching how the moonlight illuminated her as her thoughts drifted from coherent to a mumbling of words.

"No, just a few minutes, how'd you sleep?" Calum mumbled, sleep still evident in his voice as he cleared his throat to try and chase it away.

"Extremely comfortable," she mumbled, her lips pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder, "Slept next to the man I love, couldn't ask for anything better than that, huh?"

Calum's sleepy smile matched hers, his body turning onto its side so he could pull her close to his chest. It had been six months since Calum had bought her those flowers she'd been holding. Six months since he'd asked the cashier to slip the little white card with his phone number into the bouquet. Six months since Calum had picked up the phone on a sunny evening and listened to Petra tease him over the cheesy message he'd left her.

“Pretty flowers for a woman who deserves them, that’s pretty cheesy, don’t you think?” Petra had asked, her voice soft as Calum’s cheeks flushed. He’d been sitting on his couch, his hands sweaty as he tried to excuse the action but it didn’t matter, Petra had already fallen for him and his cheesiness, “You have a way with words, Calum.”

“Maybe I can make up for the cheesiness soon?” Calum asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he ran a hand through the curls that had been long for too long and ached to be cut, “Maybe I can take you out sometime soon?”

“I’d like that a lot,” Petra mumbled, hoping that Calum couldn’t hear her giddiness or the smile that was adorning her face, even over the phone, “Throwing fate into your own hands?”

“Of course, we have to do that at some point, don’t we?”

And after last night's confessions, when both were too lost in one another's bodies and lips to hold back their emotions for any longer, their night together went from a simple date to a confession of love. It was something that Calum had put off for so long in his life, something that he'd tried before and failed. Something that had broken him so badly he'd shut the world out for so long. But with Petra, loving her was nothing more than common sense. It was wanting her by his side and buying her pretty flowers whenever he passed by the flower shop. So when Petra whispered those three little words to him in between moans and kisses, Calum never hesitated to say them back because he'd known the truth for months. He loved Petra and she loved him.

And he couldn't ask for anything more. He loved Petra on her good days and on her bad days. He loved Petra when it was raining outside and her pout hid away the beautiful smile Calum had fallen for all those months ago. He loved her in the supermarket when they were the only people walking down the fluorescent-lit aisles in the late hours of the night. He loved her when they were in the darkness of his living room, talking into the morning lights about everything and nothing.

If you asked Petra, which her parents did a lot, she'd tell you the same things. That she loved Calum to the farthest galaxy and back. That the moon and the stars could never shine as bright as he did and that the sunlight on his golden-brown skin was something she could study daily. She loved Calum even if he preferred rainy days over the sunny ones she loved so much. Petra knew he'd been hurt before, that he'd hidden his heart behind a wall of ice and that it had taken a lot of time and working on himself to get to where they were. She knew that Calum could be like the bird his name was meant for, that he could get spooked and fly away at any moment. But Petra loved that even with all the fears and the doubts his mind gave him, he'd whispered how much he loved her the night before, his breathy moans in her ear as he confessed how he'd felt.

It was a sunny afternoon when Petra first saw Calum. He had his hands full and was struggling to open the door of the record shop that her friend had recently started working at. Petra had promised to stop by and maybe buy a few albums to boost her friend's sales for the day. She'd just finished checking out and was on her way out when she'd spotted him. She recognized him immediately, the pink pressed vinyl in her bag had his face on it, and so she opened the door for him. She liked his eyes, how they widened when he realized he wasn't going to have to drop his coffee or laptop on the ground in order to open the door. She liked the breathy laugh he gave her before walking into the store and the way her heart raced once she had walked back to her car and had a mini freak out over meeting one of her favorite artists. Had she regretted not saying anything else besides a joke? Of course, she had, she could've asked for a picture of even for him to sign the vinyl she'd just bought, but Petra had decided that if it was meant to be, she'd see him again.

"Oh, I don't know mom, it's weird! I've only seen him in passing! I've said maybe a handful of words to him and to make matters worse he's a famous musician who will probably never know my name," Petra huffed as she got back into her car after once again seeing Calum at the bookstore she visited every once in a while, "What if he thinks I'm just a crazy stalker fan?"

"Petra, darling, you're a beautiful young woman. He'd be a fool to those harsh things about you. Maybe you've already caught his eye and he's the one who's nervous to say anything to you." Petra's mother said over the phone, the evident noises of cooking in the background, "Next time you see him, you should talk to him. You can't get struck by lightning if you're not standing in the rain."

"Mom, that is the most terrifying metaphor you could've used. I hope you know that," Petra mumbled as she laid her head back against her headrest.

"I love you Petra, be safe," her mom chuckled, "Go dancing out in the rain for a change!"

Petra had known her mom meant well. She'd been living in LA for almost a year and she had yet to put herself out there. Sure, she had friends and her coworkers were always inviting her out to bar nights and social events. But Petra craved the attention of someone. She'd been single for years now and moving to LA had been a step towards changing that. She was meant to find herself and what she wanted to do with her life here. She knew meeting Calum in multiple places around this giant city hadn't been coincidences, she knew that fate had a funny way of playing with her and she was just supposed to take everything thrown at her with a grain of salt.

Petra smiled as she listened to Calum talk over the phone, he was chatting about the latest city the band was in. He'd been gone for a few weeks, living his life and playing shows every night. Sure, Petra missed him, she missed him like crazy every day whenever she woke up in an empty bed and when she ate breakfast alone. But she knew that Calum had missed being on stage and missed singing in front of a crowd. Even if that meant that Petra and Calum couldn't be together for a while, it'd be worth it.

"P, you there?" Calum asked, chuckling quietly, Petra could hear the smile in his voice, could see him leaning against the tour bus with that soft smile she loved so much, "Or did you disappear on me?"

"Sorry, yeah I'm here." Petra laughed quietly, "What were you saying?"

"I'm coming home, babe," Calum said happily, "We've got a break and I'm gonna fly out to spend time with you."

Calum was packing up his bag on the counter of her bathroom, the glass wall of her shower made him look like a blur. The warm water from the showerhead was hitting her body, soothing the aches from the night before as she listened to Calum talk about his most recent trip. Her eyes were closed as she massaged shampoo into her hair, but she could still picture Calum, his hands above his head, or playing an invisible bass as he told Petra about the moment he and the band knew they'd cracked the code on their latest single.

"So do I get a sneak peek of it?" Petra asked as she finished shampooing her hair, her eyes opening to meet Calum, who was standing next to the entrance of the shower.

"You wish," he laughed and shook her head, "Gotta wait until we have the master done, lovebug."

"Ugh, I thought dating one of your favorite musicians meant you got to listen to new music first?" she mumbled in fake annoyance, her hands moving to splash Calum with water.

"Oh you're gonna pay for that one," he laughed and before Petra knew it, Calum's arms were wrapped around hers and the water was splashing them both.

"You're supposed to be packing, dork. Can't leave if you don't have a suitcase packed," Petra mumbled against his lips, her thumb stroking his jawline.

"Stop revealing my plans, honey," he whispered and pulled her into another kiss, "You forgot an important part of my plan though."

"Oh yeah? And what would that be, Dove?" she asked quietly, the familiar nickname bringing a redness to Calum’s cheeks, and smiled as she followed a water drop that rolled down his forehead to his jaw. It rolled down slowly, almost as if it too was taking its time enjoying the feeling of Calum’s skin against it.

"You're coming with me. Taking you home with me this time."

taglist: @hoodhoran @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop @notinthesameguey @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood @in-superbloom @ashtonsunflower @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe

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radiodread · 2 years

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yet another thing to absolutely BREAK us: uenoyuki beach scene. holy fuck.

tbh I think ue would feel even more guilty over yuki's death, because the fight they had would've, in part at least, started from him losing his temper. and just because of how violent that argument would've been, he probably would've said a lot of hurtful things and felt so guilty for them

re: kasai1 i 100% agree that mafuyu wouldn't take her shit the way ue does. he would probably just tell her to shut up before he even really processed what she said and what the implications of that are. and the conversation ue has with her later on straight up wouldn't happen with mafuyu. he is not that nice.

this also means that yayoi had to know, to some degree, about ue and yuki. which means during the arc where mafuyu plays support for SYH (and trust me I'll talk about that more) if ue told her that mafuyu was playing with yuki's old band/finishing one of yuki's old songs (if he knows about that at all) she would immediately know what that means to him. and probably offer to go kill mafuyu.

the idea of mafuyu quietly admitting "I don't want to hear him sing about his ex" is fucking HILARIOUS to me. tonally it'd probably be similar to when he admits to akihiko that he doesn't want to see ue play support in canon.

this means uenoyama and ugetsu friendship also?? which is VERY interesting. like idk how that would even work because they are SO different. ugetsu would probably really piss ue off because of how cryptic he is but he'd probably still have a lot of respect for him.

getting back to all of the hiirashizu stuff... just everything about that would be so interesting, like you said, because they're both completely different. shizu would indeed be even more apathetic towards yuki and ue, and hiiragi wpuld be really pissy about the fact that he thinks shizu liked yuki. the entire dynamic of those four would be flipped on its head with ue in the mix, because he'd clash with both hiiragi AND yuki almost constantly. really the only way to get even CLOSE to the dynamic mafuyu and hiiragi have is with shizu, because with how apathetic he comes off in general he'd be the only one who would tease ue without a fistfight ensuing lmao.

and as for mafuyu playing support for SYH, the whole issue of fhat bringing up past trauma stuff would get resolved a LOT faster if the roles are swapped. mafuyu would realize the effect it might have on ue a lot earlier, if not from the start, since he doesn't get blindsided by music the way ue does. likewise ue might not stay silent about it like mafuyu does, or at least not for as long since his temper would boil over. unless, that is, he stopped himself from arguing with mafuyu because he was afraid that would push him further away like it always seemed to with yuki, or worse; that something like the fight he had with yuki would happen again.... and oh wait it might not actually be resolved as fast as I thought.

mafuyu might actually bring it up with ue (especially since shizu would draw his attention to it like he does in canon), but ue might get cagey in an attempt not to blow up at him and risk losing him like he lost yuki...

good lord there's so much there

that one bit about yayoi actually got me thinking.... if she's hanging out with haruki, and goes to the same uni as him and akihiko, then haruki might actually already know ue before the story starts. even if they haven't actually met beforehand, he'd probably be able to put together who ue is based on the name and how similar he looks to yayoi. so they'd already be connected.

and now I'm just thinking.... yayoi watching ritsuka suddenly pick up yuki's guitar and start learning to play, and then hearing that he's joined a band, and then watching him play that song for yuki... how would she even feel? knowing that he's been going through that much pain but was never able to let her in, didn't know how to say it before he started screaming it on stage. watching him as he starts to look more and more like the person that broke him every day. what the hell would that feel like?

why is this au even more angsty than the actual show

Answer under the cut!

Oh no. Oh no, the beach scene.

“You might remember this someday when you randomly start humming that weird song.” “I’ll remember even if we don’t spend another five minutes here.” “Nah, you’re definitely gonna forget. You might remember this next year and in five years, but probably not in ten.”

... considering the fight they would have and how explosive it would be, two days before Yuki died, Ritsuka would absolutely remember. 😭

I agree: Mafuyu wouldn’t be that nice if Ayano told him those rumours about Ritsuka, and he wouldn’t that easily forgive her the way Ritsuka did, what with the conversation Ritsuka and Ayano had when they went to throw out the rubbish. Mafuyu probably wouldn’t even offer to help with that to begin with. 😬😅 Also hahaaaa yep, Yayoi would absolutely offer to kill Mafuyu for Ritsuka if he told her about that SYH collab thing, what with all that it means to Ritsuka with Yuki. Ugh. Also can I just say that a friendship between Ritsuka and Ugetsu would be VERY interesting to see? Yes, like you said I’m also sure Ritsuka would be pissed off by Ugetsu’s sometimes cryptic answers to stuff and how he’s a very harsh and honest critic (imagine Ritsuka’s reaction to Ugetsu telling him “yeah that sucked” after Ritsuka played a bit of the song he’s been writing 😅), but Ritsuka would respect the hell out of him knowing what Ugetsu does for a living and how freaking talented he is. That would be a hilarious but interesting dynamic for sure.

Indeed, the whole dynamic with the childhood friends which would then be Ritsuka, (Yuki), Hiiragi, and Shizu would be another hilarious thing to see because Ritsuka would clash with Hiiragi constantly no matter what universe they’ve stumbled into. No I agree, I also think that this whole debacle with Yuki’s song would be resolved A LOT faster in this AU considering how Ritsuka indeed tends to blow up when things go too far. I mean, just look at the way that classroom argument went, what with Ritsuka being salty about Mafuyu spending so much time with Akihiko. The same thing would probably happen here too where he says “so you’re spending a lot of time with Shizu and Hiiragi, huh” and Mafuyu just wouldn’t know how to explain it, but Ritsuka sure as hell would start barking about it and that would force Mafuyu to speak up way sooner. (I would much prefer this version tbh- canon is........ taking way too long to resolve that issue. :X)

AHH. Indeed, there’s so many possibilities of a swap like this and it’s SO INTERESTING. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, now it’s pretty much all I think about and the possibility of it becoming fic is defnitely on the table. 😂

#given #answered #half of twelve is six #given character swap AU

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

bangtan host club ❯ part i

❯ pairing: ot7 x reader

❯ genre: ouran au, college au, crack, smut

❯ summary: when you had decided to take summer lessons at your college, you hadn’t factored in the impending presence of seven insufferably attractive and arrogant boys… the bangtan host club.

❯ word count: 2.1k

❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive language, terrible pet names, excessive dramatics

❯ banner by: maggie @kimtaehyunq

a/n: while this fic is loosely based off of the anime version of ouran highschool host club, it is set in university - meaning that all of the boys are of age (at least 21 years old)

host club members

❯ Kim Namjoon as “Kyoya Ootori” ❯ Kim Seokjin as “Tamaki Suoh” ❯ Min Yoongi as “Takashi ‘Mori’ Morinozuka” ❯ Jung Hoseok as “Mitsukuni ‘Honey’ Haninozuka” ❯ Park Jimin as “Hikaru Hitachiin” ❯ Kim Taehyung as “Kaoru Hitachiin” ❯ Jung Jungkook as “Haruhi Fujioka”

Taking summer classes had never been on my agenda, my studies having been mapped out in detail since the day I arrived on campus three years ago. And then the university’s president suddenly has this utterly groundbreaking epiphany and adjusts the curriculum to “ensure that all students will leave Bangtan University well-rounded”.

Screw that. My ass is already well-rounded enough, thank you very much.

But despite my best efforts (i.e. begging President Kim to make an exception followed by crafting a petition that gained over ten thousand signatures), I have found that there is no avoiding the dastardly new physical education requirement. And since my schedule for my upcoming senior year has been planned and set for literal years, I’ve been forced to enroll in the sole summer physical education class offered at Bangtan University - Introduction to Weight Lifting.

I wish I was kidding.

To say that I am dreading the start of class tomorrow would be an extreme understatement. I’ll be lucky to escape this summer without physical injury or the loss of my dignity. Athletics have never been my strong suit, and I’ve only entered our campus gym to go to the smoothie bar.

Groaning at just the mere thought of working out and being graded for it, I trek down the streets of outer campus towards the library, swearing under my breath and sweating profusely.

It’s a blazing hot, blue-skied Sunday in July. Typically, I would be lying on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand, soaking in the warmth of the sun with joy. But instead, here I am, sweltering and desperate for air conditioning after my ancient window unit wheezed its final breath last night. The comfortable chill of the library is my only hope aside from my landlord who promised to fix my air conditioning by tomorrow.

My frustration builds as I turn onto the block lined with imposing and picturesque estates in which the upper echelon of Bangtan University resides. I’d bet the very last ice-pack in my freezer that these houses have unfailing central air.

I pick up my pace, worn Doc Marten platform sandals slapping against the hot pavement. The pristine mansions seem to mock my distress as they exude the coolness of unbothered wealth. Despite there being no Greek life here at Bangtan University, the lack of letters emblazoned on the numerous estates I pass does not symbolize a lack of status.

This block is home to the athletic teams who throw massive parties whenever they happen to be in the off-season. It’s also home to the legacy clubs - the exclusive groups of current students who are relatives of past alumni.

And last but not least, this block is home to the infamous Bangtan Host Club, a small group of idle rich boys with exceptionally good looks and a penchant for entertaining.

The aforementioned group’s house comes into view as I draw nearer to campus. The host club’s mansion sits on the corner lot right across the street from campus. Typically, students are wary of such proximity - but not those boys. No, they’re un-phased, throwing massive parties every weekend without fail and without repercussion.

During my first semester, I had been confused as to why their parties had never been shut down; but now I know better. The host club’s president Kim Seokjin is the son of none other than the fucking president of the university - the very same man who damned me to my weight lifting fate.

In fact, almost the entire host club is related to someone with influence - either at the university or within the surrounding community. The only exception to the wealth factor is Jeon Jungkook, who attends Bangtan University on a scholarship not unlike myself.

About 99% of the university are host club stans. As for me? I don’t subscribe to that bullshit. And I do mean literally ‘subscribe’. They have newsletters, merch and everything. I would say I don’t understand it at all, but a small part of me does.

They’re fucking gorgeous. Like I’m talking Tom Ford at New York Fashion Week gorgeous. Armani catalogue centerfold gorgeous. Goddamn Sports Illustrated Men’s Swimsuit Edition gorgeous.

In fact, I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin actually does model in his spare time. With his long limbs, broad shoulders and pillowy lips, Seokjin certainly has the features for it. My freshman year roommate bought so many posters of Seokjin from the host club’s merch website I think I could identify him from a hundred yards away in the dark.

“Hey!” The bellow emanates from the porch of the host club’s house and jolts me from my memories, “Hey, princess!”

I let out a snort. Whoever that pet name is directed at needs to shut that down immediately. I mean, ‘princess’? In this economy? Please. I need off this block ASAP.

“Hello? I’m talking to you, angel!”

The voice sounds closer now, and my eyes squeeze shut. Oh god, this person cannot be talking to me, can they?

Princess? Angel?

The sheer absurdity pushes me onward, and I do not spare a single glance in the direction where the inane greetings originated. Alas, I barely make it two feet before a tall figure screeches to a halt in front of me, panting like he had just run a marathon.

I blink as I take in the very boy who just crossed my mind a minute earlier. Kim Seokjin looms over me, chest heaving and smile gleaming.

“Cupcake, hello!” his smile grows wider, “Why didn’t you answer me? I was talking to you.”

My brain is trying to wrap itself around the unfathomable phenomenon I’m currently witnessing. The host club president is beaming down at me like I’m the last custom Rolex ever made. His white t-shirt that probably costs more than my rent stretches across his shoulders in a way that has to be illegal.

A bead of sweat drips down my back between my shoulder blades. I don’t have time for this attractive detour; I only have time for a long sip of iced water and a seat under an air conditioning vent somewhere deep within the recesses of the quiet library.

“Were you?” I shrug, looking over his illegally broad shoulder and plotting my escape, “I didn’t realize, considering my name isn’t princess, angel or cupcake.”

I inwardly cringe at my tone. I have a tendency to be irritable when the weather is hot, and it seems like today is no exception.

Seokjin stares down at me, his cocky expression wavering for a split second before snapping back into place. “Well, tell me your name then, sunshine, so that I may cordially invite you to the host club’s latest summer extravaganza!” His dark brown eyes sparkle as he remains seemingly impervious to my building ire, beaming down at me.

“No, thank you,” I shake my head decisively and attempt to sidestep around him.

None of my friends are on campus for the summer, and there is no way I'm going alone to a party full of strangers. That just screams bad decisions, just like the time I willingly ate the dining hall’s “Mystery Meat Special” during my second semester.

Seokjin cuts off my path yet again, and my scowl intensifies as I glare up at him, “Could you move, please?”

Seokjin gapes back at me, “D-don’t you want to come to our party?” I stare at him with eyebrows raised. He continues at a higher decibel, “Don’t you know who I am?”

The nerve of this boy. My eyes scrunch shut as I send a quick plea to anyone out there in the universe to send me patience and then internally count backwards from ten.

“Yes, I know who you are, Kim,” I finally say, completely exasperated, “And no, I still don’t want to go to your party.”

Seokjin is gobsmacked, looking like he’s seen a ghost as he stands before me open-mouthed. For a second, I allow myself to indulge one more time in his attractiveness, my eyes wandering along his toned torso, his muscular arms, his high cheekbones, his messy brown hair.

And then he bounces back, snapping his fingers, “Aha! I know what this is. You’re playing hard to get! Okay, I can play along with you, sunshine.”

It’s my turn to gape at him this time, watching as he mumbles to himself about how I must want him to beg for me and how he would just love to do so. I’m about to put a stop to this madness when he spreads his arms wide and announces loud enough for the entire block to hear, “Sunshine, please, attend our party! My heart longs for your presence, and I will only be happy if I can have your arm in mine next Friday night...”

I’m honestly beginning to worry about the boy in front of me. Is he completely unhinged? Am I being Punk’d right now?

Seokjin prattles on, “So, my sun, my moon, my stars, will you please do me the honor of joining me for a night of fun courtesy of the host club? No guest has yet to be disappointed and—!”

I finally just reach up and cover his mouth with my palm, steadfastly ignoring how plush his lips feel against my skin. “Kim Seokjin!” I hiss, “I promise I am not playing hard to get. I simply do not want to go to your party. Now, please, for the love of god, let me walk by you in peace.”

Loud bursts of laughter sound immediately after I finish speaking, and I whip around to locate the source. Two boys jog over to where Seokjin and I are standing on the pavement. Their laughter doesn’t subside with their approach. If anything, it grows louder.

“Oh, come on, pres,” the pink-haired boy who I know to be Park Jimin jeers, his melodic giggles punctuating each word. “Is this how you plan on handling your first rejection?”

My eyebrows pull together in confusion as I turn to face Seokjin, only to find him lying dramatically on the lawn in front of his house with one arm throw over his face.

“Go away, Jimin,” Seokjin groans, ripping out a handful of grass and throwing it at the other boy. Obviously, he doesn't calculate for the wind and sputters when the grass blows back in his face.

“Boss, you’ve really hit a new low,” the blue-haired boy - Kim Taehyung - grins as he looks back and forth between me and the over-the-top performance happening on the lawn. All Seokjin does in return is flip Taehyung off, seeming to have learned from his grass-throwing lesson.

Well, there’s no need for me to stay a second longer within this realm of crazy.

I turn on my heel and head off towards the library, renewed in my desperation for the relief of blissfully cold air.

Alas, I don’t get too far before the two boys with colorful hair are in front of me - each with an arm thrown over the other’s shoulders.

“Well, well, well… I must say,” Taehyung drawls.

“You’re quite an intriguing little thing,” Jimin cocks his head, looking me up and down. I try in vain to steel myself against the heated assessments both boys are giving me.

I’d heard a lot about these two - most of it being completely outlandish and borderline unbelievable. Do they really do everything together?

It’s as if that thought is written all over my face as the smirks grow on the faces of Jimin and Taehyung. “If you don’t want to come to our party for Jin-hyung…”

“Will you come for us?” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s thought, and I am almost certain that he intended for that question to be as suggestive as it sounded.

Before I can even attempt to answer, Seokjin launches up from the ground and barges in between the two boys. “Yah! That is no way to speak to a lady! Have I taught you nothing? Don’t you fools remember lesson number fifty-two on being a good host?”

“We didn’t say anything inappropriate, pres,” Taehyung shrugs, looking pleased with how riled up the older boy is growing. His pink-haired counterpart grins, “If anything, you’re the one with the dirty mind, twisting our innocent words into such filth.”

It’s as if Seokjin is struck by lightning - his shock turning him pale as a ghost before the redness overtakes him. I cannot tell if it’s due to embarrassment or anger. All I know is that I need to bounce.

When Mt. Seokjin finally erupts, I slink away and practically jog across the street to campus. Ah, free at last...

a/n: this is part one in my host club series! originally i was going to make this a giant one-shot but i figured i would just break it up into smaller pieces so that i could get some content out uwu

#bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #kpopuniverse #ksmutclub #kwritersworld #networkbangtan #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts

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marie-in-the-hallway · 3 years

Text

Watermelon Sugar pt 1

wc: 2.3k

warnings: minor sexual content, swearing

...

Jenna doesn't know how her life came to be like this.

She was a good person; she had partied hard in uni, yes, but she studied hard enough to make up for it. She's nice enough to leave at least a twenty percent tip every time she gets the check, and certainly nice enough to drop coins in the tip jars of the baristas who make her coffee. She calls her mum a lot and she loves her sisters and she takes good care of her plant, a cactus she'd named Steve. She’s hilarious and witty, her friends love her, and she makes a decent enough living.

So it doesn't explain why she's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of her.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. One right now, in fact: Camille Rowe. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Jenna’s sex dreams since she was about eighteen.

(What can she say, she's consistent. The kid might change her look every few years but the libido wants what it wants. Or something.)

Anyway, the point is that, currently, Jenna is looking straight into Harry's gorgeous green eyes and she can feel the heat of Harry's body radiating onto hers. She can also feel one of Harry's soft curls brushing against her forehead, and she knows that if she looked down, she'd see Harry's pink lips, quirked amusedly, like Jenna is something of a particularly endearing animal.

In summary, Harry looks like something straight out of Jenna’s masterbating vault, and Jenna is especially thankful at this moment that she does not have a cock because it would be hard as a rod at this very moment.

"Do you, uh, work out a lot?" She blurts out, her mouth temporarily disconnecting from her brain, and she watches as Harry blinks, his long lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbones.

There's a pause, and then she hears a snort.

"Is this a dating show, mate?" Nick Grimshaw, the twat, says, half-laughing from his seat at the radio console. He raises his voice in a poor imitation of Jenna, stuttering out a ‘do you, uh, work out a lot’ in between his giggles.

Jenna turns her head to look at him and scowls. "Shut up," she says, trying to ignore the cute way Harry is giggling on top of her. It doesn't really work, but at least she tried.

Nick raises his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm bringing us back on track. You're supposed to be asking him questions about his new album, not asking him if he works out. You're tiring out the little pop star there."

"Nah," Jenna hears Harry's low voice drawl from above her, and she turns her attention back to the hot boy on top of him. "`m not tired yet. Besides, I'm kind of enjoying the view." He shoots Jenna a cheeky wink, and Jenna feels her face flush.

"Okay," she says loudly, mostly for the benefit of herself. She vaguely wonders how red she looks on camera, and whether or not she can get the ground to swallow her whole right about now. Maybe she should retire after this. Radio 1 would just have to look for another person who won't choke in the vicinity of Nick's hairspray fumes.

Every day at one to four pm, Nick and Jenna host "The Future is Now", a radio programme where they play music, talk about celebrity gossip and tease each other. It's supposedly nothing special, just two childhood friends making fun of each other and making fun of celebrities and their drama and occasionally talking about football, but apparently their banter has made it the most popular rated programme on BBC Radio 1. So popular that a few months ago, their producer sat them down and told them to "come up with more shenanigans", an order Jenna was happy to comply with. Her and Nick have then proceeded to do almost everything, from innuendo bingo with a twist to organizing a huge water fight in Radio 1.

Their latest shenanigan is interviewing their celebrity guests in the weirdest way they can, and last time Nick had interviewed Taylor Swift through trying to interpret her answers through drawing. It was massively funny, a huge failure, and also very exhausting, according to Nick, because who knew that Taylor was such a terrible artist?

Which is also why it's Jenna’s turn to do the interviewing this time.

However, she's ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Nick did this on purpose. Drunk Jenna might have let it slip a few weeks back that she has a not-so-small crush on a certain very famous Harry Styles, and Nick, because he was apparently close friends with Harry, invited him to plank over Jenna.

Jenna’s going to light a match near his hair and watch his twatty quiff burn down.

"Okay," Jenna says again, because no matter how much she wants to go back in time and ensure Nick was never born, Harry Styles with his hair and his dimples is still above her, smiling like it takes no effort to plank like this at all. He's the most attractive man Jenna has ever seen in her entire life. "We're going to have a quickie--" and she resolutely ignores Nick's sniggers from the console and the way his face heats up, "--which is like a lightning round of questions, until you feel you need to lower yourself down or until the timer runs out. Alright?"

Harry nods at her, grinning even wider, and Jenna decides to pin her focus on Harry's left dimple so as not to be distracted by the rest of his face.

"Nachos or Tacos?" She asks, starting the game immediately.

"Tacos."

"Red or Blue?"

"Blue."

"Favorite emoji to use in a text message?"

"The tongue and the peach." Jenna ignores the almost-obscene way Harry says it. She also ignores Nick's snorts from the table. She can do this. She just needs to ignore the way she’s wet from this small interaction and get this done like the professional she is, before she can go home and masterbate herself away to oblivion.

"Favorite song from your new album?"

"Um," Harry says, and Jenna feels his forearms shift from where it's beside her head. "Watermelon Sugar?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Jenna asks Harry's left dimple. See, she can be normal.

"Watermelon Sugar." Harry repeats, much firmer. "It's about oral sex."

Jenna’s eyes fly off Harry's left dimple and into his eyes. "I don't think you can say that on radio."

Harry just shrugs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Sorry."

"Cheeky," Jenna mutters, before plunging on. "Most important feature of your ideal girlfriend?"

"I don't know if I can say it on radio," Harry shoots back almost immediately, his smile widening.

Somewhere from his place on the radio console, Nick cackles. Jenna hopes he chokes on his own saliva.

"Something radio friendly, then," Jenna answers, keeping her voice level.

"Well," Harry drawls out, seemingly lost in thought, "I'm much more of a bum kind of guy," and Nick's cackles get louder and louder. "I like a nice, firm, handful of bum. But if it has to be radio friendly, maybe the smile."

"I'm going to get suspended because of you," Jenna deadpans.

"`s the truth." Harry smiles innocently. He shifts on his forearms again, and his long curl brushes over Jenna’s eye. His cross necklace also falls out of his shirt, brushing against the hollow of Jenna’s throat. "Do you like bums, Jenna?"

"I like mums? I like my mum," Jenna says absently, half blinded by Harry's curl. She feels more than hears Harry laugh from above her, his abs quivering from above her body. Which, hey. Why is Harry laughing at her? She’s just trying to keep this show together, for the sake of her job and her listeners and because Nick is a useless idiot.

She clears her throat. "Ideal date?" She asks, blinking her eye against Harry's rogue curl. She focuses on it, tries to get it off her eye with just the power of her blinks and her eye lid muscles. It doesn't really work.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows above her, and Jenna feels a slight sense of dread settle against him.

"A walk on the beach, then a candlelit dinner, then back to my place--"

"Favorite hobby?" Jenna interrupts, because she cannot do this. She can't. She’s two innuendos away from being soaked through her pants, and she’s positive there will be a wet spot if Harry continues to imply vaguely sexual things.

"I like to bake," Harry answers easily, as if he wasn't on the verge of saying obscene things a few seconds before. Jenna hates him. Jenna also kind of wants to suck his dick.

"Last thing that made you cry?"

"Um," Harry furrows his brow and bites at his bottom lip. Jenna can't stop staring. "I...fell?"

"Fell where?" Jenna asks.

"I was getting out of the shower," Harry answers slowly, still seeming deep in thought. Jenna tries not to imagine a naked Harry, with little droplets sliding down his skin. She mostly fails. "Then I, like, slipped and fell. There were a few tears."

Jenna makes a noise of sympathy, her eyes glued to Harry's lips. "What did you hurt?"

"My bum."

That makes Jenna tear her eyes away from Harry's lips and into his green eyes, which are already shining with mirth. "What is it with you and bums?"

"I told you, I'm a bum man." Harry winks. He shifts on his forearms, and Jenna realizes that the planking must already be taking a toll on him. He doesn't seem close to giving up though, and Jenna admires his determination. Her sex drive admires the rippling of the muscles in Harry's forearms and the strength of his core.

"You seem to be a little bum crazy to me."

"Heyyy," Harry says, a cute little pout making its way onto his face. "Only for certain bums. The nice ones."

Jenna doesn't answer. "Favorite app on your phone?"

"Instagram."

"Last photo you took?"

"It was, like, a photo of my sister's dog in, um, space buns."

"Space bums, nice," Jenna says, because she can. She might get suspended from radio for a few days, but she's already aroused on camera and they've been talking bums since a while ago, so.

"Yep," Harry says, playing along. "They were out of this world."

Jenna opens her mouth to ask another question when her phone starts ringing, signalling the end of their quickie. Harry unceremoniously drops himself down, his entire body now in contact with Jenna’s own. Jenna can feel her skin heat up from where Harry's touching her, their entire lower half aligned. She shifts in surprise, discovering Harry’s (not so) little problem, so Jenna just. Speaks.

“Did you know the average whale penis is ten feet long?”

She wonders if she can probably retire gracefully and run away to Guam.

Nick is still cackling like a madman but ten times harder. Jenna doesn't think he's even stopped to take a breath since he started.

Good, she thinks viciously. Maybe he'll run out of oxygen.

"I did not," she hears Harry whisper to her, his voice almost drowned out by Nick's laughter.

"Fuck," Jenna whispers, without opening her eyes. "Leave me here to die." She can't believe she ended up here, embarrassed and horny in front of the guy she's been wanking to since she was eighteen. She doesn't think life can get much worse than this.

"It's okay, you know, I blurt out things all the time" Harry whispers, his breath ghosting over Jenna’s face. "Also, you're not allowed to say ‘cock’ on radio."

Oh, so now he's concerned about radio content. What is Harry Styles.

"Please do not try to make me feel better about this," Jenna says through her teeth, ignoring his second statement. They're going to get taken off air because of this interview, anyway. She raises an arm to cover her eyes. "Just....ignore it. Please."

Harry, because he's nice, doesn't say anything anymore, instead pulls himself off of Jenna, so that he's sitting on his knees beside Jenna on the carpeted floor. Jenna takes three deep breaths before she opens her eyes, sits up, and runs to the radio console, where Nick is still cackling obnoxiously. She lets Nick take care of the goodbyes, shakes Harry's hand once and refuses to meet his eyes, and doesn't say anything until Harry has left the room and Watermelon Sugar is playing on air.

"So?" Nick hedges, nudging Louis with an elbow. "That was fun right?"

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep," Jenna answers, glaring. "That was fucking humiliating."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Nick says, dismissively, wrapping an arm around Jenna’s shoulder. Jenna wants to saw it off his arm.

"You're not the one who started talking about whale cock in front of like, three cameras," Jenna hisses back at him.

"You could barely hear it anyway," Nick says, rolling his eyes. He pinches Jenna’s shoulder, waggling his eyebrows . "But Harry, eh? That was some intense flirting you had going on there."

"Nick," Jenna says, deadpan. "He's not single. You should know this, he's one of your best friends."

Nick frowns, but before he can open his mouth to say something, Jenna beats him to it. "Never mind him. He's probably going to get us suspended anyway, with all his obscene answers and talk about bums."

Nick cackles again, with his head thrown back. "That was pretty funny."

"Yeah, well let's see how funny it is when we get taken off air for a week straight," Jenna answers, rolling her eyes, before reaching over to queue up the next song.

Nick, the twat, just keeps laughing.

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