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inairbinad · 10 months

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Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire! (7)

Now Complete! | Explicit Part One | Part Six | Read on AO3

warnings: none. just a fluffy little epilogue.

A few days after their first date—first everything—Steve and Eddie decided it was probably time to resurface long enough to actually socialize with other people.

Technically, only Robin and Nancy knew that he and Eddie were officially dating now. But Steve knew well enough that between Dustin’s big mouth and the fact that neither Steve nor Eddie had shown their faces anywhere but at work for several days, everyone in their little group had to know by now.

Not that Steve minded. He wouldn’t mind putting out a newsletter about it, actually, he was so fucking happy.

Especially when he kept getting to eat breakfast with Eddie every morning. Or Steve got to eat, at least, and Eddie usually watched while they talked.

It was sickeningly domestic, and Steve absolutely loved it.

“So we’re telling them we’re boyfriends, right?” Steve asked around a mouthful of toast. He considered torturing Dustin a little and pretending they were still dancing around it, just for shits and giggles. But Steve was pretty sure he was too enamored with using the word boyfriend to really get away with such a deception for longer than a minute or two.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hummed softly, not bothering to hide his own satisfied little smile at the thought. Steve had to brush his toes against Eddie’s leg under the table just to do something about how cute it was.

“What about the levitating thing?” Steve asked, unsure if Eddie wanted to keep that just between them. Eddie’s best guess about why it happened was that he was literally so happy he could fly, and Steve wasn’t exactly eager to dispel that notion in any way. Which is exactly what would happen if that became Dustin’s newest “problem” to solve.

It didn’t seem like Eddie was all that enthusiastic, either. He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before responding.

“I’m really not quite ready to be the flying monkey again, Stevie,” he sighed. “They’ve just started getting used to the new me, anyway. No need to go adding extra oddities to the mix.”

“That’s fair,” Steve agreed, but felt the need to clarify one worry that was written all over Eddie’s face. “But you know everyone’s still gonna love you, flying or not, right?”

Eddie huffed out a soft little sigh, like he did know that deep down, but he had needed to hear it anyway. Then the corners of his mouth twitched up in a teasing grin that made Steve’s heart sputter.

“Oh yeah? Everyone?” Eddie asked, holding Steve’s gaze until his face felt hot from the implication. Eddie didn’t make him sweat it out for long, though, and deftly moved back to the point. “If Dustin finds out about the floating thing, he’s gonna want us to recreate the initial circumstances, for science and shit, and he’s gonna want to watch.”

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathed out, realizing there was no way on earth Eddie could start feeding from his neck again in front of anyone without it being an embarrassing disaster. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Eddie crowed, then slipped his hand up Steve’s thigh beneath the kitchen table and squeezed. “We can always practice figuring it out on our own.”

God, Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, with a surprised jolt Steve realized he didn’t have to quash that impulse anymore. So he leaned across the table with a smile playing at his lips and waited for Eddie to meet him halfway.

Despite days of Steve practically hanging from Eddie’s lips every chance he got, sometimes Eddie still got this little surprised look on his face when Steve moved in to kiss him. On the one hand, Steve wanted Eddie to know deep in his bones that Steve always wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to show his affection in a million ways big and small until Eddie didn’t question it for a second.

And yet.

The little quirk of Eddie’s brow when Steve would start to tip his face to the side, or the sparkle in his eye that read something like again?, and really?, and lucky me, drove Steve absolutely wild. Part of him hoped Eddie never stopped.

Steve didn’t think it’d be a bad thing if neither one of them ever lost a little bit of the wonder at being each other’s, out of all the other people in the world.

Steve relished in that same sparkle for a moment as he nudged his nose against Eddie’s. “Let’s just not fly too high, yeah?”

He really never tired of making Eddie laugh, especially not when he was close enough to feel it, or to see the mirth that lit up his eyes.

“Deal, sweetheart.”

Eddie finally brushed his lips against Steve’s in a soft promise that might’ve been enough to send Steve flying out into orbit anyway.

— — —

A couple of hours later, Steve was lazily lounging on a floatie and trying to catch some sun before the gremlins arrived, while Eddie read a book in the shade nearby. It seemed only fitting that they have another day by the pool, considering how this had all started.

Soon enough, Steve’s peace was thoroughly disturbed by the sound of Dustin’s screeching reaching his ears. Steve bolted upright and turned towards the racket, confused, until he noticed literally everyone standing around the edge of the pool and staring at his chest.

His chest that was littered with bites, bruises, and scratches, all on full display as he sunbathed.

“Oh my god,” Robin said, just barely containing a full-on cackle. When even Robin was staring at his chest with wide eyes and a tilt to her chin, Steve knew he had to be a sight.

Steve nearly felt embarrassed—but not quite. This was his house, goddamnit, and he’d show off that Eddie was his boyfriend now as much as he damn well pleased.

“Get it out now,” he sighed as he paddled over towards the edge of the pool to climb out. Steve looked over to see Eddie’s reaction, only to find he was very determinedly hiding his face in his book.

“I knew it,” Dustin squealed, practically bouncing. Steve didn’t think that was a particularly impressive claim, since Dustin had been the one to set it up, but he shrugged it off as everyone else chimed in.

“How are you not dead?” Mike asked, and Nancy did the honors of pinching the back of his neck in response. “What? It’s a legitimate question!”

“Max, you’re staring,” Lucas pointed out, and Max shrugged him off without averting her eyes for a moment.

“So what? We all are,” she said, completely unbothered.

“Not like that,” Lucas argued as Steve finally got out of the pool and dried off. He wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Lucas himself was very much staring in the same vein as Max, since he was trying to stay humble.

“Dude, that’s true love right there,” Argyle said to Jonathan as much as he did Steve. It was the first thing that made Steve actually blush, so Robin took it as her cue to swoop in and shut down the commentary for now.

“Steve and Eddie are happy, yes?” she asked, looking between them. Eddie finally peeked out from behind his book and gave Robin a blinding smile and a thumbs up. Steve just nodded as he swooned a little. “Right. Then let’s be happy for them and try to act civilized.”

“Thank you, Robin,” Steve shot her a grateful smile that she returned in kind. Then he moved over to sit on the same chair as Eddie, folding himself between Eddie’s legs until his back rested comfortably against his boyfriend’s chest. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle, and Steve raised his eyebrows at everyone in a challenge.

No one was cowed, though. Dustin lit up like the sun itself, and the rest of the kids broke out in a chorus of “fucking finally”s while the older teens just gave Eddie and Steve looks of sympathy and happiness in equal parts.

“That went about as well as we could have hoped,” Eddie muttered in Steve’s ear.

Steve had barely hummed in response as Dustin came and plopped on the chair beside them.

“You could at least say thank you,” he grinned.

Steve twisted around enough to look at Eddie, who gave him a sheepish smile in return when he said, “Spoke too soon.”

“Hey, we helped!” Erica called Dustin out immediately, gesturing towards herself and El. Steve already knew that El was involved, but Erica too?

“How did you help?” Steve asked her, cutting right into whatever argument Dustin was teeing up.

“Tina’s brother was the one working the Ferris wheel,” Erica shrugged, and Steve tensed just thinking about being stuck up there again. Eddie squeezed him a little tighter, probably to help Steve remember they were on solid ground just as much as it was to keep Steve from shoving Erica, Dustin, and El into the pool over it.

Erica didn’t seem bothered by the queasy look on Steve’s face, and explained further. “I threatened to send pages of his journal to his crush if he didn’t let you all dangle for a while after El stopped the wheel. Now Dustin owes me a favor.”

The devious glint in her eye almost made Steve feel bad for Dustin. Almost.

“You little shits,” Steve grit out, somehow both impressed and irritated at their dedication. “I’m scared of heights!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten on the Ferris wheel then?” Mike chimed in, and Eddie snorted.

“What happened to leaving them alone?” Jonathan asked calmly. Steve wanted to kiss his forehead.

“I just think I deserve a little credit!” Dustin said. Robin came over to shoo him out of his chair so she could take it for herself, and by some miracle Dustin complied. Steve still wondered how the hell she got him to do whatever she wanted.

“Then so do we,” El affirmed, backing Erica up. “And so does Murray.”

“Murray?” Nancy perked up, more interested now. “What does he have to do with it?”

“Dustin called him up and asked for matchmaking tips weeks ago,” Lucas filled Nancy in. Apparently everyone was privy to Dustin’s plans, and had been all along. Steve didn’t know why he was surprised.

“Is that who you were calling sir over the radio?” Steve asked, the puzzle pieces finally slotting together. “For your ‘project?’”

“Yep,” Dustin beamed, still standing over them while everyone else dispersed to either the pool or their own chairs.

“So you didn’t really come up with any of those schemes on your own, then?” Eddie asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“I did so!” Dustin squeaked. “All Murray suggested was getting you two alone where you couldn’t avoid each other. Preferably in small spaces, and maybe to encourage some friendly competition. But I did the rest!”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Eddie hummed. “No one but Henderson would’ve come up with the linen closet story.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dustin challenged, and Steve didn’t really want to rehash how he’d fallen for the nasal spray excuse.

“And our dinner?” Eddie asked, trudging right along. “Did you know it was gonna storm?”

“Of course I did,” Dustin scoffed. “What do you take me for, an amateur?”

“And I assume El was why the power went out?” Steve sighed.

“Actually, no,” Dustin laughed, obviously proud of himself. “But she would have been if it hadn’t gone out on its own.”

Steve twisted around to give Eddie a look. “I told you so.”

But Eddie had a much more horrified expression on his face, and it took Steve a second to realize why. If Dustin had waited around to see if the power went out, that meant he could’ve seen…

“Wait,” Steve grit out, feeling like his whole body was about to erupt into flames. “How long did you wait around and watch?”

“Just long enough to see you kiss!” Dustin defended himself. And while Steve would admit that was a mildly relieving answer, it still left him thoroughly mortified.

“You little creeps just stood around in the rain to make sure we kissed?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding much squeakier than usual.

“We had raincoats,” El shrugged.

“I needed to be sure you had it covered, Steve,” Dustin said in his most condescending tone. “You weren’t exactly taking initiative!”

Steve didn’t know how Eddie escaped that particular critique, but Steve wasn’t really sure he could stomach any more of this conversation long enough to ask. He felt like he’d just dodged the most appalling bullet of all time—and one that probably would have ruined his sex life at that.

“If I say thank you will you shut up about it? Forever?” Steve asked, completely exasperated and unwilling to hear any more bragging from the little shits.

Eddie turned into Steve’s shoulder to hide a laugh. Even after days of not taking their hands off of each other, little things like Eddie’s breath on his skin still had Steve feeling all mushy.

“Yes,” Dustin said simply.

“Thank you, Dust,” Steve and Eddie both said in unison. Then Eddie added, “Now shoo. Go play with your friends.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning as he walked away.

Their peace only lasted about three minutes.

“I know I said we’d drop it, but…” Nancy trailed off, glancing between Eddie’s face and Steve’s neck and chest. “Does this mean we can stop our clandestine trips to the blood bank?”

Steve snorted, imagining Eddie and Nancy driving a getaway car full of bagged blood, but he could feel how Eddie tensed behind him.

“Uh, maybe less frequently,” Eddie half-mumbled. “Still not trying to kill my boyfriend.”

“Hey,” Steve turned his head to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m fine, okay? No guilt, please.”

Eddie’s lips twitched every time Steve said please, he noticed, so Steve might’ve been tossing the word around a little more than usual. He figured it couldn’t hurt to be polite.

“That reminds me. I got you something,” Robin perked up and started rummaging around in her tote bag. Steve and Eddie alike leaned forward, trying to get a peek at what she was doing. “Aha! Here.”

Robin held out a large, rattling bottle for Steve to take. He pinched his eyebrows together in confusion as he read the label. “Vitamins?”

“Iron supplements,” Robin said. Steve wasn’t sure how she managed to look both playful and stern about it, but she pulled it off with ease. “Take two every day so you don’t get anemic.”

Dustin apparently found this hilarious, which only set off a chain of everyone else snickering in appreciation at Robin’s gift. Steve hadn’t even realized anyone else had even been paying attention to them, but he couldn’t muster much more than an amused eye roll over their antics. Even Eddie chuckled lightly before pressing a soft kiss into the bare skin of Steve’s shoulder, which made it all that much easier for Steve to refuse to be embarrassed about this, too.

“Thanks Rob,” he said with a genuine smile.

“Oh you’ll thank Robin without issue,” Dustin said, which set Erica and El off again at demanding he stop taking all the credit. With the kids bickering again, Robin leaned in further so only Steve and Eddie could hear her.

“You should probably start eating more salads, too. Leafy greens in particular,” Robin suggested. When Steve just scrunched up his nose at her in reply, she sighed. “It won’t kill you. Might even make you taste better.”

Steve felt his bare chest flush, especially when Eddie’s grip on him tightened just a fraction as he huffed out another laugh. Steve powered through it anyway, shooting Robin a smirk. “I’ve heard I already taste pretty damn good, Robs.”

Eddie’s quick bark of a laugh came with an enthusiastic nod, and now it was Robin’s turn to look disgusted.

“Please don’t ever tell me that again,” she said, even though she was the one who brought it up in the first goddamn place.

Steve just leaned further back into Eddie’s arms and gave her a smug look.

“‘Pretty damn good’ doesn’t touch it, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured in Steve’s ear, too low for anyone else to hear. Then, quick like a cat, Eddie licked a stripe up the side of Steve’s neck until he reached Steve’s ear, and gently nipped at the lobe. It sent a shiver down Steve’s spine as he mentally cursed Eddie for making him want with such ease, and in front of everyone else.

“Eds,” Steve warned over his shoulder. “Not again.”

“What?” Eddie said, voice dripping with faux innocence. “I didn’t even make any popsicles today.”

Steve leaned his head back against Eddie’s shoulder, groaning as much as he laughed. It was going to be a long summer, and Steve couldn’t wait to dive in.

Yeah I definitely have more Vamp!Eddie ideas so. Stay tuned.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #fanfic #dani's drafts #steve's got a date #vampire!eddie

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stargazer-sims · 8 months

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Journal Entry #56 (part one)

Journal Entry #55 (part two) // STORY INDEX

Yuri

Hello everyone.

I feel like it's been forever since I've recorded an update, or since I've recorded a sensible one, at least.

I'm more than a little embarrassed that I ended up posting my last one. Sharing it hadn't been my original plan, and my only excuse is that I uploaded it in a moment of poor self-control. Maybe I just wanted someone to feel as sorry for me as I was feeling for myself, or perhaps I thought it'd make me feel better to scream into the proverbial void.

In any case, I'm sorry.

Am I feeling better? The answer to that is complicated.

I assume Victor has told you about my G-tube? Once I didn't have any more pain from the surgery and my incision began to heal, I really did start feeling better physically. I'm able to be up and around for several hours at a time on most days, and I'm getting some of my strength back.

I'm not supposed to do anything too strenuous until my incision is fully healed, but I can do light housekeeping tasks like dusting furniture, washing dishes, and folding laundry, and I can manage all my own personal care now. I can finally give my poor neglected skin and hair the attention they deserve, and as soon as I'm up to it, I'm going for the most expensive and luxurious spa day anyone could possibly imagine. Manicure, pedicure, therapeutic massage, aromatherapy bath, facial... everything. Victor's already teasing me about it, naturally, but I don't mind.

Once I came home from the hospital after my surgery, Victor and I both got used to our new routine in practically no time at all. I was worried that Victor would be upset and stressed by the whole thing, and perhaps he was for the first day or two, but he seemed to relax when he realized how well I was coping.

Honestly, I've surprised myself a little with that. In the hospital, the nurses taught both Victor and me everything about the use and care of my tube, and I think at that point we all assumed Victor would be helping me tend to it a majority of the time. But, as it happens, I've been doing it almost entirely on my own, and it's... liberating. Yes, that's definitely the word. It's empowering to take charge of something, even if it isn't particularly important to anyone but me.

Usually, I have my formula while Victor eats, so we still share mealtimes. I can still eat and drink the usual way, so we enjoy our tea together as well, and sometimes I'll even have a small bite of whatever Victor's having. He's not allowed to feed me any more, though. The rule is that if I want to taste some of his food, I have to feed myself.

That may have been the most difficult adjustment for both of us, actually. We were put to our first test only a couple of days after I got home, when Victor made himself a fruit salad to go with his sandwich at lunch.

If I had to pick a favourite food, strawberries and peaches would be tied for top spot, and I'll confess, it was the aroma of the freshly cut strawberries that got me. That, and watching Victor handle chopsticks with his non-dominant hand. He made it look so effortless, and I marvelled at how quickly he'd mastered using them with his right hand.

The only thing at the table more beautiful and appealing than those plump, red strawberries in my husband's fruit salad was my gorgeous, talented husband, and I couldn't take my eyes off either one.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're not eating," Victor commented. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at me, strawberry-laden chopsticks raised halfway to his mouth.

"What?" I stammered. "Why?"

"Because," he said. "You look so distracted, you'd probably drop half the stuff you tried to pick up."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You okay?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm just looking at your, ah... your strawberry."

Victor laughed out loud at that. "Mr. Okamoto-Nelson, are you trying to flirt with me?"

I could feel heat crawling up my neck and over my face. "Well, no. Not really. I'm literally looking at your strawberry. Could I... can I have it? Please?"

He flicked a glance down at the strawberry caught between his chopsticks, as if he was considering my request. Then he said, "Sure, you can have it," and reached across our tiny dining table toward me.

I started to lean forward out of habit, imagining he'd just pop the piece of fruit into my mouth. And then I remembered.

Victor must've realized at exactly the same time I did, because he abruptly drew his hand back. He dropped the strawberry onto the now-empty plate his sandwich had been on, and slid it across the table toward me with a murmur of, "Sorry."

The moment was jarring, and I almost changed my mind about eating the sweet fruit, but then I told myself that it wouldn't be polite to reject it after I specifically asked for it. I lifted my own chopsticks, thankful that Victor had the foresight to set out a pair for me, and plucked up the strawberry.

"You can do it," Victor said, his voice soft, as if I were engaged in some sort of contest and he didn't want to break my concentration.

I put the strawberry in my mouth, and I think I might've been close to tears with how intense the flavour was. I'm not sure why, but maybe it had something to do with not having performed the physical act of eating for well over a week. Without meaning to, I made a sound that was... Suffice it to say, it was the sort of sound Victor typically hears from me in a room other than the kitchen.

Victor was gazing at me with interest. "Okay, then. I guess you really were looking at my strawberry."

"Mm-hmm."

He pitched his voice low, and in a tone far too seductive for lunchtime on a Wednesday, asked, "Did you like it? Wanna do it again?"

I lost it, and my laughter must've been contagious because for the next minute or so, Victor and I could barely catch our breaths. My stomach was hurting by the time we both calmed down, but despite that, I felt good. Better than I'd felt in weeks, in fact. And I did eat another strawberry, which earned me a kiss from my husband who tasted slightly of strawberries too.

And before you ask, yes. 'Looking at one's strawberry' is now a playful inside joke between Victor and me, a euphemism for something entirely unrelated to fresh fruit.

Since then, I've eaten other foods, but for the most part I'm happier just to have my formula. The goal is for me to be able to eat normally and independently without the tube in the near future, but we're going to work up to that. For now, I only have to put food in my mouth when I'm comfortable doing so, which admittedly, isn't all that often. Honestly, it's been a huge relief not to have to worry about eating. It's taken an enormous load off me psychologically, which allows me to focus on other things.

There are plenty of other things to focus on. As relieved as I am not to have to struggle with food for the time being, my tube isn't a miracle cure for all my problems. There are still times when I don't want to do anything at all, even though I know I'm capable of it, and I still go to bed some nights vaguely hoping it'll be the last time.

When I feel that way, I tell Victor about it, and he does his best to reassure me. I didn’t want to talk about it with him at first, didn’t want to burden him, but I remembered what Mama had told me about keeping secrets. “A marriage can’t survive too many secrets,” she’d said, and I decided I needed to do my part to protect the bond Victor and I share, even if what I had to do would be hard.

It’s still not easy for me to open up about some subjects, but it’s getting somewhat less difficult with time and practice. I don’t think I could do it at all with anybody but Victor. He knows me better than anyone, and I trust him.

Oh… and since we’re on the subject of trust and sharing confidential information, I should probably finish telling you about my nutrition rehabilitation therapy, shouldn't I? In addition to working with the nutritionist and Dr. Kasongo, I've started seeing a psychologist, and believe me when I say that component of my therapy is not my idea of a good time.

There's no sense in mincing words; I hate it, and I don't think it's doing much good. Victor would likely say I need to give it a chance, considering that I've only been to two sessions with the psychologist so far, but I'm not certain I really want to.

As Victor might say, I'm not going to lie. I don't like the psychologist. He makes me uncomfortable and reminds me vaguely of my high school physical education teacher. That teacher was the sort of person who'd laugh and make fun of a student for not being able to catch a ball or for always finishing last in races instead of encouraging them and showing them how they could do better.

The psychologist gives off that same energy. I'm afraid to tell him my deepest thoughts. I don't trust him and I don't want to be judged by him for my anxiety and fear of something as inherent to life as eating. I'm not sure he'd even understand it anyway. Very few people do, but at least some try to, and those are the people I'd rather allow into my private life.

But, regardless of my feelings about the psychologist, I've resolved to keep seeing him because Victor really wants me to, and I don't want to disappoint him. It'll only be for a couple of months anyway, just until our move. I'm sure I can endure an hour a week with the man till then, and perhaps once Victor and I are settled in Willow Creek, I'll be able to find someone I actually like and who I might be able to build some trust with. I mean, I do understand the point of psychological therapy, and I might be willing to work at it if I thought I was being supported by someone who cares about my well-being.

If I could pick my ideal therapist, it wouldn't be a man. I'd choose a woman, preferably someone around my mother's age, and perhaps with a soft voice like hers as well. She'd be someone I could feel safe with, and who I might eventually start thinking of as an honorary auntie, if that makes sense. I don't think that's too high an expectation, do you?

But, enough about that. Besides my ongoing health issues, a lot has happened since the last time I was able to record a journal entry, and I'm not even sure where to start describing it all. I know Victor has been keeping our journal up-to-date, so perhaps I'll just hit the high points of what's been going on since his last entry.

I suppose the most significant bit of news is that Victor and I are officially uncles. Our nephew Kinai was born a week ago, on the fourteenth of March. He entered the world eight days past his due date, for anyone who cares about that sort of thing, and according to my mother, he's a very big newborn at 4.1 kilograms. Apparently, that's nearly three times as big as me when I was born. Mama says I was only 1.4 kilograms, which probably isn't all that surprising, considering I arrived dangerously early. She used words like 'solid' and 'thriving' to describe Kinai, which I'm sure are descriptors that never would've been applied to me during my first days of life. I was probably 'fragile' and 'high-risk'.

Personally, I couldn't care less how much Kinai weighs, how chunky he is, or whether he's got Hana's nose or Ren's ears. My plan is to stay as uninvolved as possible. If you want the truth, I'm quite literally repulsed by anything that has to do with my sister Hana and her deplorable boyfriend Ren, and although I know it's not Kinai's fault that he has monsters for parents, I really don't have any interest in interacting with him in any case.

Victor knows how I feel, but we only talked about it once because I don't think it'd be very nice of me to keep bringing it up and dampening his enthusiasm. He's thrilled about being an uncle, and I love seeing how excited and happy he is. I don't want to take that joy away from him.

Victor has already been to my parents' house to meet Kinai, and I think he fell in love with him at first sight. My parents are absolutely smitten with their grandson too, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you how Auntie Yuki is taking the situation. She's positively over the moon.

As for Hana, she was quick to flee as soon as she got out of the hospital. Initially, we thought she might try to cause trouble over Mama and Papa's intention to seek an order for custody of Kinai, but she shocked us all when she said it didn't matter to her who took him, as long as she didn't have to deal with it. Our parents had already engaged a lawyer, and she was able to draw up some sort of document for Hana and Ren to sign that effectively stated they relinquished all custodial rights to Kinai. I don't think Mama and Papa even needed to go to court at all.

According to Yuki, our resident source of family gossip, Ren's parents didn't object to our parents getting custody of Kinai. I figured it was because the judge and his wife are quite a bit older than Mama and Papa and they didn't want to take on the responsibility of raising another child at this point in their lives, but Yuki had a completely different theory.

"Know what I think, Yuri?" she asked. There was a conspiratorial little gleam in her eyes that can only be produced by a precocious ten and a half year old who thinks she's more clever than most of the adults around her.

Our parents had dropped Yuki off earlier that day, to have dinner and spend the night at our place. She was standing on a step-stool at the counter, watching me prepare my formula, while Victor was at the other side of our small kitchen cutting up chicken and vegetables to make stir-fry for her and himself.

"What do you think?" I responded.

"I think Ren's parents didn't want Kinai because they don't really believe he's their grandson," she said.

That was an angle that hadn't occurred to me. It obviously hadn't occurred to Victor either, because he set his knife down and turned in our direction. "What makes you think that, Yuki-chan?" he asked.

"Because," Yuki said. "I overheard Papa talking to Ren's father about a DNA test. I watch television. I know what DNA tests are for. And I know for sure it was Ren's father Papa was taking to because he called him by name."

"So, you think your dad wants Ren and Kinai to have a DNA test to prove whether they're related or not?" Victor said. "You think Judge Kitagawa's gonna go for that?"

"I think it was the judge's idea," said Yuki. "I think he wants to make Ren do it."

"Talk about legal drama," Victor said.

I don't think there'll be much legal drama on that front. If the judge is serious about wanting to prove Kinai's paternity, Ren isn't going to have much say in the matter. I'm not closely acquainted with Nori Kitagawa, but I do know him well enough to say with confidence that I wouldn't dare to disobey an order from him. Ren may be thuggish and stupid, but even he isn't dumb enough to contradict the judge when he means business. Plus, Ren can't run or hide from him now.

If anyone were to ask me, I think the real legal battle might come from that American couple with whom Hana and Ren had been trying to arrange the so-called private adoption. Yes, the people who wanted to name the baby Arrow. I'm sure Victor has told you all about that. Of course, it's just speculation on my part. I have no idea how the American family might react. We'll have to wait and see.

I may not know anything for certain about my parents' potential legal troubles, but something I can tell you about is the tangled mess Hana is in. The judge was not inclined to be dismissive when it came to the theft of his vehicle and credit cards and his wife's expensive jewellery, nor was Uncle Kaz well pleased about Hana breaking into the home Victor and I have been renting from him. It's no secret that Mama and Papa are making her take full responsibility for her actions, and that they aren't going to try to pull any strings on her behalf. We all know that taking responsibility isn't something Hana excels at, and I think she ran because she's ashamed to face any of them.

Currently, none of us knows where she is. It's safe to assume she hasn't left Japan because the police still have her passport, as far as I know, but she's definitely not anywhere in the town of Mt. Komorebi. She's got a handful of serious criminal charges against her now, and my guess is that she's with friends in Kyoto, probably trying to concoct some sort of scheme to get out of the legal nightmare she's created for herself.

Before I move on from the judicial updates, there's even more news that I'd be remiss if I didn't mention. We may not know Hana's whereabouts, but I'm able to say with satisfaction that we know where Ren Kitagawa is. He is in jail, which in my opinion is exactly where he belongs.

Ren's trial for assaulting Victor at the fitness centre was supposed to have started on the twenty-eighth of February, but due to Victor's accident and our concerns that he wouldn't be well enough to go to court and testify by then, the court agreed to push the trial date forward until the first week of May. We agreed because we really didn't have much choice, but that date gave Victor and me just as much anxiety as the February one did. We're leaving the country on the fifteenth of May and we were worried that any further complications in the process would interfere with our move.

In the end, fortune must've been on our side. The very day in February that the trial was originally scheduled to begin, Victor received a phone call from someone at the office of Kensatsu-chō — the public prosecution service — who told him that Ren had decided to change his plea to guilty. They explained that the matter would proceed directly to sentencing, which was scheduled for the tenth of March, and they asked if Victor and I wanted to be there. Victor told them no. Neither of us had any desire to make a trip to the district court in Kyoto for that.

We found out later that Ren was sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. Papa speculated that he probably won't serve the entire time in a jail cell, but that he'll be let out about a third of the way through and then spend the rest of the time on supervised release. From what I understand, that's basically house arrest. At this point, though, I don't even care. Victor and I will be long gone before he gets out, and we'll be far enough away that he'll never be able to hurt either of us again.

I thought I'd have a completely different set of emotions upon learning that Ren is locked up and being punished for what he did. I imagined I'd feel vindicated, that I'd be happy and excited and in a mood to celebrate, but that's not how it was at all. The moment we hung up from that phone call, I just clung to Victor and cried because I was so relieved.

All I remember about the following few minutes was Victor holding me as tightly as he could with his one good arm and murmuring into my hair, "It's all right, Yuri. The worst is over. We're going to be okay."

I might not have been able to believe that before, but each day I'm finding myself a little more hopeful that the worst really is over. I don't expect my life to be perfect, or even what most people would call normal, but I'll happily settle for being okay.

#writing #victorsworldadventures #yuri okamoto #victor nelson #tw chronic illness #tw therapy #tw justice system #stargazersims

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evil-ontheinside · 1 year

Text

Byler Week Day 4: Summer Love

Mike knows stargazing is supposed to be romantic.

Everyone says it! Movies, songs, people, ask anyone and they’d tell you: Oh, you want to do something romantic with your boyfriend? Have you tried stargazing, perhaps?

Well, maybe Mike hasn’t actually talked to anyone about it. It’s not like he can actually go up to people and ask for date activities for him and his boyfriend. Not to mention that it would feel like cheating anyway.

Now that he had prepared everything and they’re actually doing the stargazing and all---including midnight snacks and blankets and everything, he watched a lot of movies in preparation for this---Mike can’t help but think that there should be more to this.

Lying outside in the dark while it’s still fairly warm is all nice and well but Mike is ready to fall asleep at this point and Will sounds like he’s already halfway there. And if they fall asleep now, they’re going to wake up outside to old Patrick yelling at them to get off his lawn, ignoring the fact that this hill is not in fact his property and the severe lack of lawn.

And if they don’t, the sun will probably scorch their skin off before they get woken up by literally being burned alive. And how is Mike supposed to explain to anyone that he managed to give Will severe burns without looking like the biggest asshole ever if he can’t mention that this was supposed to be a very romantic date that he planned for literally two weeks every day and practically drove himself crazy with? Not that he wants Will to get sunburned to begin with! Will got burned more than enough for a lifetime, and he wouldn’t want Will hurting in any way, shape, or form if he can prevent it.

But he can hardly wake Will up now, not when he looked really tired earlier and told him that he didn’t sleep well last night. Even if Mike is getting a little cold after he gave all the blankets to Will who looked cold earlier and Mike can’t have Will be cold on a date that he planned, Mike would rather die than see Will shiver next to him.

Also, Will looks really comfortable, which is unusual because, for some reason, Will always sleeps in very strange positions when Mike is around. They haven’t had too many opportunities to sleep in the same room since they got rid of all the supernatural bullshit they had to deal with but every time it did happen, it looked like Will might break his neck any second. One time, he even managed to slide halfway off the bed they were sharing---which was a whole different kind of nerve wrecking---and Mike had to hold onto his arm and drag him back up so he wouldn’t hit his head on the floor. And then Will gave him a black eye with his elbow and started freaking out when he woke up the next morning (that part was actually kind of funny but Mike still couldn’t open his left eye for two whole days).

Though Mike’s arm started to go numb a good ten minutes ago with Will’s head lying on his shoulder and upper arm and also kind of crushing the rest of it with his weight. But if Mike had the choice between letting Will sleep and losing his arm he wouldn’t even have to think about it. He’d cut his arm off if Will needed to hug it to get some decent sleep.

…

Mike can’t help but scrunch up his nose in disgust at the image. Why on earth is he thinking of Will cuddling his cut-off arm?

“Mike.” Huh. Maybe Will isn’t as asleep as Mike had thought. “I can hear you think.”

“Sorry.” Mike tries to clear his head and fails miserably. The image just won’t leave his head and also drags some other images out of the debts of his memory that he would like to forget about now if possible. Will squeezes his hand a few times and suddenly his thoughts are back to Will. For the first time in two months, their hands together don’t feel sweaty and he doesn’t hate the warmth that transfers from Will’s skin to his.

Summer is the worst.

“Don’t apologize,” Will says and shifts onto his stomach and off Mike’s arm to take a look at Mike’s face. He must see something he doesn’t like---is it the freckles? It’s probably the freckles. They’re so much worse in summer and they’re everywhere. Mike remembers trying to scrub them off his face in second grade and wishes he had tried harder---because he frowns and drags Mike’s arm up from beside him to squeeze his hand again. “What’s wrong?”

For some reason, Mike’s eyes tear up at the question. He stares determinedly up at the sky and threatens them in his head for a few seconds before he takes a quick look at Will and looks back to the stars.

“Summer is horrible for relationships,” he says, which isn’t quite what he meant to say but decides is true enough. Summer sucks because it’s hot and sweaty and even sitting close together is too much most days and even at night, Mike finds things to complain about.

Will smirks, amusement in his eyes, and Mike is ninety percent sure he knows what he’s going to say next. “Are you sure? Your face told a different story when we went to the pool two weeks ago.”

Yep, he knew it.

“Shut up.” Mike mumbles and threatens the heat on his face just like the tears from earlier. He’s less successful this time and Will grins at him with glee. Mike could point out that Will had reacted much the same when Mike had let himself be dragged toward the water and out of the protective shadow of a tree but he already ruined the day enough, Will can tease him all he wants.

But Will’s face sobers up too soon and he pokes Mike’s cheek two times, prompting him to talk.

“This date sucks.” Mike wants to take his words back when he sees Will frown again.

“Why? I think you did a great job.” Will drags some of the blankets over Mike while he talks and shoots Mike a look when he tries to drape it back over Will’s shoulder. He folds one arm over Mike’s chest and rests his elbow right next to Mike’s ribs on the blanket. Mike wants to poke at Will’s cheek when he rests it on his hand, so he does.

Will smiles and bats Mike’s hand away.

“It’s too hot or we’re too tired or we’re not alone and this date could’ve been so much better and now I’m making it even worse by complaining.” Mike takes a deep breath and watches Will’s arm rise with his chest. Will smiles, eyes fixed on the skin just underneath Mike’s eyes before he starts to trace a finger over Mike’s cheeks. His smile grows a little, maybe it wasn’t the freckles after all.

“Remember date number seven?” Mike does but Will doesn’t give him time to answer. “We got soaked in the rain and you got almost hit by a tree during the storm and I started crying because I thought I ruined the whole day after I almost poked your eye out with a spoon.”

Mike tries not to grin too wide at the memory because looking back at it, and even in the moment itself if he’s being entirely honest, Will’s face in the moment had been hilarious. Until he started crying of course, because Mike hates when Will cries.

“You had to comfort me for ten minutes and you said that I couldn’t ruin anything no matter how hard I try. I don’t think a little heat is going to ruin a whole date for us.”

Will’s face looks calm and happy, even though the only thing that separates them and the hard ground is a thin blanket and he’s still brushing a finger over Mike’s face and his wrist must hurt a little where his head rests on his hand.

“You sure?” Will nods and brushes his fingers over Mike’s eyelids.

“Yep. Now go to sleep. I got us covered.”

Mike opens his eyes again when he feels Will shift and chokes on a laugh when Will pulls a whole alarm clock, batteries and all, out of his bag and places it above their heads.

“You brought an alarm?” Mike almost can’t get the question out between the mixture of laughs and coughs and Will grins his widest grin yet.

“I knew it would come in handy,” Will says and Mike calls bullshit immediately.

“Of course, you did.”

“You think I’m lying?” Will challenges and raises his head to look down at Mike from above.

“I think you’re full of shit.”

Will laughs, loud and unrestraint and maybe they should keep a little quiet if they don’t want to invoke Patrick’s wrath in the middle of the night but Mike couldn’t care less.

If he gets Will laughing like this, can the day really have been that bad?

Mike watches as Will buries his face in Mike’s shirt to smother his laugh and not wake up the whole of Hawkins.

He watches as Will’s shoulders shake and he rubs a hand over his eyes to wipe away tears of laughter.

He watches as Will gifts him his biggest smile and decides that the day could’ve been a lot worse.

@bylerweek2023 thank you for organizing this event and week and you put so much work into it! And your tags were so nice to read, so thank you so much for doing all this! <3

#I wanted to write something for the last day even if it wasn't about soulmates #my original idea for this day will get written! someday #thank you Vee for asking me what I think about summer when I was thinking of what to write for this day #I only thought about the worst things about summer which inspired this summer-hating Mike #don't ask where the alarm clock came from. this was funnier in my head but now it's written and I won't change it anymore #thank you again for organizing this week! I had lots of fun writing and watching :)#bylerweek2023 #day 4: summer love #byler #stranger things #writing

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 63: Hair

After the war, after his eighth year at Hogwarts, after training to be an Auror, after quitting that soul-sucking job, and after accepting the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, Harry started to let his hair grow out. It wasn’t intentional at first, not really, he was just unbelievably busy teaching. But after a few months, his hair, which had always had a mind of its own, had grown long enough that the wavy-curls brushed his jaw.

He'd looked at himself in the mirror one morning and heard his Aunt Petunia's voice in his head, scolding him and telling him that only girls had long hair. He told that voice in his head to fuck right off and kept growing his hair out.

Not that it mattered what anyone else thought, but nearly everyone had said that his hair suited him. The exception, as it so often seemed to be, was Draco Malfoy. It wasn't as that the Potion's Professor had said outright that he didn't like Harry's hair, but his eyes were always slightly narrowed as though his hair was doing something offensive just by existing. Harry couldn’t understand it.

It all came to a head one afternoon, Harry was in the staff room grading papers and generally minding his own business, when Malfoy marched in and plopped down a pile of his own parchments on the table to mark, “Do you mind if I work here, too?” he asked.

"Not at all," Harry said, gesturing to the place Malfoy had already decided to occupy. He looked down and marked his place on the paper he was struggling through before looking up at Draco and pushing his hair out of his face.

Draco rolled his eyes and gave his head a little shake.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, very clearly looking at Harry’s wild curls.

He sighed, “Out with it.” It had been a very long day, in Harry’s defense, and he just couldn't take another minute more.

“It’s nothing,” Draco insisted, even as his eyes flicked over to where Harry’s fingers were toying with the ends of a strand of hair.

“What have you got against my hair, Malfoy?”

(Read more below the cut)

“Oh, it’s back to Malfoy is it?” he asked, voice light and teasing. “I haven’t got anything against your hair,” he repeated.

“Come on," Harry urged, "You think because your hair is cut short and is always a perfect quiff that it’s better than mine?” Harry asked, and he knew it was childish but he couldn’t stand Draco thinking mean things about his hair for one more instant. “Do you think I look like a girl?”

“What?” Draco asked, sounding startled. “Of course I don’t think you look like a girl. What are you even saying? My father always had long hair, if you remember,” Harry flushed, knowing that was indeed the case. “And while my hair does, as you said, always look perfect,” he added with a smirk, “Your hair is very nice as well. Very healthy, the curls suit you.”

Harry felt his neck grow warm at the compliment, “Then why are you always glaring at it?”

“Because you’re always fussing with it. When you’re anxious or grading papers, it seems like it’s in your way and there are a million things you could do with it so it wouldn’t hassle you so.”

“Like what, cut it?”

“No, don’t be an idiot,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Then what?” Harry muttered, petulantly pushing his hair out of his face once more.

“Like a plait, or a bun, a twist, a half bun even. There are also a myriad of products that could help you.”

Harry chewed on his lip, shoving his curls back behind his ear and thinking about what the other man was suggesting.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Draco muttered. "Here," he snapped, standing up and moving around the table near Harry.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

Draco's fingers slipped into his hair, "Trust me."

I do. Harry thought as Draco's fingers started weaving through his hair. It felt surprisingly nice, actually, and Harry found his eyes drifting shut.

"There," Draco said and Harry opened his eyes to see that he'd conjured a mirror and was holding it up for Harry to look into. He'd braided part of his hair back, clasping the hair that was always in his face and pulling it back into a barrette while the rest remained down around his shoulders.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"No problem," Draco replied carelessly as he sat back down to grade papers.

Harry went back to marking his own and they graded in silence for quite a while until Harry spoke up, "This is actually pretty nice."

"Hmm?" Draco hummed, scratching out something a student had written and writing a note in the margins.

"Having my hair back," Harry replied.

Draco looked up at him, giving him a little smile, "You have perfect hair for braids and buns, lots of volume."

"This would be good for teaching," Harry mused, "Especially on days like tomorrow when I have my older students practicing dueling."

"I could stop by in the morning before breakfast," Draco offered, "put it in a braid or something?"

"I wouldn't want to impose-"

"It's no imposition," Draco interrupted. "Honestly, I'll be glad not to watch you fiddling with it all day."

-----

And so began their tradition of Draco stopping by Harry's rooms before breakfast. Harry made coffee for both of them and they enjoyed the quiet together while Draco did something with Harry's hair.

How he would do Harry's hair each morning was always a mystery but every day when he showed him the finished result, something warm and pleased unfurled in Harry's chest.

After about a month of this Draco asked him one morning, "What's your hair care routine like?"

Harry shrugged, eye's closed as Draco's fingers worked through his curls, "shower, shampoo, conditioner," he replied. "Every other day usually."

"That's it?" he asked.

"What else is there?" Harry replied, too relaxed by the way Draco's fingers were moving through his hair to get worked up by his indignant tone.

"Potter, do you know what I did while you were training to be an Auror and all that nonsense?”

“Err? Your potions proficiencies?” Harry ventured.

“Well, yes, obviously,” he said as he tucked some hair up into what Harry suspected was becoming an elaborate bun at the base of his neck. “But I also developed potions for a beauty company. Especially potions for healthy hair.” Harry felt a hair pin sliding into place, “when Minerva offered me this position I almost didn’t take it. I had several offers from businesses who wanted to fund my research and allow me to build a brand for them.”

"Really?" Harry asked. "I didn't know that."

"Yes," he replied, "And you are literally killing me. We're going to start doing weekly conditioning masks for your curls. Spa night," he demanded. "Every Saturday."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

"I'll bring the hair care and skin care supplements."

Harry hummed, "Alright. What should I bring?"

"Dinner."

-----------

So they did. Spa nights on Saturdays and Draco every morning to do something different with his hair, and he loved every moment of it.

Harry had never been a morning person but for the first time in his life he found himself looking forward to being awake and out of bed each morning. He was happy and his hair seemed to be, too.

It seemed impossible, but Harry's hair had grown and grown and grown in the past five months since Draco had started all of this. His wavy curls reached halfway down his back by this point and Draco never seemed to tire of coming up with new ways to do his hair.

One warm Sunday afternoon in May, Harry invited Draco for a picnic and Draco had given him a pleased smile and said yes.

They found a quiet spot on a hill and ate lunch while they chatted and laughed as they watched students goofing around and generally just having fun.

"Merlin," Draco laughed as a group of second years rolled down the hill, sending up puffs of dandelions in the wind, "Were we ever that young."

"Honestly?" Harry asked, glancing over and tossing the curls that Draco had left loose over his shoulder, "I don't think so."

Draco frowned at him, "Even before you knew about Voldemort?" he asked.

Harry laughed and looked at the kids who were skipping rocks over the lake, "Especially then."

Draco moved to kneel behind him, taking down the part of Harry's hair that he'd put up earlier that morning, "Tell me about it?" he asked softly.

He hummed, "Not much to tell, really," he replied.

Draco's fingers started at the hair just above his right temple, "Tell me anyway?"

"Well this," he sighed as Draco started braiding, "Would never have been allowed. Long hair was for girls."

"Pfft," Draco huffed.

Harry smiled, "they," he swallowed, the words still somehow causing him bitter grief, "they didn't want me."

"What?"

"Just," he shrugged, "They had their own child and I was just a burden dumped on them. I wasn't allowed to be a child, I was there to do chores and not get in the way. Everything about me was wrong from my skin color, to my hair, to my eyesight, to my accidental magic."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah," he agreed, "But it was a long time ago. And I turned out alright."

"You did," Draco affirmed and Harry saw him pluck a flower from the grass beside them.

"Were you allowed to be a kid?" Harry asked.

"Sort of." Harry saw flowers zip past him and into Draco's outstretched hand. "There were things that were befitting of Malfoys and things that weren't. Anything that was appropriate for an heir of a noble pureblood house was fair game."

"Draco?"

"Mmhmm?" he hummed.

"It's been nice defying my childhood with you."

When Draco spoke he could hear the smile in his voice, "Likewise, Harry." He tied off the elaborate seven-strand braid he'd been working on and put it over Harry's shoulder to show him to flowers he'd woven in.

"Beautiful," Harry murmured, brushing his fingers over the array of flowers.

"Yes, you are," he replied.

Harry's gaze snapped up to find Draco watching him closely. "There's another way that I'd very much like to defy my upbringing with you," he ventured, clinging to every shred of Griffyndor bravery he'd ever possessed.

"Oh?" Draco asked with a little smile.

He nodded and reached out to cup Draco's cheek in his palm, "Can I kiss you?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Draco replied, leaning in and pressing his lips to Harry's as he buried his fingers in Harry's hair.

And if several groups of students caught sight of the two of them kissing on the hill, well, no one was surprised.

-----------

ahhhh! Sorry friends. This one got a bit out of control. I was just feeling a lot of feelings about Harry having long hair.

Side note, if anyone feels inspired draw Draco doing Harry's lovely flower braid (and I'm not saying it has to be @pato-roldnart but I'm obsessed with your art) I'd love that more than anything.

AHHHHH pato-roldnart did the thing! Look at this GORGEOUS art. I'm in love, please go look at it!

Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy it even though it's long! <3 Thanks for the prompt anon!

Day 62: Clothes | Day 64: Shower

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #hogwarts professors #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlet #oh boy. this one got away from me #i was just feeling a lot of things about Harry having long hair #send help #also send me a one word prompt and i'll write you a ficlet #love #soft #healing

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tarosin · 3 years

Text

the great adventures of y/n, tubbo and jack - we built a boat

requested: yes/no

this is part 10 to the great adventures series

you didn’t actually expect to be filming a vlog with tubbo and jack today, you were spending one of you last days away from home with lani at the beach, not knowing that tubbo and jack would make you join them. you ended up finding several rocks you liked and ran off to pick them up thinking tubbo would like them, so you put them in your pocket. whilst you were collecting rocks, lani was on the phone to tubbo letting him know you were actually at the beach if he wanted you to join him in the vlog.

“wait y/ns there? put them on the phone.”

“they’re in the water.”

“why?”

“ill ask, Y/N WHY ARE YOU IN THE WATER?!”

“I FOUND A ROCK THAT MATCHES RANBOOS BRAND BUT A WAVE TOOK IT AWAY FROM ME AND IM NOT LETTING POSEIDON WIN!”

“yeah they’re fighting Poseidon, where are you going to be? ill bring them to you.”

few minutes later you made your way to lani drenched in water.

“i fell…stop laughing!”

“im not!”

“you’re eyes are literally watering because you’re holding in your laughter, anyway look what i got you!”

you placed a clear quartz crystal and a piece of sea glass in lanis hand.

“thank you y/n!! wait this isn’t like your other rocks?”

“i know!! it’s clear quartz and sea glass. i felt like you should have it! i think it’s because i won the battle with Poseidon!”

“you fell.”

“shut up!”

“are you staying at ours again tonight?”

“think so… wanna turn the crystal into a necklace?”

“definitely!”

lani ended up taking you to where tubbo was, but didn’t tell you what was happening, you only found out when you looked up to see jack recording you and lani.

“hold up, guest appearance.”

“oh hi lani…y/n, guess what?”

you looked down to see the boat.

“oh fuck no!”

you walked away laughing, tubbo followed after you dragging you back to the others.

“they said they can’t wait to go on the boat with us jack!”

“how likely is he to be able to build this?? how likely are me and y/n going to drown??”

“uhm good chances!”

“of what?”

“lani, am i going to live or die?”

you laughed as lani walked away shrugging.

“tubbo how much money did you spend on this…”

“£50.”

“oh great i’m drowning today!”

you stood next to jack tilting your head as tubbo attached the sail to the pole.

“just remember if you two die, i’m in your will.”

“i didn’t write a will.”

“well that was your first mistake y/n did!”

“tubbo gets my rock collection, tommy gets whatever he wants just not the rock collection, ranboo gets whatever tommy doesn’t want, and you get what ranboo doesn’t want.”

a few minutes later you helped tubbo put the sail up whilst jack stood filming you both.

“this looks unsafe..”

“and muddy.”

“it’s unsafe and muddy but we’re trying our best.”

“jack didn’t do anything.”

“rude!”

you stood next to lani trying to convince her to go on the boat so you didn’t have to as tubbo tried to lasso jack. after being told no several times, you stood with jack whilst tubbo began to tie a figure of 8, you watched as tubbo began teaching you how to actually tie a figure of 8 using a really morbid story.

“…heh”

“why was that so morbid?”

“we like death on the tubbo channel!”

“i want to go home!”

“no!”

“okay!”

the three of you began to carry the boat out to the sea, however you crashed into something straight away.

“could be worse…could have hit a member of the public.”

“IM TRYING!”

“i can tell…it’s not good enough but i can tell.”

“…TO HIT SOMEONE!”

“NO!”

“my bad T bo!”

“what the fuck did you call me?”

as you were getting ready to go down the ramp, lani looked directly at you and tubbo who were now trying to push each other into the water.

“try not to hit little people in the water!”

“little people…”

“shall we waterproof up?”

you turned around a minute later only to have tubbo holding his phone up to your face after annoying jack with it .

“say hello.”

“hi there , please send help. i’m going to die!”

“ignore y/n, they’re just dramatic..i wouldn’t let them drown.”

you helped tubbo get the boat into the water as jack filmed the pair of you .

“it’s cold.”

“i’ve been in here before…i fell.”

“how cold was it?”

“very.”

“the weed of the sea is in my feet.”

“ew! what the fuck!”

lani noticed you had all let go of the boat and yelled at you all to grab the boat before it left you all behind, jack, and tubbo got in the boat, however you refused as lani kept yelling that the trailer was on.

“oh we’ve left the trailer on.”

“that’s what lani has been saying.”

tubbo got off to untie the trailer and you stood nervously laughing as the wheel fell off .

“i'm actually going to die!”

“it’s fineee!”

you helped jack get out the boat, so you could all fix the boat.

“he thinks we could be doing better.”

“i think everyone could think that.”

jack got on the boat first, then tubbo, who then helped you get onto the boat.

“off we go!”

for the first five minutes, the three of you sat yelling at each other what you all should be doing to make the boat go forwards.

“i quite like this.”

“we’re not moving!”

“exactly!”

soon enough you had figured it all out and waved goodbye to the others after they gave you a thumbs up.

“TO FRANCE!”

“so now what do we do?”

“pray.”

“heh?”

“to what?”

“god..say your final goodbyes we’re going to die!”

“hey that rhymed, you’re a genius!”

at this point the boat had completely stopped moving, however tubbo didn’t think this was the case, and began trying to turn the boat around as it was apparently going to shore, despite the fact you and jack were telling him you all hadn’t moved.

“so what’s the sail for?”

“i mean jack has a point you are paddling.”

“luck!”

“….HEH?”

“y/n you talk to technoblade too much.”

“i’ve been saying heh before i met tommy, what the fuck?”

“jack go up to the front, so y/n can sit next to me.”

jack moved and you sat next to tubbo.

“so how long does it take to go to france?”

“ahh you know, about 20 minutes.”

“how fast do you think we’re going bud?”

“on a, on a, on a train.”

“how would you get the train?”

“i don’t think the train can go across this..”

rather than answering that question tubbo decided he made a hit list.

“we’re going to just go through here.”

“…through where?”

“between the people.”

“NO!”

“you’re creating unnecessary danger.”

you and tubbo started bickering about why he suddenly decided that he was going to hit a bunch of people with the boat for no reason.

“fine you take control y/n!”

“tubbo you were going to kill them!”

“that’s just part of the sailing life!”

you just stared at tubbo shaking your head slightly, trying to process what just happened, then all of a sudden tubbo got up and put you in charge of controlling the boat. you were surprisingly good at it, which was lucky for tubbo and jack who were now leaning out of the boat claiming that they were hiking. they only stopped when the boat began to go faster and noticed you had no idea what you were doing.

“y/n is going to be the reason we crash!”

“yeah i will!”

“why do you sound happy about that?”

“eta france?”

“any second now.”

you decided to focus on making sure the boat was going where you wanted it to go, whilst the others yelled out to the sea occasionally yelling phrases in french as they claimed they could see the french. well you think tubbo was yelling phrases in french, however halfway through you were convinced he started just yelling things in a french accent as he revealed he didn’t actually know french, resulting in jack asking to go to russia as he knows russian.

“y/n, sail is to russia!”

“you know what i don’t wanna drive here you go jack it’s your turn.”

“I DONT KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!”

“we’re sick of this shit aren’t we y/n, jack take that…you’re on the wrong side switch sides with us.”

you all swapped sides and you and tubbo sat with your arms around each other instructing jack how to sail .

“yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“thats good now turn us and we’ll be in the wind.”

“we’re about to catch the wind.”

“JACK MANIFOLD GET READY!”

you all swapped sides again and tubbo whispered in your ear, as you sat next to him, about making the boat capsize so jack would go into the water, jack ended up doing a lot better than you and tubbo did, and you all actually started going pretty fast. however, there was absolutely no way you’d get to land any time soon. you sat laughing with tubbo whilst jack yelled about how he was a fisherman, and that’s why he was doing so well and how he studied their fins so he could find out how fish swim.

“for a £50 boat it’s done us well, look we’re sailing, the water cleaned the boat.”

“we havent died.”

“im a little wet, but not too bad.”

“must be nice.”

“oh yeah you fell earlier.”

“how?”

“they were fighting Poseidon.”

“huh?”

“they probably found a rock they liked and went to get it but it ended up in water.”

“…yeah.”

you all ended up catching the wind and tubbo decided to make you and jack do reaction images.

“help girl, i don’t know how to sail.”

“okay jack your turn, drive and film.”

“hey look i’m filming and driving!”

“no film me and y/n!”

jack filmed the pair of you, tubbo had his arm around you to prevent you from falling out of the boat as you had a habit of leaning out the boat to touch the water. you had no idea what to do so ended up copying tubbo, the pair of you took off your hats .

“tips fedora…what do you want to name our boat?”

“tubboat!”

“no way..”

“THE TUBBOATS REAL NOW!!”

it was around now you and tubbo claimed you were all drifting out to sea, and to just let the wind take you wherever it wants to, whereas jack claimed the boat wasn’t moving at all. you pointed at a boat which was moving a lot quicker than you were.

“HES GOT WIND!”

“WHERES OUR WIND?”

“he stole our wind.”

“we’re stranded jack,y/n.”

you noticed lani and waved out to her.

“LANI!”

“jacks sailing, hes getting sailing tips from my cousins!”

“great can he take us to land?”

“no.”

“YO WERE ZOOMING!”

“i hope we don’t capsize..”

“why would we?”

tubbo looked at you and you nodded back at him.

“hey jack we’re gonna tip this boat!”

and with that the pair of you stood up and began tipping the boat over whilst laughing.

“SUCKER WERE STILL DRY!”

“tubbo i’m about to fall!”

tubbo grabbed your hand keeping you up on the boat with him, you both even managed to get back in the boat without getting wet.

“no, if i’m in you have to be in too.”

jack pushed tubbo into the water tubbo then went on to pull you into the water with him.

“NO!”

“IM FREEZING!”

tubbo helped you onto the boat first as this was the second time you ended up in the water, and you were quite clearly cold, he got on after you. you sat on the boat as he filmed the outro and jumped back into the water. once jack ended the recording, you reached out your hand to tubbo helping him back onto the boat. the way back to shore was you and tubbo clinging onto each other trying to warm up, and the three of you making shit jokes, and enjoying each other’s company. you even made a few more plans for when ranboos in the uk. few hours later you had said goodbye to jack and went back to tubbos house, tubbo let you shower first while he stayed with lani as she streamed.

“chuck your clothes outside the door, i’ll put them in the dryer whilst you shower. you can change into these.”

tubbo gave you a hoodie from his merch collection that would be dropping soon, along with your pyjama pants, 30 minutes later you sat with lani whilst tubbo went off to shower, lani ended up finishing the stream after 15 minutes.

“wanna make the necklaces lani?”

“i’d love to!”

not long later tubbo joined the pair of you.

“oooh tubbo i got you some more rocks, they're over there with your phone.”

you ended up making a couple of them into necklaces for him, so the the three of you had something to help you remember the day.

“y/n, i hope you’re enjoying your stay, youll practically be living here for a few month soon.”

“wait their parents said yes?!”

“what are you all talking about?”

taglist:

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

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drabbles-of-writing · 3 years

Text

Coming Home

AO3

third owl fight attack! This one’s prompt was “Hunter and Luz being siblings”, and I kinda ran with it

Summary: Saying that Hunter was worried for Luz would be an overstatement. He wasn't worried, he was just...vaguely curious. He knew that she'd take some time in the human realm, to be with her mother, but...well, it'd been almost two weeks, and nobody had heard a single thing from her. So, really, breaking and entering was an entirely reasonable reaction.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Now, Hunter knew, on some level, that Luz would be in the human realm for a while.

To be fair, he hadn’t had much time to think about it, what with everything going on. There was the Grimwalker revelation, which was also a kind-of clone revelation, and Luz offering an outstretched hand, and sitting on the ground in the human realm with the portal flickering and pulsing angrily, the dust settling as he held his uncles broken mask in his hands--

He’d been more than a little preoccupied, to say the least.

And Luz had gone through the portal the second it had all finally calmed, when there was nothing left to fight, with goodbyes he couldn’t remember. He wasn’t sure exactly when, everything had gone pretty numb by that point.

He just knew that after the first two days, when he was finally dragged out of his miserable wallowing in ditches by a very exasperated palisman and Owl Lady, Luz wasn’t there.

The others noticed her absence and the slight hole she left, he knew they did, but they never really commented on it. What with Bonesborough falling apart in a literal and metaphorical sense, everyone was kinda busy trying to patch all of it up. Like dealing with that one demon who kept talking about ancient magic, who was apparently the small rat demon's dad. And making sure Kikimora stopped escaping prison for five minutes. And dealing with the other Coven Heads. And apparently there was some people mad that the old wild witch ways were coming back--

Nobody really had the time to wonder about Luz off in the human realm, seeing her mother again.

And for the first week, he didn’t worry. He had an existential crisis and bothersome witches to avoid like the plague. His days were spent distracting himself by making everyone's lives miserable, since they kept insisting on holding him captive in the Owl House instead of letting him decompose in the woods for some reason. And honestly, Luz knew way too many people, because he’d stopped bothering to keep track of everyone by the fourth hour of being in that house.

After he realized trying to run for it or annoying everyone into kicking him out wouldn’t work, he mostly hid in the dark corners where nobody would see him for hours at a time. Used to be for days, but apparently the Owl Lady was just as nocturnal as him, and they’d run into each other early in the morning when trying to grab a snack.

He had Rascal for company, at least. Say what you will about the little guy, but he was as loyal as he was stubborn.

But, after the first week, Hunter was starting to really notice a severe lack of annoying humans running around.

Apparently, so was the others, because he was noticing a few of them beginning to get a little antsy. He would’ve brushed it off, but he could hear a distinct influx of mutterings that sounded like ‘Luz’ and ‘portal’ and ‘human realm’ from his hiding places, when they thought no one else was around.

It was almost halfway through the second week before he knew it, and that was far too long for Luz to be away without so much as a note.

And she was probably fine, he reasoned. But Luz being away without even a call was suspicious enough, two was downright concerning.

By then, Hunter was somewhat starting to recognize the faces that filtered in and out of the Owl House, and he began to plan.

Somehow, he managed to wait until he saw a girl with familiar purple hair step in through the doorway, speaking words he didn’t bother to listen to as she sat on the couch he was hiding under.

Rascal had, of course, chosen to perch himself on the head of a chair across the room, where barely anyone would care to notice him.

She was talking to some small illusionist he saw earlier (he may recognize faces, but names were a whole other matter. He’d never had to memorize names unless they were important to Belos, and if they weren’t, they were irrelevant. He should probably work on remembering their names), something about buildings and repairs or something, it wasn’t his problem. When the illusionist stepped away, off towards the kitchen to grab something, Hunter decided to poke his head out from underneath the couch.

“So what's the word on-- ow!” He yelped, jerking back under the couch when he got a foot kicked into his nose.

“Titan, don’t do that, you prick!” Amity snapped, inching a little further to the left as Hunter peeked out only one eye from under the couch this time, giving his best spiteful glare. “Why are you even down there?”

“Because nobody bothers me,” Hunter growled, holding his nose as he began to wiggle out. “Everyone’s so clingy in this house, it’s maddening.”

“Do you actually mean clingy, or are you referring to basic kindness?” Amity raised a brow, narrowing her eyes as he stood and brushed himself off from the dust bunnies that gathered under the couch.

“Irrelevant. Why hasn’t the human returned yet?” He demanded, leaning against the arm of the couch as Amity sat at the other end, giving a reasonable distance between them.

“Luz?” Amity blinked, clearly taken aback by the question.

“Yes, is there another, different human that you have to bring up every five minutes I should know about?” Hunter snapped, and got a curled lip and bared teeth from Amity in response.

“What, getting bored of the rest of us?” Amity snarked, crossing her arms.

“Don’t flatter yourself, barely any of you were entertaining to begin with.” Hunter huffed. “Now do you know why the human is avoiding us or not?”

“Avoiding?” Amity frowned. “Luz’s not avoiding us, she’s just visiting her mom.”

“With radio silence for almost two weeks,” Hunter said, doing his best to stamp down his impatience.

He really would have rathered asking the Owl Lady about this, but he’d learned from the last time he tried that she’d twist any conversation regarding Luz to be about him, so the next logical best bet would have to be her incessant, chattery, girlfriend. Titan, Luz had the weirdest tastes.

“She’s been away from her mom for four months.” Amity said, rolling her eyes like this was some concept he wasn't understanding. “She’s not gonna see her for a day and then come right back.”

“But still!” Hunter threw his hands in the air, ignoring Rascal’s minorly concerned chirp from across the room. “You think someone like Luz would go without contact for almost two weeks? She would’ve at least popped in to say hello, or go on some ramble about what’s going on in the human realm. She’d feel guilty about leaving you guys to repair everything on your own by the second hour.”

“It’s just...taking her a minute,” Amity said, and that was the first small crack in her resolve he saw. Had she not seen him at his lowest the first time they spoke, he would’ve been proud of the fact he could chip away at her far easier than she could at him. “Luz wouldn’t avoid anyone out of the blue, that’s not like her.”

And he knew she was right on that, as infuriating it was to admit it. Luz wouldn’t abandon people, she’d be more likely to keel over on the spot from spontaneously growing a bile sac. And perhaps a part of him was being a little over dramatic, but there was just this little twist in his chest that curled tighter when he considered going back to hiding in empty rooms and letting everything continue on, waiting to see if anything would change rather than making it change.

“Besides,” Amity continued. “As Luz’s girlfriend, I think that I would know if--”

“Oh Titan, just forget it.” Hunter groaned, tugging on his ears as he stepped away from the couch. “Whatever, you’re useless about this, anyway. If you don’t know when she’s coming back, and the Owl Lady doesn’t know, then nobody will.”

Amity stayed silent for a moment as Hunter stormed off towards the doorway that led to the staircase, Rascal flying off his perch to land on his shoulder with soft, almost melodic chirrups.

He contemplated if he could steal something from one of the spare rooms up there. Everyone was fluctuating between them the last few days, but they often left their stuff in there for him to take. It was fun watching them get so riled up about their missing junk.

“We,” Amity started, and Hunter paused in the doorway, one ear pricked. “We were planning on going into the human realm,” She admitted, voice quiet. “If we didn’t hear anything from Luz by the end of this week.”

Hunter turned around then, noting Amity had one hand bunched up on her leg, fisting the hem of her shirt and rubbing her fingers between it in a nervous tick. She avoided his gaze, and he saw, for just the briefest of moments, the uncertainty spilling off of her, possibly having been doing so for far longer than when he’d noticed the same signs from everyone else.

“Well,” He said, and she looked up at him then, and the vulnerability was gone in a snap, replaced by a curious, slightly accusatory, expression. It unnerved him how familiar it looked. “By all means, don’t go telling me about your super secret rescue missions, not like I’d want to join.” He muttered.

“Count it a blessing that I told you at all,” Amity hissed, ears flicking back. “Maybe if you promise to be nice, we’ll let you come along.” She taunted.

“Maybe if you people hadn’t kidnapped me, I wouldn’t be causing so many problems.” Hunter growled back through gritted teeth, breaking eye contact for only a moment when Rascal lightly bit and tugged on his ear, trying to urge him away.

“Like you need an excuse--”

“Uh, am-am I interrupting?”

The two turned their heads, realizing that the small illusionist, he’d figure out the kids name later, was standing in the living room again, a box of juice in his hands as his eyes flicked between them.

“No, Golden Boy was just leaving.” Amity waved him off, leaning back against the couch.

“You weren’t even clever with that one, Blight.” Hunter sneered, rolling his eyes as he turned to leave.

“Wittebane.”

“Call me that again and I’m ripping your teeth out.” Hunter threatened, pointing a finger at her as he backed out of the room.

“No name,” Amity amended, sticking her tongue out at him.

“You are on thin ice.”

That night, Hunter was opening the window in Luz’s old room.

His escape attempts had never really worked before, the weird tube demon in the front door took his job of keeping him contained very seriously. Everyone else just liked watching the show and tapping in when needed.

However, he also knew, from the mutterings that Luz had told him in those few snatches of time in the days that they had talked before everything went wrong (or right, depending on who you asked), that she’d snuck out through her window multiple times without the demon realizing. Apparently she had bribed him once or twice, and now he barely reacted to the sound of her window opening, sort of like a reflex.

He’d meant to use it for his next escape attempt, just to see if it’d work for him, to run for the hills if it worked, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He’d be damned if they left him out of nabbing Luz from the human realm.

So Hunter tugged his cloak tighter across his shoulders, despite it being torn in many places, he had yet to rid it completely, and slowly opened Luz’s window.

He waited, tense, Rascal just as silent from within his hood. When there wasn’t the sound of a piercing voice after a few seconds, he cautiously poked his head out.

Nothing.

Either the bird really had grown to have no reaction to Luz’s window opening, or he was just as tired as everyone else. Or off eating bugs, that was plausible.

He slowly edged out, only having a moment to peer down at the ground below until he swung out of the window, hands gripping the windowsill as he edged himself down.

He hung in the air for a moment before releasing the windowsill, dropping to the ground below in a crouch. The perks of the Emperor’s Coven were few and far between, but hey, living there had made him an expert at being quiet.

He darted around the Owl House, crouching so as to avoid being seen through the first-floor windows, because there was always someone awake, no matter the hour. The portal to the human realm had been moved not too far away, but far enough that it couldn’t be, you know, automatically seen by anyone approaching the building.

He spared one last glance towards the house before he booked it off towards the woods, already mentally cursing himself for wearing a white cloak in the middle of the night. Why did he think that was a good idea, why did he think that was a good idea--

He made it to the cover of trees, somehow, without anyone sounding the alarm. He ducked behind a tree, catching his breath for a moment as he waited for shouting to arise.

Upon realizing he was in the clear, he pumped a fist in the air with a soft “yes!” and got an encouraging whistle from Rascal, who he gave a quick scratch on the head to.

He then hurried a bit further into the trees, soon faced with branches, vines, and bushes all stretched out across the beginning of a slope before him.

He reached out, grabbing one of the vines and yanking it aside, revealing the structure of the portal to the human realm, its soft humming mostly muffled by everything covering it. He ran his hand down the exterior of it for a second before pushing more vines aside, allowing a small enough space for him to crawl through.

He’d been to the human realm before, technically. Belos’s wrath had only just begun to reach into the human realm before he had managed to be stopped, and Hunter had a few moments out there, feeling the grass and seeing the trees. They really were green, and he couldn’t help but see it all and know with certainty that there was no magic within any of it. Hollow. It was a feeling he was familiar with.

But this time was different, and he inhaled for a moment before giving Rascal what he hoped was his best determined look.

“Alright,” He said. “Let’s see what’s been keeping her.”

He spent about half an hour in the woods of the human realm until he managed to find Luz’s house.

She’d never really said where she lived, just that it was the closest house to the forest. Nothing about directions, so he spent his time wandering about trying to find a house that wasn’t falling apart.

Rascal gave up and eventually flew off at some point, returning about five minutes later, chittering loudly and pulling on his hood. Hunter knew better to argue, and had followed until he came across a house that actually looked lived in, as opposed to the one he’d appeared in.

“If you led me to a random person's house, I will throw you into the sea.” Hunter warned, only getting a cheery whistle in return as he walked around the house.

He eventually found a window on the first floor, and pushing on it, was delighted to find that it was unlocked. He opened it, hoisting himself inside as Rascal darted in.

He realized the window was right over a kitchen sink, and lightly stepped a foot onto the counter beside it. He slowly swung himself inside, not even bothering to shut the window behind him as he dropped to the floor. He might need that escape route later.

Rascal was off exploring without a second thought, so he allowed himself to stalk throughout the kitchen, eyes flickering over photos and magnets stuck to the fridge. He saw ones that looked like letters, colors, and even saw a photo of a woman and a young, crazy-looking child.

He peeked around corners as he darted through the house, cracking open doors before continuing through hallways. One of the doors he opened looked like a bedroom, but he saw something with a scaly tail poking out, so he let that room be. The human realm was bound to have its own oddities.

The other bedroom he saw did have a person sleeping in it, but she didn’t look like Luz, much too old, so he quietly shut that door again and tried a different one.

He opened the last one, at the end of the hallway, already preparing to snap back that Rascal had brought him to the wrong house, when he took in the bedroom.

He only needed to see it for half a second to see the immediate resemblance to the mess that was Luz’s room in the Owl House. He slipped inside, leaving the door open just a crack in case Rascal showed up.

He crouched, eyeing the posters along the walls, shelves full of random junk, books strewn across the room. The figure sleeping in the bed was practically twisted backwards, blankets already halfway on the floor. He approached it, slowly standing up as he loomed over them, searching their face.

“Oh thank the Titan,” Hunter breathed, stepping back as he pressed a hand to his chest. That was Luz, for sure.

She stirred, slightly, hand twitching as she mumbled incoherently in her sleep. At least she wasn’t actually kidnapped or something, he reasoned.

“Hey, human,” He said, a little louder, but enough that he hoped the others down the hallway wouldn’t hear, shoving at her shoulder. “Wakey wakey.”

Luz mumbled in her sleep again, one eye barely cracking open before she turned over and tried to bury further under her covers.

Hunter grabbed her leg poking out from the blankets and yanked her off.

Luz’s yelp was cut off as he smothered the blankets over her, pausing as she fumbled around trying to get it off, ears pricked as he waited to see if anyone had heard.

“I’m awake, Vee, I’m awake--” Luz pulled the blanket off her head, her glare almost immediately replaced with shock.

“Hey,” Hunter grinned, flashing fangs. “Miss me?”

“Hunter?” Luz exclaimed, before immediately covering her mouth with her hands, eyes darting towards her door like she expected someone to be there.

“Oh don’t sound so surprised.” Hunter scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You oughta step up your game if you think you can escape me in another dimension.”

“What are you doing here?” Luz whisper-yelled, scrambling to her feet as she looked wildly around her room. “Did-did the others come?” She asked, giving him such a scared look he was a little put off by it.

“No? I mean, they will be, I just got ahead of the curve.” Hunter shrugged off her odd reactions. “Made sure I got to you before they did, didn’t feel like being left behind on the ‘let’s drag Luz back kicking and screaming’ plan.”

“Oh no, oh no,” Luz shook her head, one hand on her head as she began to pace. “Are-are the others looking for me?”

“Will be by the end of this week,” Hunter said, watching her curiously. “Why? This a bad time or something?”

“Yes! Yes, this is a terrible time!” Luz exclaimed, barely managing to keep her voice down as she whirled towards him.

“Did you get grounded?” Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Because if so, let me just say, I know about fifteen different ways to lessen the extent of the grounding, and twice as many ways to sneak out, this place isn’t even all that fortified--”

“No! Well, I mean, I kind of am,” Luz winced. “But that’s not--you can’t--you need to go.” Luz said, gesturing back towards the door. “You can’t be here.”

“Do you need a body disposed of? Because I also know a lot of ways to--”

“I’m touched, but no.” Luz gave him a withering look. “Don’t even wanna know why you know that. You have to leave.” She insisted, beginning to shove him towards the door.

“Aw, but I came all this way to see you,” Hunter whined in a dramatic tease, slowly leaning back, therefore putting more strain on Luz as she tried to push him out. “You don’t want to see me?”

“Believe me, I’m very happy to see you’re okay,” Luz assured through gritted teeth, offering the smallest of smiles. “And I’ll bother you later. But now is not the time.”

Rascal took that moment to poke in through the crack in the doorway, landing on a shelf and eyeing the two with what felt like judgement. Hunter promptly dropped all his weight on Luz, nearly crushing her.

“Damn,” He whistled when Luz’s knees refused to buckle. “You got some muscle hiding under those skinny bones?”

“That, and you weigh as much as a half-filled sack of lumpy potatoes.” Luz muttered, already pushing back up to her full height as she took Hunter with her.

“You’re impossible.” Hunter huffed, standing back up onto his feet and snickering as Luz stumbled with the lack of weight. “Seriously, what’s the hold up? Are you getting bored with us already?”

“No, first of all, I’d never do that.” Luz pointed a finger at him. “And I’m offended you thought I ever would be.”

“It’s a reasonable assumption.”

“It’s not. And second of all, I’m serious, you cannot be here.” Luz stressed, grabbing his shoulders, a movement that instinctively caused him to flinch, just the tiniest bit. “If my mom sees you here, she’s going to freak--”

“Luz?” A groggy voice called, and Luz stiffened so quickly with such terror crossing her face that Hunter tensed as well. “Creí haber escuchado algo, are you--?”

Hunter saw the door to Luz’s room open, and immediately threw an arm out in front of Luz, giving a quick whistle that Rascal had learned to recognize by now. In a flash, he was holding his staff in his other hand, Luz pushed behind him as he pointed his staff towards the figure in the doorway, ears pressed back and fangs bared in a low, warning growl.

The person froze, eyes going wide, one hand still clutching the door handle.

He recognized it as the older woman he saw in one of the bedrooms, hair still mussied from sleep, the glasses on her face smudged from someone having grabbed them clumsily. The sleep had vanished from her eyes the moment she saw him, a faintly glowing staff pointed only a foot away from her.

“Hunter, Hunter, no, stop!” Luz was quick to grab Hunter’s arm after barely a second of tense silence, shoving the staff down. “She’s my mom, she’s safe!”

Hunter paused at that. Granted, his experience with biological family (as biological as Belos could be) wasn’t the best, but he had heard a few stories, here and there, about Luz’s mom. And Luz would go into a Slitherbeast den for anyone who asked nicely, but hey, he still thought that if someone was willing to fight Emperor Belos for them, they had to be something special.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, all hostility evaporating as he drew his staff back, holding it at his side. “Reflexes.”

“Luz,” The woman said, slowly, and Hunter was so instantly reminded of when the adults dealing with him were trying so hard to not lose their shit that he halfway raised his arm to shield Luz again. “Por qué hay un chico extraño en tu habitación?”

“Puedo explicarlo!” Luz was quick to exclaim, clutching Hunter’s arm, and he looked blankly between them. He’d heard of other languages in the Isles before, often ones spoken by demons, but this was a new one on him.

“Oh estoy segura de que lo harás!” The woman snapped back, hands on her hips now, not bothering to keep her voice low.

“What’s she saying?” Hunter whispered to Luz, eyes still darting between the two. “Is this a ‘we’re about to start fighting’ situation or a ‘you’re grounded for life’ situation?”

“No te puedo creer.” Luz's mom grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Okay, so, uh,” Luz clasped her hands together. “I promise, mami, this is not what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” Hunter blinked, giving Luz a concerned expression now. “It doesn't look like I’m a robber, right? Because this place has nothing near worth stealing.”

“Please stop talking,” Luz hissed out of the corner of her mouth, never taking her eyes off her mother. “Mami, this is, uh,” She faltered for a moment. “This is Hunter.”

Her mother cracked open an eye from where she was rubbing the bridge of her nose, sending such a seething glare that both kids shuttered.

“You know what,” Hunter said, letting Rascal transform out of a staff and back into his usual self, letting the bird land on his shoulder as he clapped his hands together. “I can see that you're busy, so I think I’ll just be--why is she staring at me like that?”

The woman was staring at him now, well, Rascal, eyes locked on the cardinal on his shoulder like it had suddenly grown five heads. He flicked an ear in confusion, turning to Luz to ask what her mom’s problem was, only to see Luz immediately face-palm.

“Estoy atascado con un idiota,” Luz mumbled under her breath, and Hunter could pretty easily guess what the last word had meant, and bristled at it.

“Hey--”

“Okay, so, Hunter,” Luz kept her hands pressed together, using them both to point towards him. “Thank you for the visit, really, but I think we’re done here.”

“We,” Luz’s mom finally managed to speak, and Luz cringed with a sheepish smile. “Are going to have a talk.” She growled, though it lacked any of the reverberating sounds an actual growl would have. He always wondered how humans ever got the last hit of their point across without growls or clicks or hisses. He realized now that tone had a lot to do with it.

“And that includes you, young man.” The woman added, turning her glare towards Hunter, and he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit he wilted a bit under it. She could’ve disintegrated Kikimora on the spot with a look like that.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hunter ducked his head, and ignored the quiet snickers from Luz that she quickly tried to smother.

The woman stepped to the side, allowing the two of them to shuffle out of the room. Luz went out first, giving Hunter an expression that was somehow both ‘sorry’ and ‘I told you so’ and boy did he want to punch it.

Hunter hurried out after her, one hand cupped over Rascal protectively, unable to fight back the urge to hide him from everyone and everything new, that he’d be broken in half the second anyone got close.

As he passed her, he knew she was staring at him with a far sharper gaze than she had Luz. He glanced out the corner of his eye, and she was staring at his ears, at Rascal, and just as he stepped into the hallway, her eyes narrowed in on the scar along the side of his face.

He’d had people stare at his scars before, it wasn’t new. Scars weren’t uncommon in the Boiling Isles, but ones as big and prominent as his were generally expected of witches far older than him, far more known for their battles and their victories.

He growled in the back of his throat, briefly twitching his lip to flash a fang. It was near-instinctive at this point, a quiet reminder of who he was, of who shadowed over him, and that it was impolite to stare, to mind your own business.

Luz’s mom jerked back at it, a far stronger reaction than the ones he was used to getting. He was used to a quick aversion of the eyes, hurrying to turn their heads the other way, a simple glance to elsewhere in the room. She stared at him with even more apprehension and worry than before, like she was confronted with a wild animal in her home.

His ears pressed down and he hurried off down the hallway, almost stepping on Luz’s heels from how close he walked behind her.

He noticed an eye peeking out of a room up ahead, and Luz gave a weak, almost teasing, salute to whoever was inside. He saw a flash of scales and what might've been a pitying look until they slipped out of view.

Luz stood off to the side as she exited the hallway, and Hunter stood next to her. He gave her a questioning look, one she nearly missed from how much she was staring at her feet. He nudged her shoulder, gaining her attention, and Luz gave a weak, nervous smile.

Alright, so he was definitely missing something here with his woman.

“Kitchen table,” Luz’s mom said, pointing, and the two obeyed. Hunter had no real reason to, he knew this. She was human, he could just leave, and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. But she was important to Luz, clearly, and he knew, tragically, that he’d feel guilty if he left Luz alone.

Luz sat in one of the chairs at the round table, and Hunter took the one next to her. Her mother eyed them for a moment before taking the one across from them.

“Can I just say, that I did not invite Hunter here--”

“Oh, so that’s how it's gonna be?” Hunter whirled his head to her. “Throwing me under the bus? Sorry I wanted to check in.”

“I am telling it as the truth.” Luz insisted, glaring at him. “Would you rather I tell her that I purposefully invited you here at,” She turned towards the wall, squinting at a clock hanging there. “Two twenty-three? Why did you come here so late?” She demanded.

“Technically, it’s early.” Hunter corrected.

“I’m actually going to punch your teeth out.”

Rascal cheeped from his shoulder, and Hunter nodded sagely like he had said something. Rascal could talk to him, of course, in words that only he could hear, but he often didn’t. And the best part was that he could never prove to anyone that Rascal wasn’t shit-talking them.

“Enough, both of you . ” Luz’s mother said firmly, hands placed on the table that had them both straightening to attention. “Luz,” She turned to her daughter, rubbing her temple with one hand as she gestured with the other towards Hunter. “Explain him, please.”

“Like, life story, or why he’s here, or what he is, or--”

“Just please tell me he’s not from where I think he’s from.”

“Oh,” Luz glanced between Hunter and her mother, gears turning in her head. “He’s...not?”

“Dios ayúdame,” Her mother groaned.

“You told me to say he wasn’t! Actually,” Luz frowned as she turned to Hunter. “Do you count as someone from the demon realm, biologically? I don’t know how that whole, er, Grimwalker thing worked, like are you a direct clone, or--”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, because I’ve been avoiding dealing with that whole situation for the past two weeks, and I’m not about to start now.” Hunter raised a hand to cut her off.

“You…” Luz narrowed her eyes at him. “You need a therapist, dude.”

“You’re the fifth person to say that in the last week.”

“Why,” Luz’s mother cut in again, silencing their conversation. “Is there a demon boy in my house?”

“I’m a witch,” Hunter corrected.

“Don’t you count as, like, half a--”

“What did I just say, Luz?”

“Right,” Luz snapped her mouth shut. “Uh, so, I’m assuming he broke in--”

Hunter groaned, gripping his head in his hands as he slouched over the table. Rascal chittered gently as he hopped off his shoulder and onto the table, nudging his arm.

“--but he wasn’t going to cause any trouble!” Luz added quickly, seeing her mothers expression continue to sour. “He just-he wanted to make sure I was alright.”

The woman eyed the two of them for a moment, and Hunter refused to look up and meet her gaze.

“Hunter, is it?” The woman said slowly, cautious, suspicious, but not accusatory.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hunter sighed, relenting to lift his head, messy hair hanging in his face.

“How old are you, exactly?”

“Mami…”

“Sixteen, ma’am.” He mumbled, resting his cheek in his hand.

“And…” She hesitated for a moment. “How old is that in witch years…?”

“...sixteen?” Hunter gave her a perplexed look.

“They age the same as us.” Luz assured, and her mother seemed to relax just a bit.

“Gracias a Dios por eso,” Her mother mumbled. “Alright, and how did you get in?”

“Window,” He tilted his head off towards the one in question, still open over the sink.

“Of course,” The woman muttered under her breath. “The one time I didn’t lock it. Okay, now what is that?” She gestured towards Rascal on his shoulder, and he raised his hand to let the palisman hop onto his hand.

“My palisman,” He said, settling the bird down on the table, but keeping him a far enough distance from Luz’s mom that she wouldn’t be able to grab him. “I call him Rascal. Which reminds me,” He nudged Luz’s shoulder. “Where do you keep those seeds you have for your palisman? She keeps screaming at everyone and the Owl Lady doesn’t know how to make her shut up.”

“Is she okay?” Luz straightened.

“Yeah, little jays fine, she’s just being a pain in the ass.” Hunter grimaced.

“Watch your language, young man.” Luz’s mom leveled a finger at him, and he eyed it for a moment. “Now what do you mean ‘Luz’s pailsman?’ What in the world is a palisman?”

“Oh, uh, nothing! Nothing important, really. Just, like, staff things.” Luz said quickly, and Hunter and Rascal shared a look. Luz loved her palisman, as bratty as she was. And he knew from experience that Luz didn’t think of palismans as ‘nothing important.’

He drew a hand around Rascal and scooted him a little closer towards himself.

“Okay, okay,” Luz’s mother inhaled a steadying breath, as though to keep her cool. “And you are breaking into my house, early in the morning, to see my daughter.”

“Really just to make sure she didn’t, like, get kidnapped on the way up here.” Hunter shrugged. “Everyone's worried about her, so I took one for the team, and all that.”

“Everyone?” Her mother frowned.

“Her...friends?” Hunter gave Luz a sideways look, and she avoided his gaze.

“Mija, you have friends in the demon realm?” Luz’s mom balked, with the tone of someone who didn’t quite believe it, who almost felt as though they were being tricked.

“I told you a bit about them…” Luz mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

“You,” Her mother chuckled, shaking her head, the first sign of anything lighter than what they’d had so far. “You really can’t help but be friendly to everyone, huh?”

“It’s how she got stuck with me, it’s a real problem.” Hunter said, and got an elbow jabbed into him for his troubles, wheezing as he clutched his side.

“Well, you certainly are an...interesting acquaintance,” Her mother said slowly, eyeing him, and he barely resisted the urge to briefly flash sharpened teeth when her gaze lingered on the scar across his face again. “And you showed up, by breaking in...just to check in on Luz?”

“Yeah?” Hunter managed to cough out, cracking open an eye to give the woman a confused look compared to her suspicious, searching one. “Why else?”

“...alright.” She said, and her gaze went back to her daughter. “I wasn’t aware that there would be... situations where the demon realm followed you back.”

“Neither did I, really.” Luz was quick to assure, hands raised. “Hunter of all people being worried about me is the most confusing and touching thing that’s happened so far.”

“I was not worried.” Hunter whirled to her. “I only came here because everyone else was, and they were going to leave me out of the rescue party.”

“Rescue party?” Luz’s mother startled, and he should really learn her name.

“Aha, he doesn't mean that.” Luz waved her hands quickly.

“I do?” Hunter narrowed his eyes. “The others were planning on busting out of the portal to come find you by the end of this week. I didn’t want to be left out, so I broke in ahead of time.”

“There are demons coming here?” The woman exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

“Pretty sure the little rat dog is the only demon coming along.” Hunter corrected. “The others are witches.”

“You know his name is King.” Luz grumbled.

“Yeah, but it's way more fun to call him a rat.”

“Luz, cariño, are we going to have more witches breaking in?” Her mother stressed, stepping away from the table and already beginning to pace.

“Not-not when Hunter gets back to them!” Luz said, also standing. “He can tell them to hold off, that I’m fine, and all that.”

“And deal with them getting all pissy I broke out?” Hunter demanded, scooping Rascal up in his hands as he, too, stood. “Hell no, either they hear from me with you there, or I don’t tell them shit.”

“Watch it,” Luz’s mother warned him again, this time only giving a quick glare. “And Luz is not going back there.”

“Then you have two to twenty witches, plus one demon, knocking on your door.” Hunter shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

“Luz, what did you get into while you were in the demon realm?” Her mother groaned, rubbing her temples.

“I mean, you didn’t ask a lot... ” Luz tried, hovering about two feet from her mom.

“You have two to twenty magical demon people ready to break into our home to make sure you’re okay,” Her mother said, turning towards her daughter. “You didn’t...you didn’t tell me you had friends there.”

“I feel like I just said this,” Hunter squinted. “I told you Luz has friends in the Boiling Isles, isn’t that expected? She makes friends with everyone.”

Luz rubbed her arm and looked down at the ground, and her mother’s mouth twitched downwards for a brief moment. He felt like he was missing something.

“Are all of your friends like him?” Her mother said after a moment, gesturing with a hand off towards Hunter.

“I resent what that implies,” Hunter huffed, ears pressed down as he tucked Rascal between his neck and cloak.

“I mean, personality wise? No, he’s the biggest brat of them all.” Luz assured, and Hunter visibly took offence. “Well, Matt was also a brat, but he’s a friend of a friend, and I think he’s calmer now.”

“They are annoying, though.” Hunter piped up, and prided on barely reacting under Luz’s seething glare.

“Well they can’t come here, your first friend has already caused enough trouble.” Her mother said firmly, and Hunter rolled his eyes at that.

“Please, breaking and entering is tame for me.” Hunter scoffed, and got an even more worried, and possibly judging, look from the woman.

“You're not helping.” Luz whispered, immediately turning back to her mother. “I’m sure we can figure this whole thing out. I can probably get Hunter to tell them to calm them down without me having to go back, Rascal can bully him into it, he likes me.”

“That’s a low blow, human!” Hunter hissed, a low, drawn-out sound that had the woman tensing and Luz only rolling her eyes. “I do so much for you, and this is the thanks I get?” He ignored Rascal’s gleeful chitters that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“We’re even on that front and you know it.”

“Debatable,”

“This is serious, Luz.” Her mother said, and Luz’s mouth clicked shut. “Christ,” She sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d made friends in the demon realm?”

“You didn’t ask…?” Luz said slowly.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Hunter said, leaning against the island counter. “I drag Luz back, she hangs for a day or two to calm everyone down, and she comes right back to have quality family time, or whatever you guys call it, until you’re all finished.”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother said instantly. “Luz will not go anywhere near that portal.”

“It’s not gonna blow up, it’s stable.” Hunter raised a brow, not noticing Luz freezing up.

“Luz is not going back to that demon realm,” She insisted, and he was sure she would be growling if she could. “Listen, could you please just tell the other witches to stay back? I don’t want any trouble from that realm coming through here.”

“Ouch,” Hunter said dryly, twitching an ear as he crossed his arms. “Why’s this got you in a tizzy? I came here to bring back Luz anyway, why is this an issue?”

Luz and her mother met eyes for a brief second, and Hunter knew then he was missing something, because it felt like a conversation passed between their eyes and Luz ducked her head again, ashamed.

“Luz,” Her mother spoke in soft tones, though she was rubbing at her face. “You didn’t tell your friends--”

“I was going to--”

“Luz, honey, you can’t omit details from people--”

“I know, I swear I was just busy trying to see you--”

Hunter set Rascal down on the island counter and gestured towards him. The palisman fluffed his wings before proceeding to peck incessantly on the counter, making a loud clinking noise. It got both humans mingling words to come to a stop as they both turned towards him.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I’m still here.” Hunter said, scratching his bird's head to get him to cease once he had their full attention. “What am I missing?” He asked, pointing between the two.

“I apologize Luz hadn’t informed you earlier,” Her mother started, and Luz gripped her arms and looked away from them both, shoulders hunched. “But she won’t be going back to the demon realm.”

He stared. He blinked once, twice. He could see Rascal staring too, just barely in his line of sight.

“Come again?”

“Luz had been trapped there for so long,” Her mother went on. “And-and she was surrounded by demons and rain that scalded skin and-and Vee told me of Emperor’s and experiments,”

Hunter flinched at that, ears pressing flat as he turned his head to the side.

“It’s clearly not a safe place,” She continued, and her eyes dropped to his notched ear. “And...there’s much to catch up on, to talk about.” She said, in a polite tone that told him not to press that particular matter. “Surely, you can explain this to them?”

Hunter stayed silent for a moment, aware of Luz peeking at him with guilt across her features. He didn’t meet it, he knew he’d get more riled up if he did.

“Yeah, so,” Hunter said calmly, clasping his hands together. “That’s not happening.”

“Excuse me?” Her mother reeled back a bit.

“Listen, Miss...what are your last names again?” He asked Luz, though he still didn’t let himself fully look at her.

“Noceda,” She said, sounding confused now.

“Ms. Noceda,” He continued. “I can speak from personal experience when I tell you that the Emperor and any experiments he had are far beyond gone,” He said, bitterness dripping from his words. “And I-- we have your daughter to thank for that.”

Her mother startled for a moment, opening her mouth to speak, but he plowed on.

“Half the things that made the Isles dangerous, including the very reason your daughter was late coming home, are either burnt to a crisp or in the ground.” He said, holding her gaze. “And I can tell you this, with one hundred percent sincerity, that if I go back and tell Luz’s friends that she won’t ever be coming back, you’ll have witches and demons in numbers nearing the thirties knocking on your front door.”

“Is that a threat?” The woman managed to get out first.

“With all due respect, Ms. Noceda, it’s a promise.”

“Thank you, Hunter.” Luz was suddenly at his side, seizing his arm in a grip that felt like he was losing circulation. “That’s enough,” She said, giving him a warning look. “I think she gets the message.”

“Luz, what in the world is he talking about?” Her mother asked, eyes back to her child.

“It-it’s a long story, but he’s right about the Emperor!” Luz added quickly. “He’s...he’s gone, and-and I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“He won’t.” Hunter said, and left it at that.

“Luz, cariño, I’m sure we could work something out with your friends.” Her mother assured. “I’m glad a man like Vee had described is gone, but I’m sure they would understand.”

“That her mom won’t let her come back?” Hunter scoffed, and Luz tugged forcefully on his arm.

“Hunter,” She hissed, and he looked at her then, and saw the fear practically radiating off her. He wondered if it was something she’d picked up from Amity or vice versa, to be brimming with emotions, but leaving them largely unnoticed until someone actually focused.

“Look, I…” Luz hesitated for a moment. “I promised that I’d stay with her…” She mumbled, and the last piece clicked in his mind.

Luz had promised she’d stay, to a likely terrified mother, and Luz was never one to skimp out on promises. She either kept them or agonized over trying. And it’d make sense why she wouldn’t want to tell anyone, she promised she’d leave forever, and no plans or compromises from the residents of the Owl House could sate a mother worried for her daughter.

Also made sense why she wanted him to leave. Her mom did not seem to like the place, and him being there had to be somewhat breaking the little ‘promise’ of interacting with someone from the demon realm at all.

“Oh,” He said, instead of all that, ears pricking slightly.

“I’m sorry to have it all sprung on you without warning,” He heard her mother saying, though he wasn��t looking at her much in that moment, but she sounded genuine. “But the demon realm doesn’t necessarily seem to be...the safest of places.”

“It’s not,” Hunter confirmed, slowly straightening to face the woman again. “But hey,” He shrugged, feeling Luz letting up her grip on his arm. “It’s home.”

Her eyes dropped to his scar again, just for a moment, and he didn’t bother to hide his eye roll this time.

“Trust me, I’m an outlier in how deadly the place actually is.” He muttered. “These,” He gestured broadly to his face, not quite feeling the satisfaction he assumed he’d feel when he saw her wince. “Were caused by something outside the Boiling Isles, something that never should have been there in the first place. He’s gone now.” He rumbled a growl. “We made sure of it.”

She looked apologetic, and he’d give her that. But she shook her head with a sigh all the same.

“I’m sorry, truly, but Luz and I agreed, it’s not safe. I’m glad she could make friends there, I really am,” She said, and he wondered what kind of friends Luz had had in the past, because she said the word ‘friends’ like it could have five different meanings. “But it’s not safe for her.”

“And?” Hunter threw a hand out in a broad gesture. “It was never completely safe, no place is. You gonna look me in the eyes and tell me Luz would never sneak back out? I’m giving her another week at best.”

“Hunter!”

“Look, I’m really just trying to wrap this whole complication up,” Hunter sighed unsympathetically, aware of Rascal chirping and head-butting his arm. “Unfortunately, I know you, and I know you’d rather wallow in a chasm for eternity than never go back to the Isles. And as entertaining as watching a whole drama unfold would be when your mom would eventually find out, I really don't want to deal with that headache.” He grumbled.

Luz looked to her mother then, and her mother looked back. Luz’s hand was still clutched in his sleeve, watching her mother worriedly as she met her confused gaze.

“Luz?” Her mother said slowly, and Luz fiddled with Hunter’s sleeve.

“Mami, I...look, I didn’t...my friends, they...I don’t…”

“Hi, sorry, can-can I butt-in?”

The three whirled around, Hunter automatically putting an arm in front of Luz and taking a step back at the sight.

A basilisk lay in the doorway to the kitchen, tail curled somewhere out of sight. It was a young one, about the size of Luz. That’d work, he’d taken on bigger before, not like he had any magic for a basilisk to steal--

“Vee,” Luz’s mother breathed. “What are you doing up?”

And of course she was someone they knew. Amazing, wonderful, he loved being out of the loop that there was a basilisk casually within the house, that wasn’t unnerving at all.

“You guys aren’t very quiet,” The basilisk--Vee--shrugged as she slithered in, and Hunter took another step back, his arm in front of Luz causing her to be pushed back as well. “Hey there, uh, new guy.” She offered a small, shy wave to Hunter, and he eyed her before hesitantly returning it.

“Vee, I think you should go back to bed, we were discussing--”

“I know, I heard.” Vee brushed off Luz’s mom. “I actually have an idea for, y’know, this predicament. No offence, but I can't really sleep with you guys arguing.” She said, the wringing of her clawed hands the only sign she was nervous, stopping only when she was between them, with Luz and Hunter on one side, Ms. Noceda on the other.

“Should I be worried about this?” Hunter whispered to Luz.

“Nah, she’s cool.” Luz whispered back.

“What if, and hear me out...we all sleep on this,” Vee said, palms pressed together. “We think it over during the night, and when it's actually light out, we talk about Luz wanting to go back to the Isles and the rules that would have to be put in place. And also nobody breaks in.” She tacked on quickly.

“So you do want to go back?” Luz’s mother turned to her, and he saw the hurt and shock in her eyes.

“I…” Luz looked like she had a ‘no,’ at the back of her throat, and he truly did believe she would’ve said all her mom wanted to say. But he nudged her side, and she looked up at him, and clearly he was doing something with his face, because the empty assurances died out.

“Y-yeah, I do.” She mumbled, looking back to her mom. “I...really, really want to see them again, back in their realm.”

And he avoided looking at Ms. Noceda’s face, because the shock and pain increased significantly.

“Well, I, for one,” He said, ducking around Luz. “Agree with the lizard's plan. Sleep on it, talk in the morning with Ms. Noceda, yadda yadda, all that fun stuff.”

“Camila is fine,” The woman murmured, sounding a little dazed.

“Lizard?” Vee hissed, tongue flickering out as she narrowed her eyes on him.

“Right, sorry, snake fits better.” Hunter said before he could stop himself.

“You have permission to beat him up.” Luz said casually, ignoring Hunter’s indignant shout of “traitor!”

“I, yes, yes,” Luz’s mother--Camila--sighed, stepping back and bracing herself against the kitchen counter. “Tonight has been...a hectic one. It’s far too late to be talking about things like this.”

“Does this mean I can go?” Hunter asked, pointing with his thumb behind him. “Preferably without alerting everyone that I snuck out?”

“I don’t know how you got past Hooty,” Luz sighed, tilting her head and beginning to walk towards the front door with a quick, affirming glance with her mother that both had barely managed to make, Hunter immediately following.

“I escaped through your window.” Hunter said simply, and he noted Camila looking up slightly at that, until Vee approached her, murmuring in soft words he knew better than to try and eavesdrop on.

“Of course you did,” Luz grumbled, opening the front door and practically shoving Hunter outside.

“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m leaving--”

Luz stepped out onto the front porch with him, leaving the front door open just a crack, enough so that she could be seen through it, and in turn could see Camila and Vee talking back by the kitchen.

“Am I going to get a personal lecture?” Hunter asked cautiously, crossing his arms as his ears flicked down. “Look, in my defense, you didn’t exactly explain a lot of things to me--”

Luz lunged, and he stepped back and raised his hands defensively. Instead of a mean left hook he was expecting, he got arms wrapped around his sides, squeezing the air out of him.

Hunter wheezed, and would’ve doubled over if Luz wasn’t in the way. She didn’t let up on her hug, and after a moment of trying to get his thoughts in order, he slowly drew his arms around Luz, chin tucked against her head pressed into his chest.

“I’m glad you're okay,” Luz muffled into his shirt, and Hunter may have clung on a little tighter, aware of Rascal watching this all from his shoulder.

“Feel like you said this already.” He managed to get out.

“I know, I just wanted you to know I meant it.”

And if Hunter tilted his head down to press his face into Luz’s hair then, she didn’t say anything.

“Good to see you still kickin’, too.” He mumbled.

“Miss me?” Luz teased, throwing his words back at him as she pulled her head back slightly, and Hunter quickly did the same to look down at her.

“Hardly,” He huffed, clearing his throat to hide how it cracked halfway through. “I just didn’t want everyone leaving me out of all the fun.”

“Uh huh,” Luz raised a brow. “So you just happened to drop by to make sure I was alright on the one night you actually managed to escape the Owl House without being caught?”

“...listen--”

Luz laughed, and Hunter sputtered over his words. He growled and pushed her back and off him, knowing his face was flushing as he turned away and crossed his arms. Luz’s laughter didn’t stop at that, and Rascal sounded like he was laughing, too.

His ears drooped down and he half-heartedly bared teeth, in what may have been an attempt to hide a smile.

“You’re such a massive pain, you know that?” He growled.

“I do,” Luz grinned, laughter calming down to giggles. “I learned from the best.”

“That, you did. That Owl Lady couldn’t be more overbearing if she tried.” Hunter muttered.

“She’s got a bit of an empty nest syndrome, you get used to it.” Luz lightly nudged his shoulder. “It’s her way of welcoming you to the family.”

And he didn’t even have the time to process that whole sentence, because Rascal was fluttering onto Luz’s shoulder, cheeping as Luz raised a hand to scratch at his head.

“Make sure they know not to worry too much, okay?” She continued, looking up at him. “I’ll try and sort this out.”

“Does that mean you’re coming back soon?” Hunter paused, tilting his head. And maybe there was a tone of hopefulness in his tone, maybe.

Luz hesitated for a moment, frowning slightly in thought. She looked back towards the front door, though he couldn’t see if Camila or Vee were anywhere near it, what with the angle being off and Luz blocking most of it. He wondered if they could hear their conversation.

“I think so,” She said, quieter this time as she turned back to him with a small smile. “I... hope so.”

“So do I, they’ll be insufferable without you.” Hunter teased. “Have fun thinking up how to explain to them your apparent promise.”

“Don’t remind me,” Luz groaned, throwing her head back. “Look, it was a panicked situation, and I didn’t want her any more scared than she--”

“Save it,” Hunter said, not unkindly, raising a hand to silence her. “I’ve made worse spur-of-the-moment decisions. Contrary to popular belief, I know you well enough that you’d never stay away for long. You have a habit of being a people-pleaser.”

Luz relaxed, and raised her hand to let Rascal hop onto it. She offered him back to Hunter, and he took the bird into his hands.

“Still, I’m sorry.” She said, wringing her hands together. “For all of this.”

“If all goes well, you’ll get to tell them that yourself.” He said, and attempted a smile.

“Hopefully,” Luz said, glancing back towards the door. “So, that means you’re willing to tell them what happened?” She asked, a pleading note to her voice.

“As in, I tell them that I broke out of the Owl House in the middle of the night, escaped to the human realm, found you when I knew they were going to do the same thing, and then came back to the demon realm without you, just to tell them you’ll probably be back soon, but I don’t know when?” Hunter said, ears lowering more and more as he spoke, raising a brow.

“...yes?” Luz tried, hands clasped behind her back as she looked up at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

“...I don’t know why I put up with you.” Hunter groaned, relenting as his shoulders slumped, letting Rascal fly up onto his shoulder.

“Because you care about me,” Luz teased in a singsong tone, her relief immediate.

“Unfortunately,” He muttered unthinkingly, before the words processed in his head. He tensed right after, eyes locked on the wall behind Luz.

She looked surprised for about half a second before she practically lit up, beaming excitedly at him.

“Anyway,” He said quickly, voice higher than normal, knowing he was flushed up to his ears. “I should be off before your mom gets even more pissed at me.” He said, sharply turning on his heel.

Rascal was most definitely laughing at him now, and he pulled up his hood before shoving the bird into it, silencing him. He leapt down the stairs leading up to the porch, instead of walking down them like a normal person.

“Well, in her defense, you did break in.” Luz reminded, though there was a certain giddiness to her tone as she watched him leave.

“Like you haven’t done it!” Hunter scoffed behind him, beginning to hurry back towards the forest, head ducked low.

“Yes, but we don’t need to tell her that!” Luz hissed, voice notably quieter as she fearfully glanced back.

“No promises!” He called back, a grin forming as he picked up the pace. “Call it compensation for throwing me to the wolves!”

“Wh--Hunter!” Luz squawked indignantly.

He turned on his heel for just a moment, giving Luz a mocking salute before ducking between the trees of the forest, cackling as Luz’s calls of “don’t you dare!” faded behind him.

“Alright, Rascal, prepare yourself.” He said, hearing his palisman chitter from within his hood, with a hint of annoyance to it. “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

155 notes · View notes

shijiujun · 3 years

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[END 2020] My Top 9 Danmei Novel Picks of the Year

As a part of my Round Up post for the year, here’s my pick of favourite danmei novels, that I’ve read! This is sort of an accompaniment to my previous danmei rec list over HERE, so there may be one or two overlaps, but I’ve read WAY MORE after that and am prepared to like give more options here

Note: There should be English translations for all via novel updates if you do a search of the English name, but I don’t think most of them are completed.

If you wanna see my full reading and queue list (it’s all in Chinese tho, for my own records), it’s here.

I’m leaving out the usual MXTX and Priest ones, because they’re already good and we all know that and there’re many carrds and posts dedicated to them.

I am also a sucker for fainting but smart men, and not too overly angsty/complicated storylines, just putting it out there first, which is why I haven’t read a lot of some of the ones on my queue list.

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1. 一剑霜寒 | A Sword of Frost by 语笑阑珊

Summary: Jing Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Jing Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition.

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Jing Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him, and they fall in LURVE pretty much like 10 chapters in.

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

My Thoughts: AN ABSOLUTE FAVE AND GEM, I’d say this is my favourite danmei novel ever. This is both hilarious and tears-inducing, to be honest, because for most of the novel YYF knows he doesn’t have long to live and so in the beginning he knows of his own feelings for JYR and JYR also shows him that he loves him, but he is unable to officially reciprocate because he knows his body is like weakening day by day. Halfway through the fear that he’s literally about to die as they are JUST about to find the cure is real, and damn I cried so much at that. Some highlights:

YYF falls asleep very easily in baths and everywhere actually, and pretty much within the first 10 chapters he gets used to JYR carrying him around (even naked from the bath, he’s like oh well, okay cool) and taking care of him, and JYR ALWAYS makes sure he is warm and toasty under his cape

YYF LOVESSSS RICHES, PLAYING THE ZITHER AND COOKING - He’s good at gathering the first one, but he FUCKING SUCKS AS THE LAST TWO - It’s so funny because he’s so beautiful and handsome right, and when he sits down at the zither everyone is like OH DAMN WHAT A DREAM- and then he plays, and everyone’s fantasies is shattered, he’s ABYSMAL at it, and the same goes for cooking

JYR doesn’t actually have the Blood Red Lingzhi, and throughout the first arc, he feels SO DAMN GUILTY because YYF even carved out a pendant that looks like what he thinks the herb looks like, and like carries it with him everywhere LMAO

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

2. 高能二维码 | High Energy QR Code by 青色羽翼

Summary: CEO Xing Ye’s brother Xing Shuo has just passed away at the age of 24, and nothing will make him believe that Xing Shuo died of natural causes despite autopsies and experts telling him that he really died simply of a heart failure. Xing Ye, who has impeccable memory, suddenly recalls the last time he saw Xing Shuo. His brother called out to him just before Xing Ye left for a business trip, and looked as if he had something to say, but ended up just wishing him a safe trip.

At that moment, there was a QR code on Xing Shuo’s phone, and the phone screen was strangely turned out towards Xing Ye, and Xing Ye, with his incredibly high IQ and memory, realizes that Xing Shuo wanted him to see the QR code. Quickly, he reproduces the QR code by pen and then scans it, and finds himself in a game world.

There he meets a narcissistic but also cute mirror which can speak, and finds out later that his name is Lu Ming Ze. Xing Ye’s mission is to clear the game missions in each round that is set by the black and white cubic game system, a system that continuously tempts its players into giving in to committing sins such as killing someone else, stealing and other things. He soon realizes that if he cannot stay on a path clear of these sins, he will never be able to triumph over the game system and return Lu Ming Ze back to his body in the real world.

At the same time, he gains new teammates and friends for life, and also finds out what role his brother played in this game.

My Thoughts: MY GOD I LOVE THIS. I LITERALLY JUST FINISHED READING THIS YESTERDAY, and honestly it’s one of my faves. I don’t like game systems very often (I’ve read three others so far, and this, and KOD are the only ones I’ve liked) but this one is *chef’s kiss*. So LMZ was born like with a really handsome face, like SUPER HANDSOME, and that’s why he’s like a harmless narcissist that cannot bear to look at ugly things LMAO, but he’s not spoilt, he makes sure that Xing Ye stays true to himself, and help him keep his head clear.

THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS FRICKIN NOVEL IS THAT LU MING ZE STAYS A MIRROR, LIKE DIFFERENT KINDS OF MIRRORS, in the first TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS. I KID YOU NOT. I FRICKIN KID YOU NOT. I swear I was sooo touched starved at the end of the novel, because they couldn’t even kiss?!! Like Xing Ye kisses the mirror, and then uses his thumbs to like hi-five mini LMZ in the mirror back, they can’t even hug. Do you know how empty my arms felt when I read this book?!! And my arms have never been filled!!!!!!

I really like this one because each game world is set up in such a brilliant way, but it’s not so unnecessarily complex that you literally don’t know what the fuck is going on. Xing Ye’s intelligence as he outmanoeuvres every single one of his enemies and convinces his would-be loyal teammates to trust him is so satisfying, world after world, victory after victory.

Humour is also absolutely ON POINT. A lot of it is centred on Xing Ye getting caught in the real world kissing his handheld mirror (LMZ) by LMZ’s parents (who cannot see him in the mirror) and LMZ’s parents going like ???!!!!!!!!

Available: Novel Online | Physical Novel is coming out on 10 Dec (freebies are, you guessed it, a mirror)

3. 妻为上 | The Wife is First by 绿野千鹤

Summary: This is set in a historical setting where men can marry other men, but it’s usually reserved for sons who were not borne by the official main first wife of the patriarch of the family, i.e. a son born by a concubine in a family may be forced to marry a man to keep him from being able to become the next family’s patriarch for example. This is because any family’s next leader needs to be able to have children with a wife who married in as a zheng shi (lawful wife), and not a ce shi (second wife) or any other concubines/mistresses etc. Most of these men who marry other men have to take them as their zheng shi and lawful spouse in a sense, and the same goes for the royal family.

The story starts with third prince Jing Shao, who was forced to marry Mu Han Zhang, a Marquis’ second son, by the Empress and Emperor, thereby officially and effectively cutting him out of the race for the throne. He’s mocked by the public as everyone knows what this means, and for the next 10 years, he neglects Mu Han Zhang, blaming him for his predicament, and deliberately showers his three other concubines with affection in front of him, but 10 years later, when Jing Shao is accused of treason, everyone leaves him except for Mu Han Zhang. They are chased to the edge of the cliff by soldiers, and Mu Han Zhang dies in his arms having taken an arrow meant for him earlier, and Jing Shao jumps off the cliff with his dead body, and promises that if there’s a next life, he will do everything Han Zhang says, and love him.

He wakes up immediately on the night of his marriage with Han Zhang, and realizes that he’s been given a second chance to make everything right. Han Zhang is definitely afraid of him, humiliated and angry when he first wakes up after how rough Jing Shao was with him earlier on their wedding night, and he has no memories of their past life. Jing Shao then sets to SHOWER HAN ZHANG with affection, love and basically everything, because he realized that this is the only person who stayed by his side until the end, and then he falls in love with Han Zhang properly this time, and also deals with every single person who maligned and schemed against him in his previous life, with Han Zhang by his side.

My Thoughts: OKAY BEFORE YALL GO INTO THE ‘WIFE’ terminology discourse and everything, in this case they do use the term ‘wife’ literally, and it’s a position, that while men frequently fall into (there are a lot of male ‘wives’ in this story), is also used to cut off like sons from inheriting the family and the fortune, and even titles. Male ‘wives’ aren’t looked down upon in this setting, in fact, Han Zhang gets a lot of leeway as one, and in his case he was also able to rise up the ranks to be an actual official later on, but the sad thing comes from sons who are most of the time forced to marry a male ‘wife’ for whatever reason, and then they are neglected as the son goes and find concubines, women he actually wants to sleep with - this is sad af yall. I don’t know, on one hand, yay for equality in marriage in this setting, but on the other hand like, damn, must you use same-sex marriage like that argh.

ANYWAY THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVES TOO?!!! I mean, especially when Jing Shao literally just goes into doting mode 200% and Han Zhang is totally like wtf why is he so nice to me is he scheming or something? And then he realizes that Jing Shao is really, really gentle towards him despite his reputation as a cruel, dark military commander, and Jing Shao always smiles at him. In any situation, especially in the beginning, when Han Zhang thought Jing Shao would not stand with him, Jing Shao literally just protects him no matter what, gives him everything, and cries, I love it.

Especially because Han Zhang is the son of a concubine and he was bullied a lot in the Mu family, and the official Lady Mu married him off to Jing Shao in hopes that he would be unhappy for the rest of his life, and I suppose that came true in the first life, but in the second, Han Zhang gets all the love, respect and support he never got before in this family with Jing Shao and that makes me WEEP.

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Kuaikan

4. 死亡万花筒 Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪

OOOH I intro-ed KOD here in my previous rec list. Still one of my faves and all-time re-reads, especially under the covers in the dark hehehe.

5. 你的距离 | Your Distance by 公子优

Summary: Ting Shuang is a student at a German university, and has this handsome professor Bai Chang Yi who he swears kind of hates him. He’s just broken up with his longtime boyfriend, and then goes on this dating app that matches a profile with him based on distance. The app can also show the matched profile’s distance from him once they enter the same area, and Ting Shuang starts chatting with this Chinese guy on the app, who he finds out later, is 36 years old, 187cm in height and wears glasses.

The guy is a little aloof and cool, very mature in his replies on the app, and somehow Bai Chang Yi finds out who he is later, as Ting Shuang starts complaining to him about his professor to Bai Chang Yi. Instead of getting angry and offended, BCY is pretty much amused and finds Ting Shuang cute. A few days later Ting Shuang finally realizes who it is he’s been texting, and after getting past the initial embarrassment and fear, they start dating for real, and they really fall in love!!!!!

My Thoughts: This is sweet and also hilarious af, if you need to like satisfy your sweet tooth, this is definitely one for you. It’s really funny because Bai Chang Yi runs in the same circles as Ting Shuang’s dad, who he’s estranged from because the dad doesn’t want to recognize a son who is gay, and then BCY convinces him later in the funniest of ways, and there’s a small subplot at the end in which Ting Shuang is pretty cool, and yep, short and sweet! BCY in the manhua is handsome af too guys ;-;

Available: Novel Online, Audio Drama on Maoer FM and Manhua on Bilibili,

6. 神木挠不尽 The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post by 绿野千鹤

Summary: Mo Tian Liao, a weapons forger and master who ruled the Demon Tribe, was hunted down and killed by other righteous sects in the region when he managed to forge an incredibly destructive weapon that could end the world. Before he died, he placed the only thing he loved, a white cat, into a hole in the tree behind him to protect it. The only thing he was grateful for was that he did not create a blood pact with the cat, Xiao Mao, because if he had done so, when he died, Xiao Mao would have died along with him as well.

Right before he dies, unbeknownst to him, Xiao Mao who is no simple demonic cat, wraps part of his consciousness around Mo Tian Liao, and MTL’s spirit ends up floating about for 300 years, until he finds a suitable time to return with a body made out of a special tree and its wood. The first thing he does, of course, is to find his white cat, but he’s poor, and the body he has isn’t powerful, so he joins Wo Yun Sect, the only sect that did not hunt him down that day hundreds of years ago.

There, he is chosen by Qing Tong shizun to be his direct disciple, much to the astonishment of other shizuns in the sect, and Qing Tong’s shixiongs. MTL has never seen a person as beautiful and gorgeous as his shizun, and if only he could find that cat (who’s actually his shizun, who recognizes him and protects him, even if MTL doesn’t actually need much protection).

My Thoughts: This was hilarious as well, and so romantic?!!! Qing Tong/Xiao Mao waited for MTL to come back, and the moment he came back, Qing Tong was there ready to grab him, and then before he went to sleep that night, Qing Tong thought to himself, “I’ve gotten my person back, I can sleep well now” and AHHHHH at this point they weren’t even like a couple yet? MTL ‘kidnapped’ Qing Tong when he was a young demon cat by accident because he likes pretty things (like his shizun lmao) and Qing Tong is attached to him because MTL never forced a blood pact on him, and gave him everything he wanted as a younger cat before MTL died. Gosh, a mirror in #2 and then a cat now with this one. XD

Available: Novel Online

7. 破云 | Breaking the Clouds by 淮上

Summary: Three years ago, Captain Jiang Ting and his team of the Narcotics division perished in an explosion due to a wrong call of his, and he returns three years later under a new identity ready to deal with the people who set him and his team up. He’s caught in what seems to be a simple murder case almost immediately and meets Yan Xie, who’s Vice Captain and in charge of this case. Yan Xie realizes who Jiang Ting is shortly after, and begins to unravel the huge mystery surrounding the events of three years ago, and falls in love with Jiang Ting along the way as well.

My Thoughts: Okay out of the FOUR crime/detective/thriller danmei novels I’ve read, the poyun and tunhai (below) series is the one that MIRRORS actual narcotics division and undercovers the best. It has the complexity and depth of the drugs/narcotics world, and both this one and its sequel focuses a lot on the position of an undercover and mole. I liked this one a lot because there are SOOOO many twists especially in the last arc, like you honestly won’t see any of them coming until it hits you? And Yan Xie is such a confident, rich-ass narcissist, and he keeps asking Jiang Ting if he can “just touch” him ONCE lmao, he’s thick-skinned af, but that’s why he and Jiang Ting are so compatible ;-;.

Available: Novel Online, Novel Print, Audio Drama and Manhua on Bilibili

8. 吞海 | Swallowing the Sea by 淮上

Summary: Sequel to Po Yun. Yu Wu is a young-looking new detective under Captain Bu Chong Hua’s narcotics team. Bu Chong Hua is Yan Xie’s cousin by actual relation, but brother in relationship because BCH’s parents died early and Yan Xie’s parents have been taking care of him mostly. He cannot stand Yu Wu, who seems to want to coast through at work and keep to a 9-5 work schedule.

It’s only after an altercation and Yu Wu dumping his nonchalant facade to snarl at BCH that he realizes that YW is actually more interesting and mysterious than he thought, and he begins to try to get close to him, understand him. It turns out that Yu Wu is a famous undercover who nearly died a year ago during an operation, and due to various reasons, he was assigned to BCH’s team by higher ups so he can peacefully live the rest of his life out there. However, his past catches up with him quickly, and his enemies turning up forces him to rely on BCH.

With BCH, Yu Wu’s resentment of having to be an undercover in the past and being so easily discarded by his team’s leaders, and of him being forced to be in the shadows while others can announce their achievements to the world, is slowly erased, because BCH sees him, knows him, and understands him more than anyone else.

My Thoughts: I actually liked this one better than the first one - Yu Wu is such a pouty, angry little thing?! And for good reason (there’s a bit of cannibalism in the book, not by choice when he was younger and in a poor village in Cambodia, where some militants forced survivors in the village to eat the meat of boiled corpses of other villagers, so YW is a vegetarian, like if he eats meat he gets really sick) and the twists here are even more amazing?! BCH really, really, devotes himself to YW the moment he realizes how much he likes him, doing a 180 degree turn. Instead of Yan Xie’s flamboyance, BCH is much steadier, grouchy, like an old uncle, but also looks at things even more clearly than Yan Xie does sometimes. Yu Wu is understandably bitter about what he had to go through, and BCH is the ONLY person who can calm him down, whom he listens to, which I LOVE. Some highlights:

Yu Wu grew up in a poor village and thus loves money, and he fights in underground betting rings to earn more money - The stash of hidden money he collects I think is half for his escape money, but if he happens to never need it, his dream is to donate the money to his village so they can open up a school there - ANYWAY because Yan Xie’s parents, and technically BCH’s ‘parents’ are soooooo rich right, Yan Xie’s mom shows her approval to her son-in-laws (Jiang Ting first, then Yu Wu), by giving them winter pants. It’s kind of like inside warmers, and usually meant for older ladies to wear LOLOL so Yu Wu was like staring at the pants when he finally got them and looked soooo reluctant until Jiang Ting told him it costs $6,000 AND HE WAS LIKE :333333 okie

He acts a lot like a kid?!! He likes eating like some snack but it’s really unhealthy for him, and BCH the mother hen keeps catching him in weird places like the toilet, where he’s hiding from BCH so he can eat his fave snack?! And the whole police station knows not to give YW what he wants in terms of snacks and smokes because once BCH finds out, he makes life very difficult for them HAHAHAHA

9. 穿成反派如何活命 | How to Survive as A Villain by 伊依以翼

Summary: Rich and handsome CEO Xiao Yu An finds out he has a terminal illness (cancer), and dies while he’s reading this online novel, where a king mistreats the crown prince from a neighbouring state which sent him over as hostage after losing a war, and ends up being killed by the crown prince years later (SVSSS much?!). He wakes up AS THE KING, and afraid of dying, he immediately goes about befriending the prince, Yan He Qing. Yan He Qing falls in love with Xiao Yu An while being his friend/hostage/bodyguard, and Xiao Yu An tries to avoid all the deaths he read in the book, while making sure Yan He Qing manages to find his three/four wives, including Xiao Yu An’s sister.

Of course, because Xiao Yu An showed him warmth and kindness, Yan He Qing ends up falling for him instead, and Xiao Yu An is an absolute oblivious idiot because he REALLY doesn’t realize until much later. Yan He Qing ends up declaring war on Xiao Yu An’s kingdom because he is duty bound to do so, but doesn’t hurt Xiao Yu An, wanting to keep him by his side, but YHQ’s scheming uncle drives a wedge between them, and XYA leaves, breaking YHQ’s heart.

They meet again a few years later, where XYA is training to be a physician in a small village and chances upon a severely injured YHQ. There, he realizes that it was all a misunderstanding, and that YHQ actually LIKES, LIKES him, but before they can enjoy this short period of happiness, disaster strikes again.

My Thoughts: THIS WAS really enjoyable, and with the manhua visuals, it is *chef’s kiss*. I think this transmigration version actually delved into the part where XYA is unable to change everything, and if he saves one person, someone else is destined to die, and that moral dilemma devastates him a lot. In this novel he actually transmigrates TWICE, once into the king’s body, and the second time into a neighbouring state’s prince/king’s body, who looks exactly like his modern self after. YHQ is real sweet to him istg, and I like that the epilogues are SUPER EXTENSIVE, including an arc where YHQ and XYA transmigrate back to the real world and everyone who died is alive and close to them, and gets their happy ending ;-;

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

#danmei rec list #stebeee recs #a sword of frost #your distance #swallowing the sea #breaking the clouds #kaleidoscope of death #High Energy QR Code #How to Survive as A Villain #The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post

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bffsoobin · 3 years

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fond

➤idol!yeonjun x non!idol reader, pure fluffy goodness, yeonjun gets teased a lot lmao

↳yeonjun has always been a hard worker; reaching above and beyond the expectations of every person he’d even met and even himself. There was only one part of his life he knew was impossible to better--you. In Yeonjun’s eyes, you’d never been anything less than perfect from the day he met you. He never lets you forget it either, even if everyone else was beyond tired of hearing it.

Word Count: 1,501

Requested: yes!

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, very small sprinkle of angst (self-doubt in reader)

A/N: I wrote this super fast so it may not be my best work but it felt really good to get something out and posted again! Love you all, hope you had a happy holiday!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“Are you sure they want me to come?” You asked, shifting anxiously on the balls of your feet. “I mean, it seems like a thing reserved for just the five of you- celebrating the album- and none of the other guys have significant others to bring.” Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, leaving his shirt halfway buttoned up. Gently, he ran his warm hands up and down your arms. The sun had begun to set at some point while you were getting ready, and the light cascading in through the window opposite you washed Yeonjun in a golden ring of light.

You were so distracted by the sight that you almost missed the words coming out of his mouth.

“Baby, the guys love you. And they want you to be there. I promise. I wouldn’t ask you to come if it weren’t true. Hell, I wouldn’t even be going myself if it weren’t true. I’d much rather stay here with you and cuddle.” Your heart softened at his reassurance, anxiety bubbling away from your bloodstream in a few instants. Humming happily, you crushed Yeonjun into a hug that felt as if it could meld your bodies together.

Yeonjun lead you into the reserved restaurant with his fingers linked between yours with such fervor he might as well have glued your palms together. For that you were grateful though, because the party which you’d expected to be just the other boys and a few staff ended up being much more expansive. You spotted several important producers and a few other idols who had the time in their schedule to come and celebrate with their friends. The thrum of your heart kicked up tenfold as Yeonjun lead you through the crowds, eyes turning to him and his head of bright pink hair immediately. Damn him for always being the man of the hour. The two of you had almost made it to the safety of his table; so close in fact that you saw Soobin waving at you enthusiastically and pointing at a pair of empty seats saved by jackets and hats. Mere feet away, Yeonjun was stopped in his tracks by someone you only recognized vaguely, but knew instantly was of importance. The man was tall, handsome and well dressed, balancing a bottle of beer between his fingers with practiced ease.

As the two of them chatted about the album and general comeback procedures, you felt yourself becoming more and more out of place. For Yeonjun’s sake you plastered on a gentle smile, nodding along to whatever words were being exchanged between the two of them.

“...her name?” You caught the tail end of the sentence just in time to see that the man was gazing down at you. You glanced between him and Yeonjun, trying to collect any information as to why you were being addressed.

“I’m Y/N,” you offered carefully, not sure how they’d arrived at this topic. Yeonjun squeezed your hand reassuringly, running his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Well, I had no idea that Yeonjun had a girlfriend,” the man simpered. “What exactly do you do?” The implication of his words hit you like a MAC truck. What did you do? What did you do to deserve to be here, rubbing elbows with these famed people?

“She’s a student, actually! She’s always busy with school work or research.” Yeonjun cut in, voice rising protectively. “She pretends it isn’t a big deal, but she’s pretty high up in her department, got all the professors to love her. And she’s on track for a really cool internship- right baby?” He shot the conversation back to you, attempting to ease the tears crawling up your throat.

“Oh, it’s not that big of deal, I don’t know if I got it yet, so-”

“Shush, it’s amazing. And there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re the most qualified person for the position. You’re amazing,” Yeonjun beamed down at you warmly, a blush cropping up along your cheeks as you fought the urge to cover your face. Yeonjun quickly exchanged his goodbyes with the man and lead you finally to the table where you could take a deep breath. As soon as you settled into the chair next to Soobin, Yeonjun began to apologize in a hushed voice.

“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t think that he would say anything like that. You know that you’re amazing, though, right? I don’t want you to ever believe that I’m not proud of you, or you aren’t amazing because you aren’t an idol. I love how hard you work at school, I love that you aren’t busy with all the stupid idol things that I have to do. You’re such a positive light in my life, such an amazing person. I’m so happy that I know you. Seriously, I can’t imagine not knowing you. You know I love you, right? So much.” Your heart swelled, pumping so rapidly that it felt like it might fall out of your chest. All of the tension you’d felt during the conversation was completely gone, replaced by a pleasant buzz of happiness that only Yeonjun could provide you with. Despite the business within the restaurant, it felt as if you were in your own little bubble with Yeonjun alone, focused only on the gentle cadence of his voice and the steady heat radiating off of his body. His eyes were soft and round even under the concentrated eye makeup you’d helped him apply before leaving your apartment as he watched you carefully.

“I know, and I love you too,” a smile split your face before you could stop it, straining the muscles in your cheeks until they stung.

“Trust me, Y/N. We all know.” Taehyun laughed, causing the other three to nod in agreement.

“Seriously, he literally talks about how much he loves you all the time. Sometimes even in his sleep he’s asking where you are-”

“Hey! Stop it, you little-” Yeonjun growled, sending a menacing look toward Taehyun.

“No! Keep it coming, tell me more,” happy to encourage the teasing of your boyfriend, you leaned back in your chair and picked at the shared plate of fries that had appeared in the middle of the table at some moment.

“Oh, there was that one time we were in the studio and we couldn’t find him anywhere, like we even sent managers out to find him and everything and it turned out he got caught up talking with some random lady outside about you because he saw her carrying a bag you’d like.” Beomgyu offered, eyes sparkling at the chance to make fun of Yeonjun freely.

“Or the time when we were trying to film an episode of TO DO and he kept checking his phone because he was waiting for you to send a good morning text. The stylists were so mad that he refused to take his phone out of his pocket and they had to give him a top that would cover them.” Soobin jumped in this time, grinning just as wide as you were at the realization that Yeonjun was much more whipped for you than you’d ever estimated.

“And lets not forget literally any time we have extra time at the dorm and want to watch a movie or play a game. He literally always asks if he can invite you. At one point it was like nine days straight and when we said we’d rather not have a guest he pouted in his room instead of playing with us.” Your eyes grew wide with recognition at the story, as you remembered the exact time Soobin was referring to. You had, quite honestly, grown tired of visiting the dorm every single night after class but you did it anyway for the sake of spending time with Yeonjun.

“Did you guys know that he came to my apartment that night and complained that you were being mean to him?” Yeonjun whined loudly at your words, burying his flaming face into his own hands and letting out a defeated groan. He knew it was all true, and he was no stranger to admitting his attachment to you, but hearing it all at once made him shy.

“It’s okay, Junnie. You know I love how whipped you are for me,” you teased, rubbing the nape of his neck with delicate fingers in an attempt to get his head off of the table.

“I am not whipped!” He protests, sitting back up and trying his best to glare at you and his members. His face was still tinged with red, evidence of being caught in a lie.

‘If you’re not whipped, then what would you call it, hyung?” Hueningkai questioned, taking a poignant sip of his drink all while keeping his gaze locked onto Yeonjun. The entire table, sans Yeonjun, snickered together as he opened and closed his mouth in quick succession, trying to find the right words.

“I’m not whipped. I’m just...fond.”

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dothwrites · 3 years

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15.19--freedom

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose/Nothing, don’t mean nothing if it ain’t free, no, no”--Janis Joplin

---

Freedom.

Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom.

It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree.

And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.

He still wakes up from nightmares with those words echoing in his head: You’re dead to me. He bolts upright, almost puking, because he can’t believe his past self, he can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth, to Cas, to Cas of all people--

He splashes water on his face and notices that his hand is shaking. His stomach churns in warning, but he doesn’t think he’s going to puke. However, he also doesn’t think he’s going back to sleep tonight.

He and Sam are in the bunker, but he knows they won’t stay. It’s too empty now, their voices echoing through the halls and rooms. Maybe once, he would have been all right with that, would have even enjoyed it, but now, he can’t bear it. He remembers all too well how it felt to have Jack’s voice bouncing through the kitchen as he talked about the latest movie they had watched, or how it felt to just feel Cas behind him as he moved through the kitchen.

Every time he makes his breakfast, he’s reminded of what he lost. Every time he and Sam come back to the bunker, there’s the sinking disappointment to find themselves alone once more. Dean ends up spending most of his days in his room because anywhere else freaks him out. He can’t stop whipping his head to look over his shoulder, halfway convinced that he’ll find someone standing behind him. He’s always disappointed when he finds himself alone.

He and Sam are going to leave the bunker behind. He doesn’t know when and he doesn’t know what for, but he knows that it’s going to happen.

He asks Sam one afternoon why he hasn’t left yet. Eileen is waiting for him, biding her time a hell of a lot more patiently than Dean would, and Sam still isn’t going to her and starting the American dream life. And one afternoon, Dean either runs out of fucks and gathers up his last little shreds of courage, and asks him.

“So when are you going to move in with Eileen? I can’t imagine that she’s going to wait for your gigantor ass forever.”

Sam looks at him from across the table. There’s a book open in front of him, but Dean doesn’t think that he’s read a word. He knows that he’s been stuck on the same screen on his phone for several minutes. Without the pressing urgency of saving the world, things just seem so...pointless. Which is not necessarily bad. But it means that he and Sam spend a lot of slow, lingering afternoons like this, with just the two of them wandering through the bunker and occasionally bouncing off of each other like two very faulty pinballs stuck in a malfunctioning machine.

“She’s fine,” Sam says, which isn’t an answer. “She understands what’s happening.”

Dean’s glad that someone understands because he surely has no fucking clue.

---

His life falls into a kind of routine. Wake up, make breakfast. Find pointless chores to do around the bunker. Make lunch. Watch some bullshit shows on TV. Make dinner. Have a beer. Fall asleep.

He feels like the worst kind of retiree, devoid of purpose.

Sure, there are occasional hunts, but he doesn’t feel the need to go on them. The world is turning, same as it always did, and there are other hunters in the world. If that’s one thing that he learned through these past years, it’s that he doesn’t have to do everything.

(Plus, he and Sam literally defeated God, so he thinks they deserve some time off.)

The forced retirement doesn’t make him happy. The bunker is the cleanest that it’s ever been and he doesn’t feel happy about it. There’s a gaping hole in his chest that’s shaped like the rest of his family, and he can’t sleep at night. He makes dinner and all he can think about are the empty places at the table.

Sam sticks his head into Dean’s room. It’s a regular day, though Dean doesn’t bother to note either the actual date or the day of the week anymore. Time blends together in an endless cycle of waking, chores, and sleeping, because without a purpose to hold him together, he’s slowly falling apart.

“I’m going to head out,” Sam says. Dean notices that he doesn’t put a timeline on his departure. “You should get out too.”

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn’t ask the obvious question: Where would he go? Sam, slightly chagrined, scuffs his feet against the floor. “Maybe go see Jody, Donna, and the girls? See if Charlie and Stevie want a third on their hunt? Bobby said something about building up his library here.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, with absolutely no intention of following through on any of those suggestions. He’s not quite wallowing in his own grief and filth (every time he tries to crawl back into a bottle, he just remembers the pinched look at the corners of Cas’ eyes whenever he would find Dean halfway through a bender, and that memory effectively nixes any desire he might have had to crawl into the nearest bottle), but he’s not exactly the poster boy for healthy coping strategies either.

“Dean.”

Dean hates that note in Sam’s voice, the oh-so-soft and sensitive tone that could soothe widows and lull children. He hates even more that it’s being turned on him, hates most of all that he derives comfort from it.

“I don’t get it,” Dean finally says, because if Sam is leaving then he might be losing his chance to ask his question aloud. “I don’t get...I mean, Jack could have brought him back. He could have done it. I could have asked him. I was right fucking there, and I didn’t ask.”

He’s dissected those moments in his head until there’s nothing left, and he’s forced to cobble them back together like some Frankenstein of memories just so he can take them apart all over again. Why didn’t he ask Jack to bring Cas back? Why didn’t Jack do it of his own free will? Jack knew how he much he needed Cas; hell, Jack brought him back once before when he wasn’t God. So why couldn’t he do it then, when Dean needed him the most?

“I don’t know,” Sam says, still in that same soft voice. “Maybe...maybe it was like Mom? I mean, Cas made his choice. For better or worse, he made it, and maybe Jack thinks that we need to respect it?”

A thick lump rises in his throat. Cas’ face replays in his nightmares, tear-stricken and yet smiling, peace and grief shining in his eyes. I love you. Like it was the easiest thing in the world to say at that moment. Like it was all he’d ever wanted to say.

“I never...” Dean swallows, but he doesn’t manage to chase away the horrid feeling rising in his chest. “I never said it back to him, Sam. I never...all those times he said it to us, and I never...he died, thinking that no one loved him. The one thing I want, I know I can’t have, is what he said to me.”

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a list of his regrets (there are too many to really list), but if he did, then he knows this would be at the top of it. Cas sacrificed himself, Cas let himself get taken, Cas died, and all to save someone who he believed didn’t love him back.

How could he not know?

Dean knows he’s not necessarily Mr. Subtle; he knows Sam knows. Their enemies damn sure have seemed to figure out through the years exactly where Dean’s heart lies. How could Cas, as brilliant as he was, as insightful, as compassionate as he was, not understand that Dean’s been lost on him, quite possible since the first time he walked through those barn doors?

Sam’s face goes on a journey and it ends up at about the same place that Dean feels. Maybe now Sam understands why it’s so much effort for him to just make it out of his room.

“He thought it was worth it,” Sam finally says. “Even if he thought...At the end, it was still worth it to him.”

You were still worth it, is left unsaid, but Dean hears the echo nonetheless. There’s an accusation there which he doesn’t want to confront, but he has to nonetheless.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” Sam finally says. “I can’t...” When he looks at Dean, his eyes are glistening. There’s a plea for understanding in his face. “There’s a whole world out there that I haven’t gotten to see since...since Stanford really. Since ever. I can finally go out there and walk around and not worry that something’s going to come after me. I can finally...” Sam rubs a corner of his shirt between his fingers. “You always said that I wanted a normal life, and I did, for a while. Then, when I figured that it was never going to happen, I stopped myself from wanting it, because what was the point? When everything we had got ripped away from us, what was the point of anything? But now...”

“If you start now, then you can probably make Des Moines by night,” Dean offers. It’s all he can say, but it’s enough.

Sam smiles, his eyes glassy. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it is. It’s the bonds of desperation and codependency snapping and shattering and reforming into something else. Dean doesn’t know how to love his brother in this new world. All he knows is that Sam deserves to live the life he’s deserved.

Dean closes his eyes.

When he opens them, Sam is gone.

---

That night, he goes up on the roof of the bunker. It’s cold, but not unbearable. There’s a light drizzle falling which strengthens to a gentle shower the longer he stays outside.

Dean closes his eyes and looks up at the sky. Out here, the stars shine clearer than ever before, visible even through the rainclouds.

He can’t help but think of Jack. His son. He can say those words now, acknowledge that Jack gave him everything he really wanted; the chance at a family, the chance to erase some of his father’s sins. Jack was gentle, he was kind, he was loving, he was theirs. And then he was gone.

Cas, Jack, Sam...

“What am I supposed to do?” Dean asks the rain, the same wild pain rising up in his throat. “What am I supposed to do now?”

---

He makes it back inside, damp and cold, and strips himself. He should shower, but he can’t be bothered, so he falls into bed naked and shivering. Not like it matters; no one is around to see him anyway. He falls into a fitful doze and is only awakened hours later by the soft sounds of someone moving around his room.

He bolts upright, snatching his gun out from underneath his pillow, because old habits die never. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes as his heartbeat catches up with his adrenaline. “Sam?” he asks, and then, more tentatively, “Jack?”

His desk lamp blazes into the life with a soft snap. Dean’s heart leaps into his throat.

Cas smiles at him, the same as always, sadness always lurking in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Dean finally understands why he looks that way.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. The sound of his voice sends shivers down Dean’s spine, but the hair on his arms doesn’t rise. Dean understands then.

“This is a dream.” He lowers the gun. His heart slows to normal and disappointment is bitter in his mouth. “You’re not really here.”

Cas’ mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “It’s as real as you make it.”

“Don’t fucking Dumbledore me,” Dean mutters. He rubs at his temples. Somehow, even lucid dreaming has lost its appeal. Talking to Cas isn’t appealing when he knows that he’s just talking to his own subconscious.

“I fail to see what a fictional wizard of questionable sexuality has to do with this.”

“Good to know that my subconscious has your sense of humor down.” Dean glares at Cas. “Why the fuck are you here, anyway? It’s a dick move, even for my brain.”

“Maybe because I’m the person you want to see? I don’t know. It’s your head, not mine.”

“Yeah. No offense, but I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. Or wake up. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I don’t need to see you anymore. It’s just...It really hurts, all right?”

“I’m not real, so you’re not really hurting my feelings.”

“Good. Well, now that we have that sorted out.” Dean punches his pillow as a punishment for betraying him, before he turns back to Cas. “I miss you,” he says, because he’s weak and always has been.

“Dean.” The sound of Cas’ voice always manages to make Dean stop and now is no different. He turns around and looks at Cas.

Somehow, Cas looks more solid around the edges. The lines around his eyes are more pronounced, and if Dean turns his head at just the right angle, he thinks he can see grey silvering at Cas’ temple.

“Sam was right,” Cas says. “I made a choice. That’s what this was all about, ever since the beginning. Making choices, running our own course, picking our own path.”

“Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in,” Dean mutters. The last thing he needs is his subconscious reminding him that once again, Cas decided that he wasn’t good enough to stay with.

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t make a choice as well,” Cas continues, ignoring him. “There’s nothing to stop you. You can make whatever choices you want and take the consequences that come with them. And if you make the right choices, then maybe...” Cas bites his lip, looking almost nervous. “Then maybe I can make some choices too.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue--Cas is dead, the time for making decisions has come and gone--but his subconscious is a dick, and before he can say anything, his dream fades away in a wash of black.

---

Dean wakes up energized. His eyes open into the same room, but it’s different somehow. It’s ridiculous, because the bunker is underground, but it’s almost like he sees the sun shining through his windows. Even the air tastes different. For the first time in weeks, he gets out of bed without dreading every step away from his mattress.

He glances at his phone. There’s a message from Sam along with a picture. In it, Eileen and Sam smile at the camera, their heads pressed together at the temple. There’s still a shadow of sadness in their eyes--they’ve all lost too much to be truly carefree ever again--but they look good. Happy. Whole.

Cas’ words echo back at him, both from the dream and from those last, horrible, terrifying moments.

Everything you did, you did for love.

You can make a choice.

Dean starts towards the library.

---

It takes him three weeks of almost non-stop research to cobble together enough spells to make something that has the potential to work. This isn’t his strength; Sam is much more suited for this type of work, but he won’t bring Sam in on this. If this thing goes really damn badly, then it has the potential to wipe him off the face of the earth, goodbye Dean Winchester. If this thing does what he’s halfway expecting it to, which is nothing, then he’ll have gotten Sam’s hopes up for nothing. He’s not going to expose Sam to either danger or disappointment, not when Sam’s finally managed to get to some kind of happiness.

If everything goes well...

Dean won’t let himself think about that.

He spends two days smoothing out the kinks in the spell, double and triple checking his translations. He gathers his ingredients, and then spends another hour pacing around the library. His stomach is roiling, and his nerves are jittery. He can’t bear to stop, but he can’t bear to move forward.

The memory of Cas’ smile spurs him into action. Cas went to his death a willing martyr for a man who he believed didn’t love him back. He can’t let that stand. If anything else, Cas has to know.

The drive to Pontiac, Illinois takes him the better part of a day. The impala springs forward across the asphalt, almost like she’s eager to eat up the miles after her forced retirement. Dean pushes hard down on the gas pedal, urging her forward. One way or another, this is going to come to an end tonight.

It takes him a while to find the barn. The last time he was here, he wasn’t in his right mind, still reeling from the horrors of Hell and the confusion of finding himself alive. He’d been scared and angry, lost and so very alone. And then an angel had walked through the door and told him that good things happened, that he deserved to be saved. The last little bit might have been a line fed to Cas by a bunch of dickhead superiors, but the sentiment behind it had stayed long after those superiors were all dead.

They replaced the doors which Cas shattered and painted over the walls which Dean and Bobby covered with sigils, but if Dean looks carefully, he can see the shadows of them behind the new coat of whitewash. He touches them gently for a second, remembering Bobby and all of the years which led him back to this place. Then he pulls out his can of spray paint and proceeds to deface the barn all over again.

When he’s done, he sets up the ingredients on the table. The table is where it was all those years ago, facing the doors to the barn. He doesn’t quite believe that Cas is going to pull the same trick, storming through the doors in a shower of sparks, but he can always hope.

“God...Jack,” Dean corrects himself with a wry twist of his mouth, “I really hope this works. Cas, wherever you are, I really hope you have your ears on.”

Dean looks at his translations and begins to speak. He’s hoping that intention counts for something as his tongue stumbles over the unfamiliar words. His heart beats an uncertain pulse in his chest. This has to work. It has to work.

He puts every ounce of belief into his voice, every bit of the faith Cas once accused him of not having. I have faith, he thinks, putting force behind his voice, sending his words rocketing into the dimensions. I believe in us.

What’s real?

We are.

The last syllables roll over his tongue, followed immediately by a peal of thunder. The barn shivers, a ripple rolling through the air to settle over Dean’s skin. Electricity crackles in the air, filling him with potential.

“Castiel?” he calls to the darkness. “Cas?”

There’s no answer, but the spells and research had been unclear on whether or not there should be an answer. He would prefer knowing that Cas was listening, but in absence of certainty, he’ll have to have faith.

“Cas, I really hope you can hear me,” he says. The words bring back the memories of Purgatory and a time when he and Cas could barely look at each other. He pushes those memories away and concentrates on the truth he can feel in his heart, the same truth which has guided him through the years and all the way from Lebanon, Kansas to the small barn where it all began all those years ago.

“I know you made your choice. I know you were happy. But...it’s not the same without you. I’m not the same without you. I wake up and think about you, and you’re the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. Every moment, you’re there because you’re not there. I look at all the places you’re missing and I can’t help but think that everything would be better if you were there.”

Dean swallows. “I miss you,” he confesses to the night. “Cas, I miss you so much. And I want you to come back. Not because I need you or because there’s something to fight against, but just because I miss you and life is better when you’re around.” He thinks of what Sam told him before he went. “There’s a new world out there, and I can’t think of who I would rather explore it with than you, but in order to do that, you’ve got to make a choice, all right?”

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode out of his chest. “I want to share my life with you. I want to figure out this world together. I want to be able to look at you and hold you and experience everything with you. Cas, I want to tell you what I should have told you every single day for years. I’m sorry that I never told you while you were with me. And I’m sorry that the first time I say it, I’m not going to be looking at you, but it wouldn’t be our lives if something about this wasn’t shitty, right?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “I love you, Cas. Not because of what you can do or how useful you are. I love you because of who you are and how hard you try. And I want to say it to you, every single day, for years to come. I’ve made my choice, Cas. Now you just need to make yours.”

Silence overtakes the barn. The only sound is the faint whistling of the wind through the slats of the barn and the quick rasp of his breathing. There’s no flap of wings, no deep voice growling in his ears, no pop of electricity.

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispers, closing his eyes to try and stop the burning behind them. “Please.”

Thunder rolls through the barn, shaking through the wood down to the dirt floor. Dean’s head jerks upright as he scans the barn. “Cas?” he calls, hardly daring to hope. “Castiel?”

A thin, golden thread rips open in the air before him. It looks almost exactly like the rifts between worlds which Jack used to create, but that’s not possible.

It’s not possible, but Dean dares to hope anyway.

“Castiel? Cas?”

A single hand reaches out through the golden tear, and then Dean is moving, he’s practically tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the rift. “Cas, Cas, please,” he’s saying, not quite aware of the words which are tumbling from his mouth. “Please.”

Until his fingers grip the hand, he’s not sure that it’s real, but that’s solid flesh and bone underneath his palm. Dean pulls, feeling resistance on the other end. “No,” he grunts, reaching into the rift. His hand touches skin, and his resolve grows. He didn’t come this far only to lose. They haven’t come this far only to fall apart.

“I want you,” he says, as though the force of his words can rip through the veil. “Cas, please, come home, Cas, please--”

With an almighty heave, he pulls once more and then he’s falling backward, another body tumbling against his in an ungainly pile of limbs and bodies. There’s skin and there’s warm, and there’s weight. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees the rift close up, as neatly as if it were never there at all.

He doesn’t care about that. He can’t, not now.

Dean looks down at the body sprawled across his lap. There are miles upon miles of naked skin for him to peruse, and he hopes that he’ll be able to do so later at his leisure, but for now, all he can concentrate on are those two luminous eyes blinking up at him.

“Cas?” Dean asks, hardly daring to believe. His hands cup Castiel’s face, fingers sweeping a few locks of dark hair off of his forehead.

Castiel blinks at him, his dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. A slow smile creeps across his face, like the dawn spreading across the horizon. “Dean,” he says, his voice the same as it always was, but this time it’s better, because it’s a voice that Dean never thought he’d hear again.

“Cas.” It’s the only word Dean seems capable of saying, but words don’t seem important anymore, not when he can lean forward and press his lips to Cas’, not when he can taste the small sigh of surprise on Cas’ lips. “Cas, I missed you so much, oh god, Cas, there’s so much I want to tell you, there’s so much I want to do--”

Cas interrupts him with another kiss, his arms threading around Dean’s shoulders to pull him closer. Gentle fingers tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and Dean thinks that he could live in this moment forever.

But before he does that, there’s something else which needs to happen first. Dean pulls away, ignoring the small whine of protest from Cas.

“Cas, there’s something I need to tell you,” he starts, only to be interrupted.

“I know,” Cas says, his face splitting into a wide, gummy smile. No shadow lurks behind his eyes, no hint of tears glisten in his eyes. There’s just happiness, radiant and absolute, gleaming from his face.

“I heard your prayer.”

Maybe once upon a time, Dean would have been satisfied with that answer, but not anymore.

“I love you,” Dean whispers, pressing the words into Cas’ skin with gentle kisses over his temple and cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you, and I’m going to tell you every day until you get sick of it.”

“You’ll have to try for a very long time,” Castiel answers, his fingers tracing along Dean’s jaw. “I like hearing those words very much.”

Dean can’t help but kiss him again. As he does so, he feels the lost and scattered pieces of his heart knitting back together until he can finally breathe for the first time in months. “Come on,” he says, once he surfaces for air. “Let’s go.”

It only hits him then that Cas is naked. Apparently rebirth and snagging people out of alternate dimensions results in a distinct lack of clothing. Dean’s eyes want to travel over the skin revealed to him, but he waits. There will be time, he realizes with a tiny thrill of delight. He and Cas have all the time in the world.

He manages to find a blanket to wrap around Cas’ shoulders. It will do until they get out to the car where he has a spare set of clothes. For now, he helps Cas to his feet. Cas looks around him, his eyes wide and huge, as though he’s overwhelmed with the world around him.

“Where are we headed?” Cas asks as they head towards the door. The Impala waits outside, beckoning them forward once more.

Dean grins as the cool night air washes over them. It’s gentle and soft, eternity held in the breeze. There’s a world held within the palm of tonight, a world held within the rest of their lives.

“Wherever we want,” he answers, stepping out of the shadow of the barn and into the world.

As they walk towards the Impala, a light rain begins to fall.

---

“Before, I wanted to say: "I found love!" But now, I want to say: "I found a person. And he belongs to me and I belong to him.”― C. JoyBell C.

#spn spoilers #supernatural #spn15 #15.19 coda #coda fic #destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel #15x19 inherit the earth #fare thee well spn #dothwrites #not beta'd we die like men here

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void-inked-pen · 3 years

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2012 Raph vs Rise Raph - Weapon Analysis

*Slams hands on table*... I’m in a mood and I need to rant.

SO! you all have been waiting for me to continue this series on comparing weaponry and skill between the two series and now it is time for me to discuss my second biggest pet peeve in the entire franchise: Raph’s weapon of choice.

Now, my biggest pet peeve would definitely have to be how 2012 treats the Bo staff as a weaker weapon when it is a staple in martial arts for a reason. Its not weak, its actually quite difficult to learn how to use as you will CONSTANTLY be hitting yourself with it in training just like you would with nunchucku.

However, how 2012 treats the Sai is a WHOLE other misconception. And that would be: the Sai isn’t a practical weapon that should be used as a primary weapon against other martial artists, especially in TMNT.

How could this be the case, you might ask? well, let me explain...

1) The Sai is built primarily for defense

One look at a Sai and you’d obviously assume “oh, that’s meant for stabbing!” but you would be incorrect. The Sais main purpose is to deflect, defend, and manipulate another persons weapon so you can get a hit in. Yes, a lot of counter moves that the Sai have in its arsenal is to try and stab your opponent but that hardly ever works.

Not only is the Sai built specifically to deflect moves, but guess what the weapon was primarily built to defend against?

It was made to deflect Bo staffs and Katana.

That’s right, the weapon is literally supposed to counter Leo AND Donnie’s weapons. Kinda makes you wonder whose weapon is ACTUALLY “superior” don’t it?

Now, I’m not going to say any weapon is better than another, but I am trying to put into perspective how stupid it is to think a Bo staff, which is a STAPLE in martial arts around the globe, is seen as a weaker persons weapon just because it doesn’t have a blade. Treating it as such isn’t smart in ANY form. The instant you underestimate a staff user is the moment you’re unconscious or possibly fatally wounded. Don’t mess with someone who wields a stick.

My main point, after that long tangent, is that Raph in 2012′s whole fighting style is supposed to be based around defense, not offense. That actually, deep down, is the primary instinct of Raph as a character in most iterations. He’s the shield, the defender. But the main issue with 2012 is that they characterize him as someone who “charges in” to a fight. Any other version of Raph, 2003, IDW, or Rise, don’t do that. 2012 Raph basically is trying to fight offensively with a weapon whose role, is defense. And does so poorly at that.

2) Raph uses Sais incorrectly

In the 2012 series, Raph uses his Sais incorrectly in so many ways. Several moves he doesn't appear to even use and he also NEVER HOLDS THEM CORRECTLY! Like, one key thing you have to be able to do with Sais is flip them around A LOT. But I don't remember ever seeing him flip them around into their proper holds.

How 2012 Raph holds them is like this whenever he starts a fight:

How you’re actually supposed to hold them is like this:

Notice the difference? You never point the prongs out in front of you, you ALWAYS keep the longest point flush with your forearm as a means of defense. In this position, its easier to twirl and move your Sais around in the way they are supposed to move.

How 2012 Raph is holding them is primarily the position the Sai takes during a counter. The way he’s holding them is also in general incorrect even in THAT position.

When you aim a Sai towards your attacker for a quick counter stab, you’re supposed to hold it like this because its easier to keep the momentum of the Sai going this way and gives you a steadier and controlled grip. You’re less likely to drop it. You can still hold it by the handle, but its NEVER for a starting position.

This in general is just bad to see. He, like the rest of his siblings, are literally supposed to be close to master level and the fact he makes such beginner mistakes and is so aggressive about it is seriously irritating. he might as well be using salad tongs for how effectively they are used in the series.

Now just as a quick disclaimer, I am not an expert at the Sais and I haven't seen much of Raph past halfway through season 2 so he could be using them correctly later on and I could be incorrect on that side of analysis, but that doesn't mean his weapon of choice is practical.

3) 2012 Raph, and other iterations, weapon of choice is impractical

Yep, this is the main reason I dislike raph in 2012 as well as other versions. The Sai is practically useless in modern day street fighting like this especially with mutants and other random stuff.

Not everyone wields a sword or staff. There are projectiles, claws, and various other craziness out there that they have to deal with... Which is why the Tonfas are technically more practical in a fight!

The Tonfas are meant to do things in a similar fashion as the Sais but the skill and use are slightly different.

The whole point of them is to protect the forearm and add a little extra OMPH when you punch and guard. Not only that, but the way they are shaped adds a little extra length towards the top, so if you’re punching and normally might miss, it adds just a bit more length so you can make contact easier.

Not only that but you can spin the Tonfas and add more force to hit someone hard in the face. (We don’t really get to see Raph do these kinds of moves in Rise which is unfortunate but that’s fine.)

Because Tonfas are also always used in pairs, you can cross them like this to stop stronger blows.

They also are in general a better fit for Raph’s fighting style. Because Raph’s main focus is hand to hand combat and defense, having some extra protection for his arms, a slightly longer reach, and extra force behind hits can go a long way. He can still deflect swords and the Bo staff just as easily and without the overly aggressive appearance of the Sais getting in the way.

The fact that Rise Raph also uses Tonfas is a homage to the old TMNT comics where Raph never used Sais to begin with.

In comparison to the Sai, Tonfas are also a lot easier to animate and you can still do some crazy stuff with them. Overall they suit Raph’s personality far better as well and if we wanted to go deep into a character study aspect of weapon choice, later iterations of Raph using the Sai seems more like he’s weaponizing his aggression vs using his strength to protect.

And this concludes my analysis of the two weapons...

I hope this all makes sense and that I didn’t rush it at the end or anything, I might have forgotten a few things in regards to the Tonfas but all the stuff with the Sais should be there.

Thanks for reading! and I’ll link to the previous studies I did about Donnie and Mikey~ (if you have any questions my asks are open) 2012 TMNT Fight Incorrectly

2012 Donnie vs Rise Donnie

Rise Donnie Fighting Analysis

2012 Mikey vs Rise Mikey

#pen talks #analysis #fight choreography #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #tmnt raph #weapons #im sorry I needed to rant about this because I personally dislike the weapon choice of the sai for raph #to clearify #raph is literally my second fav character and they did him dirty #enjoy!

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

Spa Day

03/04/2021

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader Word Count: 7,559

Warnings: language, depression, past abuse, emotional abuse, fluff

A/N: I wrote this because I have been feeling pretty down on myself. It’s pure self indulgence to make me feel better. I hope it will help someone else and if not, I hope you at least get a smile or some entertainment from reading it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You’re awkward, walking in. Feeling out of place.

This place was for special people. Well, people who mattered.

You’re not sure how you got the voucher. It all happened so quickly.

One minute you were sitting in Mr. Wayne’s office, twiddling your thumbs to expend some nervous energy as you awaited your firing then the next you were being shoved out his office door with a gentle but firm hand at the center of your back.

Mr. Wayne had smiled, his face relaxed and amused.

“It expires soon, so use it tomorrow,” he’d said.

“I work tomorrow,” you’d resisted, no intention of losing a full day’s paid work.

“Take the day. On me. Full pay,” As you opened your mouth to protest again, he quickly lifted his hand to silence you politely and tacked on, “There’s no use arguing with me. Now enjoy it or you’re fired.”

He’d shut the heavy wooden door in your face leaving you standing there, stunned. At a loss to think up a reason to not come here today but obviously you’ve failed seeing as you’re here.

“Good morning!” A young woman with soft to the touch looking blonde hair smiles at you from behind the modern pale wooden counter. The white marble top shines in your eyes.

“Hi. Morning,” you sputter.

“How can we help you today?”

She’s so nice. So polite. Professional. This place is super expensive looking. There’s a crystal chandelier behind you at the center of the small lobby space. Chic sofas line the wall behind you, large pots with dragon trees growing tall add a splash of color to the otherwise sterile and plain gray walls.

Despite its minimalist decor, the office exudes money.

You’re almost at the brink of following the impulse that wants to turn you towards the tinted glass door, but before you can make your escape, the receptionist’s kind voice interrupts you.

“Oh! You have one of our platinum vouchers! Lucky you,” she smiles, genuine in her glee. “Shall I take that?”

She holds out her hands, both of them and waits for you to place the thick and shiny ticket-like paper in them.

Quickly she gives it a read, turning it over and then placing it under a UV light by her computer. An image shines out from under the purple light of a shimmering diamond right at the center of the ticket.

“You’ve got the works. Was it a gift?” She looks up at you, not intending to insult you but you can’t help but feel a little stung by her assumption.

You can’t really blame her though. You reserve all of your best outfits for work. Casual yet distinguished pantsuits and skirts with matching tops or jackets.

Today you’ve chosen a simple floor length skirt. It sits snugly around your waist and hips. Your t-shirt, a simple graphic tee with the words “Touch the Radley House YOLO” printed in bold black letters.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit to the girl, wishing she’d just sign you in and let you go about your day. “My boss gave it to me.”

“Lucky, lucky. You must have a really nice boss,” she admires.

“Well, I lost his company nearly a hundred million dollars and he didn’t fire me, so…” you trail off, still lost as to why Mr. Wayne had been so adamant you take some time off and why he’d been so understanding about the Ronson account.

“Oh,” the girl says, blinking a few times as she tries to process what you just said. “A very nice boss then.”

Her conclusion brings a small smile to your lips because truthfully, Mr. Wayne is very kind. You’ve never heard him berate an employee and he’s usually only tough on his business associates. Members of his board and investors. Like Mr. Ronson.

If he wasn’t so out of your league, you’d even consider maybe letting yourself really look at him. He’s hot for sure, but he always seems so preoccupied. Like he has something he’s trying to keep buried.

Nice, but he has secrets. No one’s perfect.

“Well, we’ve got you all booked in. What you’ll want to do is head in through that door on your right, walk halfway down the hall and the lounge room should be there to your left. Someone will come and escort you to your first experience.”

You observe her vernacular. Every word she speaks is rehearsed and probably scripted to a certain point.

“Thank you,” you give her another small smile, still feeling out of place but a little more at ease.

“Enjoy!” she calls as you cross through the heavy wooden door.

It swings shut behind you silently, a soft hiss at it latches.

The hallway before you is just as simple yet chic as the lobby. The colors are less neutral, a calming turquoise with a black base and a thick silver stripe lining the center of the wall at about waist height.

The doors are pale wood, smooth to the touch. You pass several of them as you make your way to the lounge.

Inside the door to your left at the center of the hall you find the lounge room. Which actually turns out to be a locker room. Smaller than what you would have thought with only about fifteen lockers that look more like small safes. Each one has a digital keypad, a fingerprint reader, and an iris scanner.

“Sheesh…” you observe but pick one and move over to it to set up your passcode, fingerprint, and scan your eye so that you can come get your stuff when your day of relaxation is over.

Inside the locker you find a neatly folded outfit wrapped in sanitary plastic. Completely sealed.

Just in case you’re wrong about this being a spot where you can change, you look for a designated changing area but don’t find one.

With no other choice, you place your purse and keys inside the locker, then slowly begin to strip. Shoes, skirt underwear go into the locker but your nerves don’t let you remove your t-shirt just yet. Untucked from your skirt, it’s easier to tell that it’s intentionally oversized.

After another quick anxious look at the door you’d come in through, you hook your hands into the base of your shirt and pull it up...just as the door opens and a large clearly male body steps in.

You gasp, whirling around in surprise to reclothe your breasts.

Cool air blows against your bottom as your shirt also twists with your movement, but you reach back and yank it down.

“Oh, I am...uh, didn’t see anything?” The voice is deep, smooth. It puts you at ease even though you literally just exposed yourself to a complete stranger.

“No, no. It’s fine,” you tell him, voice strained with embarrassment. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know if there was a separate changing room. I just...didn’t see any.”

“Oh, um...it’s the door right across the hall. But you know what? I’ll actually just step right outside and let you finish.”

That’s so nice…”You don’t have to, I can just-”

You turn around to look at him, keeping your hands on your shirt to pull it down. One at the front. One behind.

Simultaneously, though you don’t notice, both your and his jaw drop.

It takes both of you a moment to find your voices and while he speaks, your mind is busy taking in his massive size.

He’s thick. Muscles bulking through the should-be loose wrap top he’s wearing. Like yours it’s a soft peach color, the same diamond shape you’d seen on your voucher under the UV light etched into the right breast.

With the top he wears loose pants, or somewhat loose around his knee and down to his ankles; there’s a pair of charcoal slippers on his feet. His thighs, like his arms and chest strain against the clothes he’d been given.

It’s clearly too small. You wonder if maybe this place doesn’t carry the outfit in his size. It’s very possible, considering his girth.

“Miss?”

His slightly concerned expression brings you back to yourself, now flustered because he’s caught you gawking at him.

“Sorry, I’m-you just surprised me and my brain’s a little-what did you say?”

“I’ll just step outside,” he doesn’t wait for you to respond as he backs up to the door then pulls it open and disappears through it, closing it gently behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” you gasp, angry at yourself for staring.

He’s hot! You couldn’t help it. He also looks familiar, though you can’t place the face. How you could possibly forget a face like that you have no idea.

While you change, you think about the smaller things you’d notice.

His hair is dark. Black. Curls that are carefully kept in place with hair products. His skin is a perfect pale peach. Not so pink as the clothes you’re pulling on, but it falls under the same shade. There didn’t seem to be a single blemish from what you were able to see.

A small tuft of chest hair had been peeking out of the V of the top. His face had been perfect, yes, but kind. There was a gentleness in it. The small curve of a smile had played on his rosebud pink lips. Not thin. Not thick. They were perfect.

He was perfect.

And those eyes...so blue. Like a clear spring sky. So bright and observant. There’s no way he didn’t catch you staring. Shit.

You note as you shove your underclothes into your locker out of where he might see them, that your own outfit for this spa leaves even less to the imagination than what must be the male uniforms.

Where the handsome stranger had pants, you were given very small shorts. Little more than boy short underwear in length. Parts of your bottom were threatening to overflow.

The top, while similar to the one the stranger wore, also came with a bandeau given the unique look of being wrapped around your chest when it so clearly is just one piece. You were expected to wear this underneath the looser wrap top.

Pulling it shut, you’re still tying the top closed around your waist as you hurry to the door where the stranger must still be waiting.

You open it...but he’s gone.

Disappointment floods through you. Surprising you.

You have no reason to want to see him, but you suppose you had just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness.

With a sigh you shut the door and move back to your locker to shove the rest of your belongings in just as a kind looking young woman no older than the receptionist at the front desk comes in with a smile.

“Are we ready for the diamond experience? You’re a very lucky lady!”

Even though you’re still only halfway sure you even want to go through with this whole thing, her excitement is catching and you find yourself nodding and scurrying after her as she shows you down the hall for your all expense paid spa day.

~~~~~~~~~~

You aren’t used to relaxation.

Not to this degree.

A gold facial? Full body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian kama oil? A rain massage which consisted of you being massaged with several different clays as warm water is cascaded down your body? An herbal bath with murky green water that leaves your skin feeling fresh--like mint but for your skin?

It’s too much!

You’re four hours into your spa session and you’re so sleepy you might pass out in this next one.

As you’re escorted by the same young lady who has been tending to you from the beginning, she opens the door of a long room, the outer wall of which is made up of endless glass panels that catch the rays of the sun.

As you step in, you’re assaulted by immediate drowsiness as your entire being is engulfed in slightly sticky heat.

This isn’t a sauna. It won’t make you sweat buckets. But it makes your skin dewy and your eyes droop.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, suddenly wanting to run before you can collapse to the floor in unconsciousness.

Your escort laughs, “The hot room has that effect on all of our guests. Come, it looks like we’ve got a spot free over at the far end.”

Along this wall of glass, there are lounge chairs with soft cushions grouped in twos, separated by a lattice waterfall panel that tinkles pleasantly as it empties down into a bed of soft pebbles. On the table at the head of these seats is a pitcher of water, glasses, and a set of small handheld fans that one can use to cool off a bit in the heat. Just in case it becomes too much, you guess. Though you can’t imagine it will. The heat isn’t oppressive. Just consuming.

It’s everywhere but it’s not choking or frustrating.

“I hope you don’t mind if we put you next to one of our other single guests? Most of our diamond packages are used by couples, as you can see.”

Your escorts gestures at the chairs as you pass them and sure enough, every seat is taken with couples hiding behind large potted fan palms.

“No, I don’t mind,” you answer in single, as if you have any choice. “How long will I be in here?”

“An hour or so? If you’d like to exit early, there is a small button on the table by your lounge. Press it and I will come take you to your next experience,” she looks back and smiles at you.

You notice that you pass three spots without lounge seats and wonder silently why some of them have been removed. At the end of these empties is where the escort stops. A set of lounges in the very last spot against the wall.

“Here you are,” your escort smiles. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her and squeeze between the potted palms.

Slightly nervous, you look for your unintended partner and gasp at the Adonis you’d thought you’d lost.

The sound draws his attention and his expression shifts from stoic concentration to soft smile, “Hey, it’s you again.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice because you’re too busy gawking again.

He’s not wearing a shirt or pants. That is, he’s wearing shorts. A lot longer than yours, reaching about the top of his thighs, but still short. Like briefs. It gives you a good view of every single muscle in his long legs and you suddenly envy anyone that’s ever had the privilege to ride that thigh.

What the fuck am I thinking?! You give our head a shake and try to focus on his face as he waits. It’s only a second too late.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I-” you avert your eyes and quickly take a seat in your own lounge chair to his left, keeping your eyes on anything other than the mass that is his chest.

Just as you’d thought, it’s covered in a mouthwatering line of chest hair that trailers down onto his stomach and makes an ever so subtle trail down, down, down...down...down…

He chuckles, “It’s alright. It’s only fair you get a good look too, right?”

You’re not even processing what he’s saying, unable to focus for a bit.

“You’re here alone?” It’s more an observation than a question but you answer anyway, grasping at the distraction.

“Yes,” you nod. “A gift from my boss.”

“Me too,” he turns a little in his seat so that he can look at you, but adjusting his angle so that he can still keep his legs up, one propped up as he rests his elbow on his knee. The other stretched out before him.

This draws your gaze back to him and you’re able to pay attention this time and ignore his very distracting body.

“Oh?”

“I mean, not my boss, but it was a gift from a friend. He thought I could use a nice relaxing day.”

The way he says it, sounds like you’re not the only one saddled with what you perceived was a burden or at the very least, a waste of time.

You grin, “Mine too. My boss. I saved the company I work with from a scandal and his idea of repaying me was to give me a spa day. A raise would have been more than enough.”

“Tell me about it,” the man says, smiling with stunning pearly whites.

His smile is gorgeous and you’re enamored again by how sweet he looks.

How can someone look like he can tear the head off a rhino and still look so adorable? It can’t be fair.

“Rent keeps going up and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough to keep up. At this rate I might end up having to move back to the farm.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, piecing together where he might have grown his sculpted figure. Farm work can be grueling.

He gives you a look, assessing your response then waves his hand gently as if to swat away his complaint, “Sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ve got it better than most. You don’t need to be hearing about my problems.”

“No!” you rush to assuage his worry. “No, it’s okay. That sucks about your job. Is there no chance at a raise?”

“Not exactly, I have a uh, a hobby that keeps me from taking more work and I kind of get paid by assignment. I have a flat salary but working extra would definitely help with the bills.”

“What do you do?” you wonder, trying to picture this guy doing anything other than just looking like a God in a spa.

He could be a bodyguard? They get assignments. Construction? Personal trainer?

“I’m a journalist,” he tells you, speaking matter-of-factly as if it makes perfect sense.

You blink, then chuckle and then laugh once.

“What?” he asks, amused and smiling again as you chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just, journalist is not where my mind went.”

He doesn’t seem surprised but he also doesn’t say anything else.

The two of you lapse into silence. It’s not uncomfortable and at least you don’t feel like you need to say anything to fill the dead air.

Twenty minutes pass and you lean back in your chair to relax, sighing lightly and smiling at the immaculate aura that this stranger seems to emanate.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

The longer you lay there, suddenly not sleepy at all, the more your curiosity grows. Turning towards him, you find him already looking at you.

This startles you but in a good way. You smile and the soft curve of his lips breaks into a full toothed smile.

Both of you move your lips to speak, but before you can either of you get a word in a rustle of palm leaves pulls both your attentions behind your seats.

You sit up, twisting a little to look at who’s come, expecting to see your escort or some other spa staff.

Instead you find a woman you’d spotted laying in another spot with who you’d thought was the other half of her couple. Her waist-length auburn hair clings to the skin of her bare shoulders and sides. She’s removed her top, leaving her in her bandeau.

“Hi,” she says to your stranger-wait not your stranger. Shoot.

He looks confused but not unfriendly, “Hello.”

“My friend finally talked me into coming over and talking to you,” she informs him.

“I see,” your-the stranger says.

The girl seems to be expecting something but the stranger just looks up at her expectantly. Awkwardly.

He looks at you and you quickly turn away from their conversation, pushing yourself to the end of the lounge to sit with your hands holding onto the edge, feet flat on the ground.

You try not to eavesdrop but they’re right there.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her, sounded polite but not uninterested.

You can hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, probably pushing her hips from side to side. Her figure is nice. Not like yours. She’s attractive, in a conventional way. In a magazine accepted way.

Your mood sinks the longer you ponder on this random girl and the stranger. There’s an endless string of disappointments that have built you into this person you are.

Insecurities made worse by words spoken by people that should have supported you or those you thought were on your side. Affections misplaced. Kindness taken advantage of. Betrayal. Worst of all the betrayal. Some small. Some big.

You know that you should be less shaky in your self worth. You know that you’re more than the words spoken and the actions taken that brought you to this point. But how do you turn it off? How to fight the thoughts that bring you down?

It’s not something you can do all at once. You know this. And yet feeling bad about yourself makes you feel guilty because you know it’s bad and that makes you feel worse. It’s an endless cycle.

You’re fully wallowing in your own self-pity before the girl even has a chance to answer the stranger’s question.

“Well, I noticed you came by yourself and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner sometime? Or maybe coffee?”

You don’t dare turn back, you just resign yourself to a lack of luck and stare out at nothing even though the view is really nice.

“Thank, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for a date right now, I don’t really have the time,” the stranger says, giving her a diplomatic response.

Letting her down without letting her down.

“Oh, well,” there’s a beat of silence. “In case you change your mind, here’s my number. Call me, if you find some time?”

You hear her retreat and the soft shift of what must be a business card against the wood of the table behind the stranger’s chair.

Movement shifts in your periphery and you see that the stranger has moved to the end of his own lounge, mimicking your pose though he’s much bulkier and takes up much more space.

“That was weird,” he says, a small puff of air passing between his lips as he huffs a laugh.

“Why?”

“Well, she just came up to me, out of nowhere,” he clarifies.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to you.”

The stranger seems to pick up on your mood shift, his face etched with concern as he tries to lean forward, head tilted a little as he strains for a better look at your face.

“Actually, that never happens to me,” he says. A lie?

“How about you?” he checks, probing gently to see if he can get you to talk.

“No. Never.”

“But you’re so-”

“I’m nothing,” you interrupt, the words an automatic response as if you’ve been hypnotized into saying those words exactly. A trained response.

The silence is no longer comfortable, but thick and heavy.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’m nobody.”

It hurts to speak these words aloud. Words that have hurt you in the past. Words that have cut you time and again. Scars left behind by those people that should have loved you but didn’t.

“No one is nobody,” the stranger counters.

He watches you, observing.

You don’t like the front row seat he has to your wallowing. You try to pull yourself out of it but the hole just keeps getting deeper.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, stealing a quick glance at him.

He’s still got his head tilted a little in pure concentration as he watches you, brow crinkled with focus.

It’s not judgement though, just intent. You can tell he’s really listening and it makes your heart flutter. No one has ever listened to you before. Not like this. Not with a deep desire to understand like he does.

He shakes his head, “Was it the girl coming over?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed, “She reminded me of someone I knew. Someone I dated.”

Nodding, he indicates that he’s listening.

You smile without humor, hurt by the memory, “He thought I should look like her. Or...he didn’t say exactly like her, but he said he wished I looked better.”

He frowns, his deep dislike for your story honest, “He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t like, evil or anything, but yeah. Not a nice guy,” you admit, accepting that in that case, it was definitely your boyfriend’s problem.

“But that’s not it?”

You look at him.

“There’s more to it?” he guesses.

You look out at the scenic view finally, not really seeing it but appreciating the colors at least.

“This spa day?” you begin, stealing another glance at him.

He turns to sit facing you, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as his listening intensifies.

“The only reason I got it was because as I said before I saved the company I work for from being dragged into scandal. I also lost a bunch of money by losing the client but my boss was pretty pleased.

“But the only reason I even touched the account was because I was sorta forced to?” Is that the best way to describe what happened?

“How were you forced to deal with that account?”

“Well, I’m not exactly the best with making friends? I mean, I have had friends before. I just--I got really sick a while back and I lost most of them because I cancelled on plans a lot or I didn’t have the energy to maintain contact? Even texting felt like such a chore. Just the act of responding and-I guess they thought that I thought being friends with them was a chore, and that wasn’t it.

“I just couldn’t find the energy to try to do anything. Some days I wouldn’t even eat because I’d have to get up and make myself food and I barely got up to go to the bathroom much less make a meal.

“Anyway, I just kind of gave up and they did to and now, I don’t really have an in with people? I don’t say much and it’s not that I don’t want to talk, I just don’t have anything worth saying. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything? I don’t know. But it affects work relationships too.”

“How?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, looking down at your hands clinging to the edge of the lounge before releasing it slowly.

“It’s really just me getting in my feelings,” you shrug.

“What you feel is what you feel, even if you don’t think you should. Our pasts can affect us well into our futures.”

His encouragement helps, and you feel a little less vulnerable to share with him.

“I work in the PR department. There are six of us in total. We’re a pretty big company. Multinational big. So there’s one of us for every form of media. Since we all work for the same clients, bridging the gap, we usually spread the workload evenly.

“Or, the other five members of my team do. Sometimes they just forget that I’m there and I usually get stuck with the leftover work. I’m not one to complain, so-” you shrug. “But they forget me for other stuff too. Company dinners. Competitions for prizes in the office. Secret Santa. Stuff like that.

“It makes me feel alone.”

You chance a glance at him, and he’s still watching you but his eyes are far away for a bit as if he’s remembering something.

“I know how that feels,” he nods. “I’ve felt alone almost all my life in some ways. Luckily, I’ve made a few friends to help me see things a little differently but that loneliness will never really go away.

“I understand.”

You smile, feeling more and more at peace again with him. Calm, like he really does get it.

He responds to the shift in your expression by relaxing his own. A small crinkle forms at the corners of his eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.

Now that you’re both feeling a little better, you can admit to yourself that you were jealous. Not just because the girl was everything that you were made to think you should be, but because this stranger, gorgeous as he is, is so nice.

He’s sweet and you want that in your next partner. You want to have someone care about you genuinely. You’re a little ashamed of wanting to claim him. Do you even dare entertain the thought?

“Yeah, I think you probably do,” you smile wider, turning in your seat to face him like he’s facing you.

“Now that you know all about my depression, would you like to know my name?” you ask him, teasing a smile.

He smiles more freely, “On a first date? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”

Your stomach tumbles, heart sprinting at his words.

“A date?”

He only smiles wider, your heart stuttering before taking off at double speed again.

You tell him your name and then bite your lip, unable to believe your good luck.

“What about that other girl? You told her you weren’t looking for a date,” you wonder.

“Well, how can I be looking for a date when I’m already on one? Besides, how many girls do you think I can come across before I find another one wearing a shirt about my favorite book again?” he asks, all sincerity.

“Your favorite book is to Kill a Mockingbird?”

His smile is blinding.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he nods, reaching out to shake your hand. “My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”

You take it and almost faint as your head goes dizzy at the soft touch of his skin.

The veins of his forearm bulge as he squeezes gently but he doesn’t actually shake it and instead seems to just hold your hand.

“Wait, I’ve seen your editorials before. You work at the Daily Planet.”

“I do,” he nods.

Your stomach suddenly falls, jealousy raking up along your ribs to settle around your heart to make it ache.

“Aren’t you dating Lois Lane? I thought-you two went to one of my boss’s parties together.”

It had been so long ago. Months and months. You remember Mr. Wayne going on about his friends Clark and Lois. You hadn’t met them, but Mr. Wayne had left to greet them when they’d arrived.

Clark’s own face falls just a tad, a small melancholic shift but it’s not deep. He keeps his smile, though smaller, and nods.

“We broke up last year,” he confesses, still not releasing your hand.

His thumb grazes against the back of it, sending goosebumps up from that point to spread along your arms and the rest of your body.

“I’m...not sorry?” you laugh, unable to help yourself because how can you be sorry about it now?

Clark also chuckles, “You know, right now, suddenly I’m not either.”

Before you can think of something cute to say, your stomach gurgles loudly, announcing to anyone close enough to hear that you’re hungry.

“Oh,” you utter, embarrassed as you finally take your hand back to rub your belly. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a bit.”

“They have a menu here, I’ll grab us one.”

He rises and is gone before you can stop him and holy hell does he have a nice butt.

Watching him leave, you contemplate the way he used the word “us” so casually and wiggle with the pleasure it gives you.

As quick as you can, you look for any reflective surface and settle on the window across from you on which you can barely see yourself.

It’s enough though and you quickly go about fixing your hair which is surprisingly not bad even after all the treatments you’ve undergone.

A soft voice calls your name, the young woman who’s been escorting you.

“Hi, are you ready for your next treatment?” she smiles at you politely, kindly even, her body slightly bent down so that she won’t speak too loud and disturb the other people enjoying the hot room.

“Oh, um...I’m actually super hungry and I was going to order something to eat?”

The idea of being taken away to somewhere that you can’t be around Clark devastates you. You haven’t been this into anyone in so long.

“Oh okay! What would you like to order? Did you get a menu?”

The young woman gestures over her shoulder as if asking if she should go get you one.

“Actually-” but you don’t get to explain because Clark suddenly steps up to loom over both of you.

He doesn’t mean to, you don’t think, he’s just so big and he kind of naturally just looms.

“Hi,” he greets her kindly, and she flushes.

You can’t blame her. She takes a step back to put some space between herself and Clark and she’s seriously flustered. He’s hot.

Clark squeezes back by and sits himself in his seat before opening the paper menu and leaning towards you to give you a look.

You read through the choices quickly and nothing looks too crazy.

“Ooh, this one looks good,” you tell him, pointing down at the bottom of the menu.

“Should we get that one?”

“Yeah!” you reply eagerly, excited for the food.

You’re really very hungry.

“Can we get the gourmet pizza?” Clark asks, “And an order of the mini muffins? What kind are they?”

“Blueberry today,” the girl informs him, back to her composed and professional attitude.

“Two orders of those. And…”

“You don’t offer any kind of burger?” you ask the young woman looking back at her.

She smiles kindly but shakes her head, “No, sorry. The closest would be the sandwiches. We have tuna, cucumber, egg salad, and ham.”

While they sound like normal sandwiches, you have a suspicion that they’re going to be fancy in one way or another.

“Can we have an order of the tuna?”

She nods.

“And we’ll get the chocolate fondue, for desert?” Clark adds, folding up the menu and handing it to your escort.

“Alrighty, and for drinks? We can bring just plain water or perhaps some herb infused tea?”

“Do you have any sweet tea?” you wonder.

She nods.

“Two please,” Clark smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” your escort says and hurries off to put in the order.

Both of you watch her go then when you meet Clark’s eyes, he laughs, just once. Failing to keep it inside.

“Did we order too much?” you wonder.

“I’m hungry too,” Clark assures you.

“I really wanted a burger,” you lament. “I mean, this food will probably be better than some greasy burger but-”

“A burger sounds like heaven. I love greasy burgers. Double meat. Triple cheese. Lots of pickles.”

He makes a funny face, pretending to salivate over the image he’s painted and while it’s a subtle change in his expression, you can tell that he’s more prone to being serious and that makes the gesture funnier for some reason.

You laugh, shaking your head.

He laughs with you, leaning back in his lounge.

You follow his lead, then turn onto your side and shove an arm underneath your head.

He mimics your pose, drawing his long legs up a little to bend them.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with the locker room? I really didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to change in there.”

Clark’s smiles shift to a soft curve of his lips.

“I’m the one that should be apologizing,” he counters. “I walked in on you.”

“But you had no idea I’d be in there half naked, I kinda just thrust my body at you.”

There’s a beat, he looks down at your chair instead of maintaining eye contact, then, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Your neck is suddenly on fire. Cheeks, ears, the base of your belly. It all burns as your heart stutters.

As he looks up to meet your eyes again, those baby blues burning with a striking spark, something he said when you first came in here replays itself in your head.

You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hey, when I came in here, I apologized for staring at your naked upper body and you said that it was only fair I get a good look too.

“Are you saying you saw me when you clearly said you didn’t in the locker room?!”

Clark averts his eyes, clearing his throat loudly before throwing himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna have to get my friend something really good in return for gifting me this spa day,” Clark says, pointedly changing the subject.

But he has a point. This has been the best little indulgence you’ve ever given yourself and none of it could have been possible without Mr. Wayne’s generosity.

“Me too. I’ll have to make sure my boss knows how glad I am that he forced me to come here.”

Clark smiles, “What’s your next treatment? Did you pick them before you came?”

“We could do that?” You gasp.

Clark just smiles wider.

“No, I’m just going with the flow. The girl who took our order has been suggesting stuff and I’ve just been going with it.”

“I have a fresh water soak after this. You should join me.” Clark offers.

After the hot room, a swim in some fresh water sounds like heaven. And extending your time with Clark is a definite bonus.

“Aren’t we not supposed to swim for thirty minutes after we eat?” you tease.

Clark chuckles, “It’s a soak.”

Then, his voice shifts and you’re knocked breathless as he basically pleads with you.

“Join me. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Your brain is buzzing with that pleading voice of his. Gentle urging that betrays his want to be with you rather than wanting to control you.

“A fresh water soak sounds amazing.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing could ever top today. You and Clark stuck together the rest of the day. It was fun getting to know him and exciting because the longer you two spent time together, the closer he sat to you.

As you dropped your spa outfit into a canvas souvenir bag that your attendee had given you at your last treatment--a couple’s massage that you and Clark had talked all the way through--Clark peeked around his own locker door, shutting it.

“So, I was thinking,” he began, moving to lean beside your locker as he towers over you, making you internally swoon with the curve of his lips.

“Yeah?” you urge him on, taking your other belongings and throwing them into the canvas bag along with your spa outfit which is also free for you to take.

“I have some things to do tonight but, how would you like to get some burgers tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me out on a second date, Clark?” as much as you wish you could sound like you were teasing, your excitement betrays you and Clark beams at your tone.

“Definitely,” he says low and deep.

Fuck, you’re totally screwed. You’re falling hard.

You really want to reach up and gently slide the curl falling on his forehead to the side lightly, but you resist the urge.

“I’d love to go out and get greasy burgers with you,” you bite your lip and Clark’s expression shifts a bit more serious but there’s a fire in his eyes, a darkening as his pupils dilate that makes your heart stutter.

“Come on,” Clark nods towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

He bumps into you, flirtatiously nudging you as he leads you out and you return his gentle push with your own.

“Had you been to a spa like this before?”

“No,” Clark shakes his head. “I actually don’t get much benefit at these places. It feels good, but it’s not really my thing. You?”

“I feel cleaner than I ever have,” you scoff. “But I could never afford it. Even the cheap places. I’d rather just take a walk around a park or something.”

“Me too,” Clark agrees, smiling.

As the two of you walk out into the parking lot, the cooler air outside feels pleasant against your treated skin.

In the setting sun light, Clark looks especially good and you can’t help yourself. You steal several glances at him with no worry as to hiding it.

You’re happy to see he’s doing it too.

“Oh good,” a familiar voice interrupts, pulling your feet to a stop as you search for your boss’s face. “You two met.”

“Wait, us two-?”

“Bruce?” Clark also stops beside you, eyes narrowed, a crinkle between his eyes.

You look between the two of them, confused but starting to put two and two together.

“Bruce? You-Mr. Wayne is your friend who gave you the voucher?” you realize.

Clark looks at you, his own realizations starting to manifest.

“Bruce is your boss?”

Mr. Wayne moves towards the two of you, hands shoved into his long charcoal gray coat. There’s a satisfied grin on his handsome face, a pride in what you realize must have been a carefully crafted maneuver.

Clark looks at you, a knowing smile on his face as if amused but maybe also a little irritated? Not with you, of course. Clearly his annoyance is with Mr. Wayne.

“You did this,” he accepts, looking back at Mr. Wayne with a tilt of his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wayne denies. “I just gave you two a free day at the spa. Did she tell you why I gave her the voucher?”

“She did,” Clark nods.

“Not every PR rep would overlook a five hundred million dollar investment in order to keep us clean from associating with a suspected illegal arms dealer. Most of them would just look the other way.” Mr. Wayne brags.

A look of understanding crossing Clark’s face and he looks down at you, smiling again as if he’s pieced together a puzzle.

“It was really nothing, Mr. Wayne, and thank you for today. I-I’m actually really glad I came. I would have hated it if the voucher expired.”

“Expired?” Clark asks, turning that confused look back on his friend. “They don’t expire.”

Mr. Wayne clears his throat and turns his full body away from you both, looking back at his shiny expensive sports car.

“Yeah, they do,” he says.

“Bruce,” Clark chides.

“We’re gonna be late,” Mr. Wayne says, ignoring Clark’s reprimand, then looks at you as he pretends he wasn’t just caught in a lie. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, I brought my car,” you gesture at a modest white sedan parked a few spots over.

“Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Clark?” Mr. Wayne urges him, then walks towards his car.

“I’ll be right there,” Clark tells him, then waits for you to lead the way to your car.

Your heart is still thrumming rapidly with the realization that Mr. Wayne went out of his way to make sure you and Clark met. A set up?

You stop by your car door and unlock it. Clark is quick to take the door from you as you open it and he holds it with his left arm as you turn to look up at him.

“I had a lot of fun today, despite the obvious premeditation of us meeting,” you scoff. “I’m glad I met you.”

You’re quickly becoming acquainted with the gentle curve of Clark’s lips, the peek of his pearly whites as he blushes and meets your eyes.

“I’m glad Bruce interfered,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow for burgers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you assure him.

After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and places his hand on your bicep then traces the length of your arm until he can take your hand.

It sets your skin on fire. It makes you dizzy and breathless.

“You have my number,” you remind him, eager to reconnect if he has the time.

He gives you that pearly smile, blue eyes full of excitement, “I’ll call you later. Tonight?”

You nod, “Tonight.”

He waits for you to get in, shutting the door for you when you’re sitting.

You lower the window as he backs away, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he nods, then turns to meet Mr. Wayne at his car.

“What?” Bruce asks, “It’s been months. She’s perfect for you.”

“Really?!” you can hear Clark demand, more annoyed with his friend again than any consequences his actions might have brought, however positive.

“You like her, don’t you?” Mr. Wayne asks.

“That’s not the point, Bruce. Boundaries.” Clark reminds him. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I knew you were coming today, I had to get her here,” Mr. Wayne explains. “Besides, you’re-”

As their doors shut, you’re cut off from their distant conversation. You shut your window, watch them speed out, and smile to yourself at the unexpected turn your spa day took.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark x reader #dceu fanfiction #dc fanfiction #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc oneshot

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

Mistexting Mayhem

Pairing: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 1.6K

Summary: You accidentally send Nishinoya a text that was meant for Yachi and now he’s knows secrets you were hoping he never found out

A/N: If you think this fic is anything but crack you’re wrong lmao I’ve always wanted to write a fic with this style and Noya is great for the chaos i needed. It was fun

Masterlist

[6:40pm] idiot⚡: look y/n without adhd id be too powerful

i could beet god himself in handtohand combat

god was afraid of my raw fuckin awesomeness wen i bursted from the woom

[6:41pm] y/n: there is so much wrong with what u just said

[6:41pm] idiot⚡: i have absoltly no clue wat

[6:43pm] y/n: put those 3 brain cells to work. I believe in you

[6:43pm] idiot⚡: but theyve reached their daily quota

plz there so tired and overworked

You snorted, a dopey smile on your lips as you laid surrounded by textbooks and homework, swinging your feet in the air behind you. You focused intently on the cell phone in your hand doing everything you could to procrastinate the schoolwork around you.

[6:44pm] y/n: noyas so stupid

[6:44pm] yachi❤: i thought you liked him?

[6:45pm] y/n: jeez Yachi. dont come for my throat

i cant help that i have bad taste 🙄

[6:46pm] yachi❤: if it helps he tripped over a stray ball today

maybe think of that till you don’t like him??

Unfortunately, the image of Nishinoya waving to everyone then biffing it only had you smiling like a dork. How you’d gotten to a point that Nishinoya being an idiot made you swoon, you’ll never know.

You raised your eyebrow suspiciously at the new notification on Snapchat from ‘Tanaka’ and after swiping it open you nearly dropped your phone. Looking back at you was Nishinoya, his head tilted and eyebrow quirked in confusion with a gari-gari kun shoved halfway down his throat. The caption at the bottom reading ‘daaaammn look at your prince charming go 😩’.

You frowned at the picture, letting out a frustrated groan at how your heart accelerated against your ribcage. You quickly tapped out of it and reopened the messenger app.

[6:57pm] y/n: we have to kill Noya

[6:57pm] idiot⚡: we??? what kind of mission is this??? 😤

[6:58pm] y/n: i like him too much. he has to die. its for my own good

You waited impatiently for her response and almost debated doing your homework since it took longer than you felt necessary. You supposed you had suggested murder to Yachi, but still…

When you finally received a response your entire body froze.

[7:11pm] idiot⚡: U LIKE ME?!?!? 😍

UR KILLING ME?!?! 😢

IM SO CONFUSED......

and a lil turned on ngl👀

Your hand covered your mouth in horror as you processed what the hell you had just done. This didn’t happen to people in real life. Mistexting was stuff people made up when they created fake texts for social media to get likes. You didn’t think people actually went through this.

You opened new notifications to escape the hell that stared you straight in the face.

[7:15pm] Tanaka💪: Yo, whatd u do. Whys Noya having a panic attak

[7:16pm] y/n: I accidently texted him instead of Yachi and told him i liked him 😣

[7:16pm] Tanaka💪: O wtf thats hilarious 😂

[7:17pm] y/n: ITS NOT HILArIOUS

[7:18pm] Tanaka💪: Hes askin if its a prank. Wat do i do?

[7:19pm] y/n:I DONT KNOW SDKFHJN IM THE IDIOT WHO STSRTED IT

He stopped responding and you banged your head against your pillow anxiously.

[7:23pm] y/n: YACHI ITOLD NoYA I LKED HIM AND NOU HE NOS WAY DO JI DO!?!????! 😭😭😭

[7:23pm] idiot⚡: THIS ISNT YACHI!!!!

HOLY FUKC U DO LIEK ME!!!

You screamed into your pillow. Were you fucking kidding? This could not be happening.

[7:25pm] Tanaka💪: dude, twice? i cant save u now 🤪

[7:25pm] y/n: betraying me in my time of fucking need? i’ll remember this asshole

[7:26pm] Tanaka💪: so vulgar 👀

You growled at Tanaka’s uselessness and bravely peeked through one eye as you went back to your conversation with Nishinoya.

[7:24pm] idiot⚡: STOP IGNORING ME I KNO UR TEXTING RYU

[7:26pm] idiot: IM GONNA KEEP SPAMMING U TILL U ANSWE RME😤

[7:26pm] idiot⚡: 1

[7:27pm] y/n: what is this twitch chat? fuck

[7:28pm] idiot⚡: your heeeeererererreee 🥰

[7:29pm] y/n: soooooo………..

clearly there has been a misunderstanding

[7:29pm] idiot⚡: oh nonono. I understand PERFETCLY. u LOVE me

its ok. this is a safe space. we can discuss feelings 😌

[7:31pm] y/n: there are zero feelings to discuss

[7:31pm] idiot⚡: then y did u say u like me too much so i have to die?

[7:34pm] y/n: i am filled with rage 🤬

[7:34pm] idiot⚡: rage over how much u liiike me???🥰🥰🥰

[7:36pm] y/n: definitely not

You racked your brain for some kind of reasonable sounding excuse, eventually landing on:

[7:36pm] y/n: It was autocorrect

[7:36pm] idiot⚡: HAH????? FROM?????

[7:38pm] y/n: HAH???

....Nora?

[7:38pm] idiot⚡: Who TF is nora???? 😡

[7:39pm] y/n: someoe i like obviously 😏

[7:40pm] idiot⚡: so u like them but u use my name so much it autocorrected to me? 🤔

[7:44pm] y/n: OK MR DETEcTIVE WHERE TF ARE THES BRAIN CELS COMIN GFROM?

[7:45pm] idiot⚡: i pull them out for special ocasions 😌

[7:45pm] y/n: well how bout you pack those up and put em away

[7:46pm] idiot⚡: how bout two people who LIKE each other SAY something so they can DOOOOOOOO something bout IT 🙄

You began typing a frantic message about how it was none of his business until you processed the message. Then you read it over several times before letting out an audible, “what the fuck.”

[7:50pm] y/n: YOU LIKE ME

[7:50pm] idiot⚡: I FLIRT WITH U ALL THE TIME WAT DO U MEAN yOu LiKe Me!?!

FUCKING OBVIOSLY

[7:51pm] y/n: literally when. name one time.

[7:52pm] idiot⚡: I WALK WITH U EVERY MORNING!!!

[7:53pm] y/n: I thought that was a coincidence???

[7:54pm] idiot⚡: I BRNIG U SNACKS DURING LUNCH!!!

[7:54pm] y/n: I thought they were leftovers??

[7:55pm] idiot⚡: …....I call you cute and invite you to my games.

[7:56pm] y/n: you call everyone attractive and i thought there was like a audience quota or something........?

[7:57pm] idiot⚡: ….i cant tell who i should be upset with rn but i think its u 😑

[7:58pm] y/n: WAT WHY!?!

[8:00pm] Idiot⚡: I LIKE U+U LIKE ME=WE LIKE EACH OTHER

[8:01pm] y/n: whoa. slow down. I hate math 😣

[8:02pm] Idiot⚡: ===WE SHUD GO ON A DATE!!!

[8:02pm] y/n: HAH!? i think you started multiplying that addition problem buddy 🤨

Your cheeks were beginning to ache from how wide your dopey grin was. You couldn’t help but tease Nishinoya-it was second nature at this point-even if you now knew your feelings were mutual.

[8:04pm] idiot⚡: i suk at math but thats NOT the point

point iiissss i think deep down u want to hang out and cuddle and fall in love

maybe even..... 😏 kiiisssss

[8:04pm] y/n: WHOA WHOA WHOA

WARN ME BEFORE YOU GET NSFW

i would never premarital eye-contact. let alone k🤢ki-🤢🤢kiss🤢🤮🤮

[8:05pm] idiot⚡: well we would have socks on 🙄

[8:06pm] y/n: oh. well if there’s protection

[8:06pm] idiot⚡: Im not a maniac

[8:07pm] y/n: i suppose as long as you dont do something stoopid

like faceplant in public

that would be humiliating

[8:08pm] idiot⚡: I-

who told you that 😠

[8:08pm] y/n: i have spies everywhere noya

youre never safe

[8:09pm] Idiot⚡: kinda hot 👀

makin me fear for my life like that👀

[8:10pm] y/n: i hate that i like you

It kills me inside

i feel braincels leaving with every conversation

[8:12pm] Idiot⚡: fan behavior 😏

so am i taking u to eat tomorow or wat?

[8:14pm] y/n: if I HAVE to 🙄

[8:14pm] Idiot⚡: No u GET to

I am a fucking delite 😤

[8:15pm] y/n: whatever helps you sleep at night

[8:15pm] Idiot⚡: nothing helps me sleep at night. this mind never rests

[8:16pm] y/n: thinking 24/7 and still not a smart thing comes out of that mouth 👀

[8:17pm] Idiot⚡: yas, bully me more 😫

[8:19pm] y/n: ok thats as much as i can handle for one day......

im gonna pretend to do homework

[8:20pm] idiot⚡: okie... good luck my sweet baby pogchamp 🥰

[8:20pm] y/n: no

[8:20pm] Idiot⚡: 😘😘😘

[8:22pm] y/n: 🙄✋

[8:23pm] Idiot⚡: oh FUCK yas 🥵 shut me UP

[8:25pm] y/n: suddenly all i feel is endless regret

[8:26pm] Idiot⚡: i have that effect on people

See you tomorrow 🥰🥰🥰

[8:27pm] y/n: unfortunately 😘

[8:27pm] idiot⚡: 🥵

You flung an arm over your eyes and let a small giggle bubble up from your chest. Nishinoya was probably the biggest idiot you’d ever met, but you couldn’t help that thinking of spending time with him had you kicking your feet with excitement.

You supposed you should actually get started on your homework. You reached forward when a notification popped up from Yachi, asking if her idea worked and you had stopped liking Nishinoya.

...you should probably break the news, huh?

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya scenarios #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu #tanaka ryuunosuke #yachi hitoka #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #hq nishinoya #nishinoya #nishinoya yū #haikyuu #nishinoya yuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!!#haikyuu x y/n

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad.

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return.

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land.

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly.

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great).

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman best wingman obviously #not really he just couldnt bear to see the both you be so painfully awkward with eachother bye #but hey he helped at the end of the day

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years

Note

Second ask with local crackhead sib.

Imagine the mf bros, being with SO long enough that Sib actually completely, blindly trusts them and they have same trust kinda back. Now what boss wanted to prevent, actually happened. The sib is following them sometimes around like a lost puppy, and somehow the other gangs don't attack sib for like, actually several reasons. They have learned, after once kidnapping the sib, that sib is not only fully capable of break peoples mind with the cursed shit they spout but they might look cubby, fluff and all. Just hug material, but the strength hidden in them is big. They just end up beating people up will sayin 'i am sorry but i gotta go home, i have a math exam the next day :(' 'im sorry' and such. Sib is still sib, a beanie bby.

Also, image Boss one day perhaps scolding sib, the brothers behind him do to (probably that day they were kidnapped by the other gang) and Don walks up form behind sib and pats their head and says good job. Apparently, sib wanted to impress skeles and stole some funky looking files and brought them back home. Turns out it were some important files from the other gang and such. Sibs just having this happy expression that screams 'DID I DO GOOD?'

SO is in the background, watching, internally screaming because their sibling got kidnapped and went Bruce Wayne but goldeb retrieve still on the other gang. From where do they have thsi strength? Sib confess that they went training because they thought they would get really good at hugging after training. Well, they do give good hugs. Lmfao

Cursed siblings power is too great for this world

Snipe: this is literally his worst nightmare. First, this kid is completely unpredictable, which snipe hates. Second, now Don likes them and has low key given them a job in the mafia. Third, because they’re related to his SO, that means that snipe is responsible for any havoc they create. He’s gonna curl up and cry underneath his desk for a bit

Bruiser: by this point, bruiser has acknowledged that your little sibling is immortal. So he doesn’t mind if they tag along on his rather dangerous adventures. If anything he welcomes the company. And seeing them jump cash is double the fun! But when they get kidnapped, bruiser is PISSED. Not his funky little monkey. Even if the kid gets back sage, bruiser is gonna want to plot some revenge

Ace: ok, so uh he might’ve underestimated kid sibling a bit. Ace always just saw it as a mixture of adhd and lack of common sense, but this kid has actual skill to back their chaos up. Plus, Don likes them so now ace has to make sure they stay in his good graces. Looks like he has a little apprentice now. The world will never recover

Slim: he stopped feeling ages ago. When he finds out chaos sibling went terminator oh their kidnappers butts, slim isn’t even surprised. Hey, at least they made it back in time for super smash bros night

Butch: he already had a daring rescue set up for sibling and bursts in while they’re already halfway through beating their kidnappers. Butch helps finish the job alongside sibling, and they share a wonderful bonding moment. After all, who do you thinks been training them? Butch is also super good at “hugging”

Boss: after this whole mess goes down, boss decides that if he can’t escape the chaos, might as well utilize it. For sneaky and disrespectful workers, boss punishes them by siccing sibling on them for the day. His goons have never been more obedient

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #mafiatale #mafiaswap #mafiafell

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

meeting points

description: because overcoming heavy traffic is the new crossing oceans for people member: jisung / han genre: fluff, college au, not-so-long distance au, city life au, best friends to lovers au word count: 9.4k warning: explicit language, drinking, suggestive, food, traffic, heights, a clown note: i want to throw fists at han jisung but like with affection y’know

one - a new cafe

For almost 2 years now, you and Jisung have what Seungmin has once referred to as a semi-long distance friendship—only semi since you attend universities literally 20 minutes away from each other when there’s no traffic and friendship because, well, you’ve been best friends since high school. It’s not that you don’t have other friends who attend SNU like him or vice versa (but Yonsei University); rather, it’s that Jisung is the slowest replier in the world and you’re the second clingiest person in the world (just behind Hyunjin). Seeing each other in person as much as you can is an absolute must in order to keep Jisung from fully becoming one with his dorm, you sane from the academic pressure of tertiary education, and your overall friendship afloat. College students need to stick together somehow.

Unless it’s a bigger hangout with your mutual friends, you alternate locations depending on who has a heavier deadline to attend to afterward. When Jisung finds himself struggling to finish a song or needs to be at the campus radio station with the rest of 3racha later on, it’s you taking the bus to his university dorm; when it’s you slumped on term papers for your core subjects or on visual props your club needs, Jisung convinces Minho to let him carpool (since his night part-time job is on the way to your university).

But even then, it’s more often that you make the tedious travel. Like today.

On this particular day, it’s you seated on a bus and looking outside the window to pass the agonizingly slow time, sighing for the nth time at the evening rush hour. It’s only 6:20 PM on your phone and your bus is already on the connecting bridge but the endless sight of cars behind and ahead of you, against the darkness of the Han river and the bright city lights, doesn’t make you feel like you’ve crossed any distance. Jisung’s last text was a simple “stay safe” almost an hour ago when you got on the bus from the nearest stop outside your university.

The two of you are you supposed to try the new cafe inside his campus for dinner since your recent hangouts have only been inside his dorm (with Hyunjin too since they’re roommates), watching old movies and eating take-out until Jisung accidentally falls asleep from power working beforehand. It’s nearing the semester break and everyone’s been sort of busy at SNU, but lately, Jisung’s been actually making an effort to make time for you and insisting that you hang out at the expense of his sleep.

Backwards thinking but okay, you shrug one shoulder at the thought. You’ve talked about it once on call when his sudden initiative to meet started since you’re concerned about his well-being and that you have all the time in the world once break starts but Jisung unexpectedly fell asleep halfway and Hyunjin had to end the call. Two days later, Jisung texted you that he rented the movie you wanted to watch at the cinema for the weekend with an apology for falling asleep and assurance that he’s almost finished with his deadlines and that he’s asking you to hang out responsibly.

It’s not like you don’t like it, you are already on the way to SNU, after all. Besides, you’re still very much free from heavy academic and club activities since your professors scheduled their deadlines after the break and your club is not as active lately. Have fun now, suffer later as Seungmin and Changbin have told you when you told them your worries about Jisung’s sleep schedule.

After a while of trying to count the cars on the bridge as your lane moves a little faster now, you open your phone and message Jisung to pass the time. You don’t always expect that he replies but it’s always the most reassuring when it’s him you’re contacting, even when it’s just casual.

y/n: don’t u have radio tonight? [sent 6:32 PM]

You’ve heard 3racha’s campus radio show on the several times you hung out at SNU during the day. They air live on Friday nights, Saturday if most of the all-student crew are busy, but the meetings are rather frequent when nearing holidays so you’re careful of leaving on time even on a non-Friday weekday like this.

y/n: just crossed ynghwa

y/n: bus is driving steady now!!! aaaaak

jisung: almost typed ‘arent u supposed to be looking at d road’ then i rmmbr that u don’t have a car LOL [sent 6:56 PM]

y/n: so do u have a meeting later?

jisung: no

At their dorms, Hyunjin is out for the night to god knows where but Jisung is quite certain it’s not for studying since he was dressed to the nines. When he got a text from you, he slowly but surely forced himself to stand up from his work area to get dressed. Though he’s the one who insisted on hanging out, it doesn’t change the fact that leaving his work is hard when he’s in his ‘zone’ but he has to since the new cafe’s apparently a 3-minute walk from his dorm but he has to meet you at the bus stop first.

y/n: ur probs not even dressed yet

y/n: close that laptop nerd

Jisung couldn’t bring it in himself to reply because he was already preoccupied avoiding getting dissed by you again whenever he wears his favorite Supreme t-shirt.

You arrive at the bus stop at around 6:50 PM, just as Jisung arrives, panting heavily from running the remaining distance when he received an ‘almost there’ message from you. You offer him a bottle of water you forgot to take out from your backpack and he quickly swipes it from you, chugging down the contents as if his life depends on it. “Woah there, haven’t seen you in a long time. Drink slowly and breathe.” You rub his arm comfortingly as the two of you stand on the empty sidewalk. Behind you, your bus drives away. “You didn’t have to run, you know, I could’ve just met up with you wherever you are.”

He then stops drinking just to breathlessly say, “But it’s dark and there could be creeps out.”

You’re touched but still concerned. “Still. I have you on speed dial, remember?”

When Jisung’s fully recovered, the two of you walk to the cafe together, catching up on what’s happened in your own lives in the past week since you last met. There’s not much, actually, since Jisung really doesn’t go out often unless it’s for classes, the radio show, or some of his other friends insisted and you’re almost always with your dorm mates, Lia and Ryujin, or with Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin.

“Minho says they have good Americano.” Eventually you arrive and Jisung immediately points to the several posters on the window, showcasing the cafe’s specialty.

“And how many days have you been running only on Americano?” You point out in an almost scolding tone. You approach the counter now where there are barely any people in line since most customers are already seated.

“Not that long!” He holds up his hands in the air. “Just 2 weeks!”

“Jisung!”

He imitates you dramatically with,“Y/N!” to which you only roll your eyes to.

“Good evening, how may I take your order?” The barista asks.

Jisung opens his mouth to speak but you hold an arm in front of him and turn to the barista, “One pesto, one lasagna, the chicken wings for sharing, two glasses of water, one cheesecake, and one strawberry cake, please.”

“Y/N, this is a cafe, where their specialty is coffee.” Jisung teases dryly as the barista takes note of your order, a last attempt at getting himself another cup of Americano.

So without turning to him, you tell the barista, “Also, can you add an additional Americano—?”

“Finally—” “Two shots for me, not him.”

The barista only laughs at your banter. “Name please?”

“Y/N.”

While you’re conversing with the barista, Jisung shoots daggers to the side of your face, dramatically declaring, “I’m stealing your Americano.”

But you only drop your arm in front of him as the barista says, “That would be 12,000 won.”

“Oh, he’s paying.”

Either way, Jisung reluctantly pays with the sole motivation to get a sip from your iced Americano.

“Seriously, though, cut the Americano for a little while, maybe until finals.” You point out as you settle on a nearby table that has just been cleaned by staff. “Do you even know what a water dispenser looks like at this point?”

“I drink water.” He pouts, opting to sit down next to you to show that he really has all intents to steal your Americano. “It just doesn’t give me ideas for my projects.”

“You have one practical project due before the break. What about the other times you do work?”

“I do them quickly.”

You sigh in defeat. “Ah, seriously?”

When the barista calls for your name at the counter, Jisung holds you down by the shoulder and makes a run for the counter, taking a long sip of your Americano until you caught up to him.

“Success!” He exclaims, proud of himself, as he takes one of the two trays.

“Satisfied with your Americano?” You take the other tray in defeat, walking back to your table with him.

“Hm, I don’t knoooow.” He teases in sing-song, sitting next to you again instead of across from you as he would usually do. “You might finish everything before even finishing your pasta.”

“I’m not too much in a coffee mood, actually.” You scrunch up your nose. The two of you then proceed on taking your respective orders off the tray, setting the trays aside.

“But after the break, you will be.” He states matter-of-factly. “How many projects do you have due after the break?”

“I can only remember six because I really don’t want to think about them right now.” You steal a small slice of cheesecake from him as an unwritten exchange for his unlimited share of your iced Americano. “As Seungmin and Changbin once said, ‘have fun now, suffer later.’“

“Oh, I’m fun?”

You turn to your side to look at him, finding him looking back at you with a triumphant smile. “You’re not letting me live this down, won’t you?”

“No, it’s getting added to my list of Y/N compliments!”

You roll your eyes, taking another slice of cheesecake. He reiterates with his now third sip of Americano—you’re not even sure anymore because you’re pretty sure he’s already drank half of it.

“I said drink your water, jeez.” You slide him his glass of water, barely a quarter empty. You take the Americano from him, taking your own long sip of the drink.

“I will, I will! Just one last si—” “Han Jisung, let me drink my damn coffee!” “Okay, fine, let’s exchange!”

You leave the cafe when it’s nearing 9 PM. Somehow, when you’re with Jisung and food, you barely check the time, much less your phone, since your table gets messy from stealing each other’s dessert plates and, for tonight, Jisung drinking most of your Americano. You and Jisung also had a lot to say about your respective classes in a full-on rant session since there’s only 2 weeks left until everyone is on semester break.

“There’s not much traffic at this time, isn’t there?” Jisung asks you as he walks you back to the bus stop. He holds a paperbag containing your take-out cakes for your roommates. “You might fall asleep and miss your stop again.”

“Says the guy who sleeps on people during calls.” You tease with an elbow to his side. He tries to slap you back on your arm but you walk ahead enough to be out of his reach, sticking your tongue out at him. “There isn’t much traffic now, though, it’s only Thursday.”

“Y/N.” He laughs while calling your name, covering his mouth. “It’s Friday.”

Your eyes, of course, widen in surprise. “It is?” He only nods at this, finding amusement in the way your expression quickly turns into that of horror. “Ah, shit, I told my roommates we hang out tomorrow!”

“Why, do you have to do the dishes or something?”

But checking your phone, you only find a ‘wya’ message from Ryujin. Almost as quickly as you started panicking, you calm down again. “Oh, it’s fine.” You conclude, shoving your phone back in your coat pocket. “It’s just that they sometimes think I died at the library or something and end up making a big scene about it. Last time, our batch FB group got spammed.”

“Wow, then you judge me for always being cooped up in the dorms?”

“That’s different—I actually go out and walk. I’m surprised you can even run to the bus stop a while ago.”

Jisung threatens to swing your take-out bag at you. You only take it lightheartedly by holding your hands up in front of him, laughing.

But all jokes and banter aside, you give him a hug before boarding the bus. “Text me when you get home.” He recites his constant line when it’s you leaving. “Or when you miss your bus.”

“Shut up.” You mumble on his shoulder, punching his back hard before pulling away. “I hope you trip on your way back.”

“‘Night, Y/N.” “See you when I see you, nerd.”

two - a park

After a month of living off of ramen and iced Americano, barely seeing the sun, and hearing the same chords and melodies on repeat, Jisung passes the song he’s been working a week later. Besides this, he only has three papers left to tweak before he can fully enjoy the semester break without any sort of guilt.

To celebrate, it’s you inviting him this time to ride bicycles so he can move around but also relax. You picked the park at Ichon that’s on your side of the Han river but still far away from university so you don’t think of schoolwork the entire time.

On this particular hangout, you took the same bus but at different times. He boarded the bus first before you, arriving some 30 minutes after you’ve arrived at your nearest stop. Since it’s a Saturday morning, the traffic’s not too heavy.

“You look nice.” Jisung nudges you with one shoulder as you take a seat on the spot he saved you. The bus is not full since the rush hour had just gone.

“It’s just a t-shirt and shorts.” You reply flatly, hiding the fact that you actually thought a lot about your outfit last night. You even wore your good sneakers and denim jacket today.

“Yes, but it’s your other other favorite graphic shirt.” He points out. “The one for when we’re outdoors.”

Oh, so he noticed.

“Yes because someone has to look cute.” But you actually think Jisung looks nice even when he wears the same Supreme shirt like today—you’re just too in deep with the teasing to compliment him.

“I compliment the rainbow shirt you always wear when we sightsee but you diss my Supreme shirt.” He rolls his eyes. “Ah, people these days.”

“Because you’re always in and out of university in that.” To emphasis, you tease him further by scooting away. “Do you even wash that?”

“Of course I do.” He confidently and lightheartedly answers, putting an arm on your shoulder and pulling you back. “While it’s in the laundry, I wear my other Supreme shirt, or my other other Supreme shirt—“

“Yikes.” You tsk at him, crossing your arms. “This is what staying inside all day does to you.”

“That’s why you’re here, my Y/N, to take me out.”

“I was reduced to the role of babysitter.”

“I was going for hangout or date but you called yourself babysitter.”

Arriving at Ichon park, you make a quick snack stop at the nearest convenience store first. Since it’s your turn to pay, Jisung makes sure to buy all of his favorites (sans an iced Americano this time as your only condition to pay for him). You fill an entire basket with snacks and drinks both for when you ride a bicycle and for when you settle down for a picnic later at lunch.

“By the way, did you bring the mat?” You ask Jisung as you walk to the renting station, remembering that he and Hyunjin have the picnic mat you and your bigger circle of friends use for outings like this.

“Of course I did, what do you take me for?” He unzips his backpack to show you the blue gingham pattern Seungmin picked out two years ago. Aesthetic, he said. “I’m not the one who mistakes dates.”

“And I’m not the one who had to ask what the picnic mat looks like the other night despite having it for 4 months now.” After a few more steps, you arrive at the renting station. “I was just making sure.”

You then rent two bicycles, both with baskets for your belongings.

“Y/N, wear a hat.” Jisung reminds you while putting in his.

You frown. You did bring a cap but you also put a lot of effort on your hair today. “It’s going to ruin my hair.”

“The sun’s going to burn your hair if you don’t.” He takes your cap from your hands and gently places it on top of your hair before you can even reiterate, a small smile gracing his face at your speechless expression. “There.”

The fuck is he on? Still, your heart beats erratically at his sporadic gestures. Being Jisung’s best friend is a bit of a rollercoaster.

Especially lately.

Before you know it, Jisung’s already on his bicycle, urging you to do the same. Half-dazed, the two of you leisurely circle the entire stretch of the park, pointing at random landmarks across the river and eating your snacks.

Since this hangout’s also meant as a celebratory one, you let Jisung let loose and yell, “I’m done with my projects!” while extending his hands out as he cycles. You think to yourself that you have the rest of the year having a heart attack over that.

The park is full of families, friends, and couples on a Sunday that you almost couldn’t find a spot to lay your picnic mat on when the two of you got too tired of cycling around. You couldn’t consider sitting on a park bench since Jisung was getting sleepy as well, a result of not having a proper sleep schedule and a half in the past weeks.

So, after almost twenty minutes, you managed to secure a place from a couple who was just leaving for the nearby Namsan tower.

“Thank you so much again!” You thank the couple who even helps you set up the picnic mat while you let Jisung temporarily rest on the bare grass with his backpack as a pillow, sleep quickly catching onto him.

“No problem.” The woman says with a smile.

“Have fun on your own date.” The man adds, placing an arm on his date’s shoulders.

“Oh we’re not—“ But before you could even finish, the couple’s already walked away. You sigh, squatting down to Jisung’s eye level this time. “Jisung wake up, mat’s ready.”

He scrunches his nose with a groan, about to roll over to the opposite direction until you stopped him and rolled him towards the mat. His head lands soundlessly on the ground, forcing him to open his eyes.

“Damn, I thought I was going to land on your lap.” He rubs the area on his head that hit the grass.

You sit down next to him, taking out the sandwiches you bought from the convenience store. “Who do you think rolled you over, dumbass? For a genius, your sense of direction is quite questionable.”

“But can I?” He looks up at you now, poking your bare thigh. “Do you need like a blanket or something?”

You remind yourself that this is the same guy who threatened to smack you with a box of cake last week and dropkicked you once (but that’s another story). “Fine, go ahead.”

As if he woke up just a little with wide eyes and a genuinely happy expression on his face, Jisung scoots over while laying down (which makes you stifle a giggle because he looks like a worm doing it) until his head lays on your lap. You push a bottle of water and two bags of sandwiches next to his shoulders. “You have to eat later, though, okay?”

Looking down at him, you surprise yourself by finding him with his eyes still open. He busies himself with lazily getting his phone and earphones from his bag, putting on an earbud and offering you the other. “I saved my project for you to listen to.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to sleep?” Nevertheless, you take the earbud just as the music starts to play.

“Yeah, but I’m suddenly hyper-aware and awake.” He shrugs, taking the sandwich on his side. “You know, like when kids get put to bed from sleeping somewhere else.”

“So you do think you’re a kid?”

“Shush, this is the good part in the song.”

You chuckle, opting to not reply vocally to enjoy the song you’ve been hearing fragments off for the past month. The two of you then eat and listen in silence, that is until he asks you for comments at the end and the two of you discuss it for a while then it’s back to comfortable silence again but with different music as you scroll through your phone and Jisung tries to nap again.

Jisung falls asleep once he has a good look at you without your phone in the way.

At the end of the day, around 4 PM so you don’t get stuck in rush hour traffic, you take the same bus again but this time, it’s you leaving first.

The only problem is that despite a year and a half of frequenting your side of the Han river, Jisung still can’t seem to memorize bus stops well, forcing you to stay awake the entire ride.

“Y/N—“ “No, Jisung, we’re still three stops away.”

You don’t even have to look up from your phone to know that Jisung’s still looking out of the window as he’s had for the past 20 minutes, trying to gues your stop. At hearing your answer, he decides to stop, turning his head to the other direction as you text your groupchat.

“What’s up?” He rests his head on your shoulder casually to get a better view of the messages you’re skimming through, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try shrugging him off his shoulder but he shows no initiative to move. “Everyone’s starting to talk about the annual Halloween party. You’d know if you check the chat often.”

Away from your view, Jisung frowns. “I get ideas of what you’re talking about from how Hyunjin reacts to them, especially to the memes, thank you very much.”

“Well, at least you’re a bit better than Changbin when it comes to being online.” You say, more to yourself than to Jisung. “Anyway, you, Hyunjin, and Chan are in charge of the guest list. Chan just suggested that you squeeze it in your next radio show this week since the party’s the next night—maximum of 50 people!”

“Oh, yeah, we can do that.” He nods. “Any news on the venue?”

At this, you release a sigh of frustration. “Seungmin and Changbin booked a rooftop in Itaewon of all places.”

“Isn’t that cool? Why are you sighing?”

“Speak for yourself, Jisung. Remember last year?” You close your phone now but Jisung’s head still remains on your shoulder. “I don’t want to deal with a lot of drunk college kids again—especially not on a rooftop and not when I really deserve a drink.”

“Nah, I’m sure it won’t be as bad as last year.” He tries to say dismissively but the two of you know exactly know crazy it was last year, especially for Jisung.

“Which is why I told Minho that we buy the alcohol together on Wednesday—so no one does anything too stupid.” You shrug Jisung completely off of your shoulder now since you’re nearing your stop and he complies, caught off-guard with the way you said you and Minho are doing something together. “Okay, Sung, this is my stop.”

You stand up and Jisung almost does the same in his absentminded state. “So are you carpooling with Minho on Saturday?”

“Yeah, I need to do something for my club before going to the party but we’re sending the drinks early in case we’re late.” You say quickly. “Okay, I gotta go. See you this break?”

“Hm, see you.”

When the bus moves again, there is a sinking feeling in Jisung’s stomach until the view of you walking back to your university disappears.

three - a supermarket

You invited Lia to help you and Minho to buy liquor at the nearby supermarket after Minho’s classes, only to find out that Minho brought 3racha along.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your box-carrying skills but I don’t trust your liquor-handling skills.” Minho explains when he sees your surprised expression at seeing Chan wave at you and Lia from the front passenger seat. “That goes literally and figuratively.”

“I mean, I feel the same which is why Lia’s here but, really? You trust Jisung and Changbin with liquor?”

“Hyunjin’s out with someone again and Jeongin might get carded again.” Changbin shrugs from the open passenger seat window.

“Seungmin? Jeongin? Felix?”

“Do you think we’d actually let them touch alcohol until Saturday?” “Right.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine. We’re buying for around 50 people right?” Lia asks Minho as the two of you squeeze in the back seat of his car.

“Yeah, so that’s about 6 boxes since the venue’s also providing some drinks.”

“What about snacks?” “Covered by the venue too.”

“How many bottles can fit in 1 box?” You mumble to yourself but Jisung, sitting very closely next to you, hears.

“Around 10 to 15, probably.” He says, startling you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be finishing papers?”

“I already finished them waaaay back.” He smirks at you coolly. “While being a ‘cave man’ at the dorms like you said. You’re supposed to be proud I’m voluntarily going out today.”

He’s too prideful to admit that he finished his remaining work in the 3-day window you didn’t see each other so he can tag along today.

At the supermarket, you split up in teams, each with two baskets to fill. Changbin and Lia head off to the liquor store outside the main supermarket while Minho and Chan go to the liquor aisle inside the supermarket. You and Jisung, on the other hand, stick together, browsing the other aisles instead after being in the same liquor aisle but at different sections with Minho and Chan. No reason, you both just felt like it.

“Do you think we have enough budget to sneak in a bag of candies?” You think out loud, holding a bag of mint candies from the shelf. “I’m not sure if I want this one but Minho likes it.”

“Minho probably wouldn’t notice—maybe he’ll even think he put that in himself.” Jisung says, standing really close to you and examining the candies himself. Your two baskets of alcohol bottles are half-forgotten to the side. “Why do you even want to buy candies for him? If you want it, though I can buy it for you.”

You give him a skeptical look, only then noticing how easily your shoulders brush against each other. “Why are you standing really close?” You voice your observation out loud, making him turn his head to you with a pout. “I mean sure go ahead but you’re literally blocking the light.”

“I can’t?” To emphasis, he leans some of his body weight to you, just enough to make you hold onto him by his arm at the feeling that you’ll tip over if you don’t. Succeeding, he smirk triumphantly and takes your hand off of his arm so that he can put in on your shoulder. “Y/N, I missed youuu.”

“We saw each other 3 days ago.” You huff, more to yourself than to him because he really is making you nervous. “You’re so clingy today, that’s my job!”

“Sus, I can’t miss you after 3 days now? When it’s already my break and you’re still attending some classes?” He pouts, holding his arms open. “Come here.”

“What? Why?” At this point, you’re just getting a serious whiplash from his sudden clinginess. That’s my job, how dare he?

When you don’t budge, eyes still narrowed at him, he moves forward himself, trapping you in a hug. “I want to hug you, idiot.”

“What if I don’t want to?” “I’m still hugging you.”

You simply give in this time, the two of you just standing there until Chan passed by to get Minho candies.

“Dudes, come on, we’re buying alcohol.” He reminds with an amused smile, snatching the bag of mint candies from your grasp. “Get moving, lovebirds.”

“We’re n—“ “We’ll be right there.”

You pretend on swinging a bag of gummy bears at him. When he asks you why, you only run back to the liquor aisle to meet Chan and Minho.

More bickering, some alcoholic jokes, and the woman at the check-out counter asking for your I.D.s later, the 6 of you rest and eat ice cream at a parlour near the check-out before leaving, your boxes of alcohol carefully placed together at the end of your table.

“So how many people are actually going?” Lia asks Chan over her chocolate ice cream.

“Around thirty-people already responded to the invite.” Chan answers. You wince every time he bites his ice cream. Every person to themselves but biting ice cream is just a no for you. “When the Friday show airs, hopefully more people go.”

“We had 100 people last year, right?”

“That’s because these geniuses thought they can handle a hundred drunks at a house party.” You recall the chaotically eventful party last year. “We’re cutting in half since we’re at a rooftop party and I don’t want to see people jumping off the 4th floor.”

“Also since not a lot of people dress up.” Jisung frowns. The party has always been a costume party when it started 3 years ago but somehow, a lot of the guests you’re not particularly close with always show up in the bare minimum.

“Ooh, what are you guys dressing up as this year?” Minho asks, suddenly excited at the topic of costumes.

“Might just go as a vampire again this year since I won’t have much time preparing this Saturday.” You frown.

“Hey, I wanted to go as a vampire!” Chan complains.

“You already went as a vampire last year! Can we not match again?”

“What about you Minho?” Lia asks, disinterested in your bicker with Chan.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He shrugs. “Ask Jisung.”

Lia turns to Jisung who enthusiastically answers, “It’s a surprise!”

“It’s probably the horse head again.” You roll your eyes, knowing his enthusiasm very well. “But we’re just going to pretend that it’s a surprise on Saturday.”

“You better do.” Jisung pouts.

“Have you even washed that horse mask since last year?” Minho narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

You yourself didn’t even expect that he’d keep it for this year especially after what happened.

Yikes.

“Minho, you know I do! I take it out sometimes to scare Hyunjin’s dates!”

You head to the events place in Itaewon after. From the photos in your groupchat, it’s an average-sized building in relation to the others in this particular district, holding a convenience store on the first floor, a BBQ place on the 2nd floor, and miscellaneous offices on the 3rd—one of which rents the rooftop for events.

“So why did we have to buy drinks at the supermarket again?” Changbin asks, still trying to catch his breath from carrying so many boxes of alcohol.

“Because supermarket alcohol is slightly better than convenience store ones.” You answer matter-of-factly. “It’s semester break and Halloween. Indulge a little, Binnie.”

“Y/N has plans to get wasted.” Jisung spoils to everyone, making you call out his name from the front seat. You asked to exchanged seats with Chan after loading the boxes at the back of the car so you can have a run through of the food and drinks. Throughout the whole ride, he’s been hell-bent on exposing you.

“Then it’s counterproductive to buy those hard drinks.”

“Who says I’m sharing them?” You chuckle. You didn’t expect that anyone but Jisung would notice that you bought smaller drinks for yourself.

Then the car is quiet for a while sans the music playing from Jisung’s phone which you immediately recognized as one of the playlists 3racha played on a broadcast before.

When you get stuck in temporary traffic on the last intersection before the venue, you then turn to Minho. “Minho, aren’t you afraid of heights? Is 4 floors okay?”

Glancing at Minho for a response, he nods while still looking at the road. “The place’s really nice in person. I went with Seungmin yesterday.”

“If you say it’s nice then I’d probably feel guilty of letting people trash the place this weekend.” Because it’s true, if Lee Minho calls something nice or pretty, it’s really really nice or pretty.

“It’s really spacious so you don’t have to stare at the ground below all the time, lots of picnic chairs and tables with the big-ass umbrellas, fairy lights, and a sound system when people want to karaoke or need mics.”

“Ah, yes, very much of Seungmin’s aesthetic.”

“I’d like to be acknowledged too, thank you.” Changbin says from your rear view mirror view.

“Thank you Changbin.” You tease him with a laugh. “What did you like about the place?”

And before Changbin could even answer seriously, the rest of the car answers in chorus, “There are lots of glitter and foil decorations.” before breaking into laughter.

“There are beach props too! There’s fake grass and everything so it looks cheerful!” Changbin defends but to no avail because you only end up laughing. “Seungmin didn’t like it but I insisted that we borrow it for the party.”

You arrive at the building afterward, handing the alcohol to the staff on their 3rd floor office and finalizing the food you’re going to have on the party.

“We’ll see you on Saturday night, then?” The owner of the building confirms once you’ve covered all the inquiries you have.

Chan nods. “Me and the guy who booked the place, Seungmin, will be here first on Saturday night around 6 PM.”

“What are you doing at 6 PM that you have to be late on Saturday?” Jisung whispers next to you, diverting your attention from looking at the view next to you to him as he looks at you expectantly.

“Cramming a poster while waiting for a club meeting.” You frown. “Not everyone had their school day on Friday.”

“Can’t you skip?”

“Hm? Why?” You nudge his shoulder, as if trying to take out the pouty expression he wears on his face. “I told you I’m carpooling with Minho on that day so it’s fine.”

“But stiiill. I won’t save your alcohol.”

“No need, I already asked Seungmin to do it...and even asked Felix to watch you before I get here.”

“What did you bribe those two with?”

“Tickets to Lotte world.”

Jisung narrows his eyes at you but he’s thoroughly impressed. “You’re too smart.”

“I have to outsmart you somehow when it comes to doing something stupid.” You shrug with a chuckle. “Plus, traffic’s really heavy on Saturday since everyone’s going home that day.”

“You really should just ditch club.” He shrugs. “It’s the last day anyway.”

“I can’t, dumbass, that’s part of my grade. Really, it’s fine, at least I’m with Minho on that day so we can be late together.”

Before Jisung could argue further, however, Lia approaches the two of you. “Ready to go, guys?”

four - a rooftop party

Sometimes, you hate it when Jisung is right. Turns out, the meeting you had for your club was relatively pointless and could’ve just been discussed over e-mail or your club groupchat. Still, it ended at around 9:15 PM because most of your club mates arrived later than the 7:35 PM you agreed on and the stubborn president didn’t want to start the meeting until everyone was there.

Still, you passed your posters (which you definitely crammed at the school library prior) and made a lot of suggestions during the meeting which felt rewarding enough to make up for the frustrations you can’t vocally tell your seniors over causing a lot of inconveniences to your meeting. Just think that’s going to be you in a few years, Y/N, so try to understand, you think to yourself as you return to an empty dorm. Ryujin already informed you over text that she and Lia already left with Yeji to pick up Chaeryeong from her university.

“Now, for costume.” You mumble under your breath, heading straight to your room.

After much thought on which black clothes to wear, you got dressed quickly to attend to your make-up faster. Since you’re a vampire again like last year, you have to put in more effort on your hair and make-up—you’re definitely not winning best costume but at least you look decent (and definitely not wearing the same clothes from last year) for the endless pictures Hyunjin’s going to take of everyone later.

When you’re already halfway to your make-up, Minho decides on spamming you, your phone lighting up and displaying 9:58 PM. Shit.

minho: here!!!

minho: traffic still heavy

minho: chan asked for reinforcements btw

minho: so were stopping at d mart

minho: pls don’t tell me ur putting make-up blood on ur face [sent 10:03 PM]

You groan, typing a quick “i am” reply to his last message before quickly finishing your make-up and heading out.

y/n: ok otw [sent 10:06 PM]

You quickly spot Minho’s car right outside of your dorm, his tinted windows rolling down as you approach. Opening the car, your eyes widen in brief surprise before crinkling into a laugh as you get in and close the door. “W-what the...what the fuck, Minho?”

“Don’t.” He holds a threatening finger up in front of your face, putting his hand back on the steering wheel as you drive away from your dorm. But even he stifles from his own laughter. “The kids asked that we buy 10 more bottles of the whiskey Chan picked out since Hyunjin made cocktails with it and a lot of people want more.”

“W—wh...sorry, it’s just that I can’t concentrate when you’re looking like this.” You end up laughing for the rest of your first 2 minutes inside the car and almost forgetting what you were going to ask.

This year, Minho is a Korean traditional woman for Halloween.

“So,” You start when you’ve recovered, holding a hand to your chest to steady your breathing. “So, are you going out to the mart or do I have to sacrifice myself?”

“You can air drop the pic of the whiskey brand on your phone.” He answers.

You sigh, putting on a jacket you find on the back seat to cover your exposed torso for when you go out to the supermarket.

At the supermarket, people only gave you brief stares because of the fake blood dripping from your chin to your collarbones before their attentions turned to another person (probably from another Halloween party) dressed as a literal YouTube video picking up snacks. Though you’re relieved, you made your exit quick after your purchase, pushing the cart as fast as you can to the nearby parking spot Minho’s car occupied, because your phone suddenly started ringing from consecutive messages from Jisung, of all people.

jisung: y/n where r uuuu

jisung: party started at 6! 6!

jisung: seungmin playing truth or drink

jisung: changbin singing at karaoke

jisung: also i drank ur mules

jisung: n ur peach sojus

jisung: but i shared w felix! [sent 10:25 PM]

You sigh, particularly at reading the last message after successfully loading your box of whiskey at the back of the car. You were too hopeful trusting even Seungmin and Felix.

y/n: otw w minho [sent 10:25 PM]

“Jisung’s really drunk again.” You inform Minho once you’re on the road again. “I can’t even trust Seungmin or Felix now.”

“Well, you’ll have to keep texting him because the traffic going to Itaewon doesn’t seem to be moving.” Minho sighs. “You know he’ll sleep dehydrated if he’s that bored by himself to text you.”

You groan. “No shortcuts?”

“Even the shortcuts are flooded. I swear, everyone’s travelling home or partying tonight.”

You lean back on your seat, taking a few deep breaths. If there’s anyone that shouldn’t be left alone at a party, it’s one Han Jisung.

At the party, Jisung sits at the bar, accompanying Hyunjin as he re-discovers his drunken talent of mixing cocktails. He scrolls through his phone absentmindedly with the occasional sips of the peach soju he’s been struggling to finish for 20 minutes now, having no motivation to join Changbin and Felix at the karaoke or Chan, Jeongin, and Seungmin playing more drinking games with most of the guests.

“Jisung, you’re sulking.” Hyunjin points out as he gives another guest his new cocktail recipe.

“No, I’m not.” Jisung frowns and hiccups through his big horse mask even when the older boy can’t actually see.

“You’ve been in there for the past 20 minutes.” Hyunjin knocks on Jisung’s horse mask for emphasis. He’s no better, actually, dressing up as a big giraffe head since Felix decided to be the Joker this year. “Literally the last time I saw your face, you were texting Y/N.”

“Y/NNNN! Why aren’t Y/N and Minho here yet? I want to see Y/NNNNN!”

“Well, it’s traffic out.” At the very end of the bar, Hyunjin can see the heavy traffic below. “Everyone��s going home or eating out tonight.”

“But I want Y/NNN!” Jisung is fumbling around now, narrowly missing his bottle of peach soju since the horse mask doesn’t have a good view from the weird eyes. “Where is Y/N?”

Though his friend is incredibly drunk now, the tipsy Hyunjin still tries to keep a decent conversation so Jisung doesn’t accidentally fall asleep on his mask again. “You saw each other a lot the past weeks, though? Unlike when it’s a regular school week and you barely reply to them on chat.”

“But that’s because I’m not as busy then as I was this semester.” Jisung manages to slur after a while before momentarily taking his horse mask off just enough for him to take a long sip of his peach soju with a metal straw he found somewhere in his backpack a while ago. “I miss Y/N when I’m busy.”

“What about when you’re not busy?” “I also miss them when I’m busy.”

Hyunjin sighs. “Just say you have a crush on them and go.”

And he’s not sure if Jisung actually heard him but the boy replies with a muffled sigh. “Having a crush from people in different universities is hard!”

You open your phone to check the time, the twelfth time you’ve done so in the past hour since you’ve been stuck in the now moving traffic. Eleven-twenty PM on the dot, the party could either be still in full swing with everyone drunk off their asses or dying down with everyone drunk off their asses—either way, most of the liquor are probably gone now (even the one you asked Seungmin to guard for you) and the reinforcement’s probably not a good idea already. Next to you, Minho sighs, “Not that it’s annoying but you keep checking your phone and frowning every time you do. It’s scary, especially since you look more like a depressed vampire than a slutty one.”

“Thanks, Minho.” You roll your yes, closing your phone and putting it down on your lap.

“You’re really that excited much to see your boyfriend?”

You glare daggers through his side profile. “He’s not my boyfriend and I’m more worried than excited because he’s really bad at drinking. Remember last year—”

“It wasn’t that b—”

“Minho, he was crying because he thought his mask was stuck on his head.”

“But—” “He also tried drinking soju while crying and wearing his mask.”

Knowing he’s on the losing side of the argument, Minho waves his hand dismissively, eyes still on the road. The traffic’s moving steady now. “Anyway, there’s 50 people there someone has to be sober-ish somehow.”

“Uh huh, sure, someone is.” You reply dryly. Though this party has a larger attendance list than your friend group’s usual hangouts since it’s your annual Halloween party, you can’t help but remain distrustful. Your friends aka the worst drunks ever are hosting, for God’s sake.

“Why don’t you text someone so you’d feel less nervous?” Minho suggests after a while.

And this time, you actually listen to him and open your phone again, opting to text Chan.

y/n: y’all still alive?

y/n: we’re about to turn right to the venue [sent 11:28 PM]

chan: shit’s lit!!!!!!

“Yup, even Chan’s drunk.” You conclude, closing your phone as Minho pulls up to the building. Minho sighs for probably the nth time tonight, exiting the car when you do. “Come on, ahjumma, we’re checking if our friends are still alive.”

Arriving at the party by the service elevator the staff kindly showed you, you almost kicked the box of whiskey bottles you placed on the ground in surprise once the doors opened and Chan greeted you dressed as a clown. “Finally, you’ve arrived!” He exclaims through his semi-faded white make-up and red nose, completely ignoring the way you just had the shock of your life. “Here, let me help you with the whiskey.”

You recover quickly, helping Minho and Chan lift the box to the nearby bar where Hyunjin is still busy mixing drinks. “Chan, why are you dressed as a clown?”

“Twitter poll.” He answers nonchalantly. “You should see Jeongin, he’s a life-size bread.”

Carefully setting the box on the ground for Hyunjin (who is more than grateful that the whiskey finally arrived), your expression returns to that of concern. “So, where’s Jisung?”

“Oh, he said he was going to take pictures by the railings with the good view.” Hyunjin shrugs. Panic sets on your face. “Don’t worry! There’s like a lot of people there right now! And I gave him water a while ago!”

You swip a bottle of peach soju and a bottle of water you saw hidden expertly under the counter from your view on the ground, sighing. “I swear to God, you guys are the worst hosts ever.”

And so you set out to find Jisung amidst the most random crowd of costumes ever. You spot Changbin dressed as Kim Shin and a Joker Felix still competing for higher scores on the karaoke and passed by baguette Jeongin and sunflower Seungmin who are now hosting a very drunken Whisper Challenge with your seniors, Younghyun who wears a big report card on his neck, Jae who’s dressed in Chicken Little’s clothes, Snow White Sana, and a pirate Jeongyeon.

If it’s any consolation, at least people dressed up better this year compared to last year.

“Ryujin, have you seen Jisung?” You near the viewing area on the other side of the rooftop where the light gets progressively fewer.

“He’s over there.” Your roommate points to an empty area with only a few tables and outdoor lights.

“Where?”

“Oh, he’s laying down somewhere. He’s still wearing the horse mask if that helps.”

“Thank you!” You part ways as you open your phone, turning on the flashlight to find Jisung.

From your area of the rooftop, the EDM music Chan mixed for this party already sounds faint and the traffic below sounds louder. You point your flashlight on the ground but also look ahead for any shadow of a horse mask.

“Han Jisung.” You call for him in a loud whisper, in case he fell asleep since he’s sound-sensitive when drunk. “Yah, I swear to God, we’re not hosting another party again if you’re dead somewhere.”

You repeat this a few times, changing baseless threats in hopes that it alerts him, until you find him raising a hand up in the air. “Here.” He responds tiredly to you, his voice not muffled by a mask this time as he’s long set it down next to him. He spots you immediately, illuminated by the garden lights. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks?” You approach carefully, pointing your flashlight away from his face and kneeling beside him. “Why are you laying down on the ground?”

You contemplate on laying down next to him but then you remember that you left your jacket in Minho’s car at the thought that the denim doesn’t go with your all-black ensemble. The bare floor’s already cold on your bare legs, how much more on your exposed back? “Anyway, drink this water later.”

But Jisung seems to ignore you, pushing you gently away by your arm. “I’m looking at the stars, Y/N, move over.” He groans. “Turn the light off too.”

You scoff. “You can’t see the stars—” But as you look up at the purple night sky, you see countless of twinkling stars. Caught off guard, you turn your light off. “—here. Oh.”

“Do you want to lay down?” When you turn to look back down at Jisung, he’s already sitting up slowly. Moving away a little so that you’re not in his way, he then takes his jacket off and places it on the ground. “You can use my jacket. It’s fine.”

You hand him your water bottle and place your peach soju next to his horse mask. “Sure...” Reluctantly, you lay down on Jisung’s jacket.

Jisung chugs down half of the water before laying down again, next to you this time.

“Aren’t you cold?” You ask, sparing a glance in his direction as you do so. Jisung only shakes his head.

“I thought you’d never come.” He pouts, still looking at the stars. He’s slowly sobering up now, making it harder to look at you in the eye.

“Traffic.” You heave a long sigh. “Hyunjin also made Minho and I buy extra drinks.”

It’s silent for a moment, you glance at Jisung for the second time to check if he’s fallen asleep again but you see a very concentrated expression on his face as he looks at the stars. “Are you still drunk?” You shake his arm, immediately getting his attention.

“Do you like Minho?” He suddenly blurts out, catching you off-guard. What makes matters worse is that he didn’t even spare you a glance while.

“What?!” You exclaim. At this point, you just regret not drinking your peach soju before joining him.

“Do you like him? Like like-like as in...hold on, the word like’s getting too redundant here...” In the darkness, Jisung turns beet red the more he looks away from you, not even realizing that you’re equally flushed from trying to hold in your laughter.

Where is this going? You can only think to yourself as he was rambling.

“Jisung, I only like Minho when he offers carpool and free drinks when we hang out.” You sit up this time, extending your hand out past him to your soju bottle. You’re definitely drinking to this unusual conversation. “Why did you suddenly think I like him?"

You don’t remember doing anything with Minho that would make Jisung think this way.

Leaning even more towards Jisung’s direction, you see a faint glimpse of his embarrassed expression—his hand covering his eyes as he curses under his breath. You drink a little bit more of your peach soju before nudging him with the bottom of the bottle. “What made you say that?”

“No.” He replies as calmly as he can, hand still covering his face. At that moment, he wishes he could put the horse mask back on quickly so he can run away while hiding his face.

You try prying his hand away but to no avail. He looks at you on his own accord a moment later but even then he doesn’t hold eye contact for long.

“It’s silly, just the soju.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Can you lay down again so I don’t have you see your face? Not that the make-up is bad, it’s just really embarrassing when you’re looking down on me like this.”

You chuckle, amused, but comply eventually when you’ve had enough of your soju. Instead of looking up at the stars, however, you turn your body to the side so you’re facing Jisung this time.

“Yah—”

“You said lay down again, I’m laying down.” You tease in between laughs. “Are you seriously not looking at me in the eye?”

“No!” He whispers loudly in a dramatic fashion, taking his horse mask and balancing it on his face to hide from you.

You shrug, flicking his horse mask away easily. “Why are you so embarrassed? Best friends talk about this all the time, it’s normal.” You shrug as you say this next, trying to act nonchalant about it as possible. Internally, you’re still processing where this conversation could go. “I’m just wondering how you came to that conclusion? It sounds weird and gross: Minho and I, I mean.”

Jisung only looks at you quietly for the next 2 minutes, clearly contemplating. “It’s just...” He starts and you hold your breath, realizing that your faces are really close when he turns his head to your side. “Seriously, it’s silly!”

You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can seem. “I want to know, it’s n—”

“Ilikeyou.”

“Hm?” You feel lightheaded, and you definitely feel like you need to pee. Soju works fast that way.

“I like you...” He says, slower and trailing off this time. He thinks you didn’t notice but you caught the way he glanced briefly down at your lips before going back up to your eyes. “Like really really like you; but we’re always running on different schedules since we entered college and we’ve only ever hung out when my deadlines aren’t heavy enough to make you feel guilty to come over until recently.”

“...Is that why you’ve been asking to hang out more this semester?” Jisung nods at the simple question. “You wanted to see me that much?”

“Well, don’t get too cocky now.” He chuckles nervously. Suddenly, he’s overthinking everything, trying to pick apart any hint from the tone of your voice. “Because this would be really really awkward and embarrassing if you keep acting like that then turn me down later.”

Your heart skips a few beat, you’re sure it’s Jisung now and not the soju kicking in. “Who said...who said anything about me turning you down?”

Jisung’s thoughts malfunction at this. Suddenly, he’s taking too slow to process anything again. You roll your eyes at this. “Do I have to say it?”

“...yes?”

You scrunch up your face in distaste but Jisung doesn’t laugh, making you sigh. “Fuck it, fine.” You take a deep breath, slowly following your words with, “I like you too, Jisung.”

You look at him expectantly and he returns your gaze with one of disbelief. “R-really?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?” You flick his forehead.

“Can I—”

He leans forward but you stop him with a hand in between the two of you. “You smell like alcohol.” You whine, pushing him away slightly.

“But we’re in the dark, under the stars, sorta drunk at a Halloween party; naturally, the next thing that follows is—”

“Ew, Jisung, gross!” You push him away completely but he only resists, managing to hug you with one arm.

“You can say that all you want but you already said that you like me too.” Slowly, he gains his confidence back which only just makes you squirm more.

“Yeah, but you said it first.” You give up from squirming in his grip, realizing that it’s warmer than letting your torso be exposed to the cold for another second. “If anything, I actually have the upper hand here.”

He shrugs. “So? I actually like saying it. I like you, I like you, I like you...” You open your mouth slightly to comment but he takes this as an opportunity to press a long kiss to your lips. “I like you. There.”

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