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soobmint · 3 years

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paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

1K notes · View notes

aca-4 · 3 years

Photo

I know Halloween is still a week away, shh

This entire thing was really just an excuse to find costumes I think the group would wear and draw them. Plus a little comic for fun. Additional explanations below:

Mettaton: Vampire

‘Cause they tend to be interpreted looking very stylishly and it’s not the first time he’s out for human blood XD

Undyne and Alphys: Shirayuki and Zen from Snow White with the Red Hair

Obviously a couple cosplay for our anime fans. Wasn’t sure wich couple at first, but then I remembered this show, how the protagonist has red hair and thought it was a perfect fit. Think that was also one of the very first (if not the first) animes I’ve ever watched, so that’s nice.

Papyrus: Royal Guardsman

Updated his costume we already see him wear. He looks just like a royal guard now! And I was only getting slightly frustrated with how the hell I should draw his helmet!

Sans: Skeleton

An obvious and simple choice as he explains himself. Turns out ribcages are hard to draw, though; even with reference pics. Which you don’t even see much of in the end result because of his jacket...

Frisk: Conveniently Shaped Lamp

Joining Sans in humor. Also something simpler and kinda last minute as they were the one working very hard on Flowey’s costume! Speaking of...

Flowey: The evil plant from Little Shop of Horrors

Pretty self-explanatory. Just don’t feed him!

Toriel: Angel

Figured she’d go with something harmless and keep it simple. She doesn’t want to scare kids away, after all!

Asgore: Santa Claus??

I know what you’re thinking and I admit this was more intended as a joke. I probably should have given him something classic like a zombie or a mummy costume, but I just thought it would be hilarious if he got his human holidays mixed up or forgot to buy a new costume. I really gotta work on how I draw him, though. Sorry, goat dad :(

----

UNDERTALE and its characters belong to Toby Fox

#undertale #undertale art #halloween costumes #undertale comic #monster found family #wait do people really not use this tag?

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candied-peach · 3 years

Text

ao3: “christmas baubles” rating: T warnings: platonic dlampr, some violent humor, food, christmas genre: fluff (tiny bit of angst) description: Virgil spends Christmas with everyone. It goes surprisingly well. (this is written for @potatopriestlord for @sanderssidesgiftxchange ! happy holidays ♡)

It's Christmas time.

It's Christmas time, and Virgil doesn't know how to feel. This year, Patton's invited Janus and Remus. "A new beginning," he claimed, and who is Virgil to argue? He wants a new beginning. He does, but he just-

Well, it's not quite the same. He's used to Christmas with Janus and Remus and he's slowly becoming used to Christmas with Logan, Roman, and Patton, but- Combining them?

His heart stutters at the thought.

Don't be such a dummy, he tells himself as he carries in one last box of Christmas finery for the tree. The lights have already been strewn, in white and gold. Multi-colored tinsel is densely packed in one box, ready to be flung over evergreen branches in a rainbow tapestry. All that's left, really, are the ornaments.

Virgil isn't sure he's ready for the ornaments.

They aren't regular ornaments, you see. They aren't shiny glass baubles or childish popsicle stick and Elmer's glue contraptions. They're memories.

And he's painfully aware of every memory destined to fit on the tree.

"You ready, Virge?" Roman asks, a candy cane sticking out of his mouth. Virgil nods, swallowing his nerves back. It will be fine, he reminds himself. Just because Jan and Remus are coming this time doesn't mean anything will go wrong.

Roman hands him an ornament. It's a delicate reenactment of a cabin, snow falling down the windows in little drifts. Virgil grasps it with shaking fingers, his mind already drawn into the bauble's memory.

It's his first Christmas with the other sides since childhood. He doesn't want to intrude, but Patton insists. They don't even know his name yet, think he's nothing but a bother, but Virgil goes anyway because Patton gave him that look and he can't resist it.

They've transformed the commons into what looks like the inside of a cozy log cabin. Patton beams when he sees Virgil's hesitant tread down the stairs.

"You made it!" Patton says cheerfully. Logan gives him a cordial nod. Roman ignores him altogether, too focused on putting the last finishing touches on the tree. There are heaps of red and blue ornaments in various shades, but no purple, yellow, or green. Not that Virgil expected any.

"Uh, yeah," he says, shrinking into his hoodie. He feels like an imposition. Desperately wishing he could go back up the stairs and take refuge in his room, Patton instead takes his sleeve and tows him further in, handing him a mug of hot chocolate. It warms his perpetually chilled fingers and he can't help but awkwardly smile in thanks at the moral side.

"Thanks," he mumbles, his cheeks flaming like the sunset.

"Sorry," Roman apologizes, his face tinted red. "I um, I wasn't very princely that year."

"It's fine, Princey," Virgil says with a shrug. "The feeling was mutual, remember?" The next ornament is an old one. A fragile one. One that Virgil thought had been lost.

"Patton found that one," Roman tells him. "I haven't checked it out myself."

"Oh," Virgil says, feeling dazed. His fingertips brush the childish blobs of paint that stain the ornament's surface.

"Come on!" Creativity says impatiently, hopping down the stairs two at a time.

"You're gonna fall," Caution warns, flapping an oversized sweater sleeve. "Be careful."

"I am careful," Creativity retorts, but Caution notices that he takes the remaining steps a little slower. "Come on, Curiosity's already awake!"

"What 'bout Lies?" Caution asks. Creativity shrugs.

"Not sure," he says. "We gotta get Heart up, too. He's such a sleepyhead. Doesn't he know it's Christmas!?"

"I think the whole mind palace knows," Caution says dryly. Then he steps into the living room and gasps. An enormous Christmas tree squats proudly in the corner, decorated with strings of multi-colored lights and loads and loads of tinsel. Not a single ornament adorns its fluffy branches, causing Caution to give Creativity a curious look.

"It's not done," Creativity admits. "I thought- I thought the ornaments could hold memories! Of all the Christmasses we ever have together! Or like...other times, maybe, I don't know. Doesn't that sound cool?" He enthuses.

"Y-yeah," Caution stammers. "That- that sounds neat, Creativity."

"Show us how!" Curiosity exclaims, storming out of the kitchen. "I'll make the best memory ornament the world has ever seen!" Caution bursts into giggles, covering his mouth with one sleeve.

"Virgil?" Roman asks, touching his shoulder and drawing him out of the memory. "You okay?"

"Fine," Virgil says. "I'm fine. I just. Yeah." He sets the ornament down, as gently as if he cradled a snowflake, and hurried to his box. Dust still gathers, thick and cloying, on a few of the ornaments, buried in the back. The ones with Janus and Remus. He swallows hard, stretching out a hand to pluck the nearest one free.

"Remus, I swear to all that is holy if you have decided to replace the tinsel with tentacles again-" Janus threatens. Remus laughs, dancing backward around the tree as Janus chases him. Each evergreen branch is heavily laden with a wet and floppy tentacle, making Virgil scrunch his nose when he walks in.

"Again?" He complains mildly. Janus looks up, his face brightening.

"Virgil!" He exclaims. "You- you made it."

"Uh, yeah," Virgil says, his face flushed. "Um. I didn't- I didn't know that you uh, did anything? For Christmas?"

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing compared to the others," Janus dismisses, with one light wave of a gloved hand. "But Remus and I try our best. And now you! What tradition would you like to bring to the table, my dear Anxiety?"

Virgil blinks.

"Uh, what?" He asks, completely nonplussed. Remus grins and bounces forward, flapping his hands to make the ruffles on his sleeves move.

"Janus came up with it!" He explains. "We each get a Christmas tradition, just for us. Janus's is singing Christmas carols- only the funny ones- and mine is decorating the tree on December first. What do you want yours to be? It can be anything!"

"Anything?" Virgil asks. Janus looks like he regrets all his life choices, but he nods anyway.

"Anything," he confirms.

"Could- could it be making Christmas cookies?" He asks, hugging himself and remembering Patton's baking with a pang. Janus nods in agreement, though his own mismatched eyes look shadowed.

"Of course," Janus says. "To the kitchen!"

"To the kitchen!" Remus echoes in a howl, galloping toward the kitchen and nearly tripping over a stray tentacle.

Virgil's throat aches when he returns to himself. Their cookies had burned that time, because Remus forgot to set the timer, and truthfully, Virgil still isn't sure if Remus managed to add anything inedible to them, but the experience had been-

Well, the experience had been magical.

"Virgil," Janus greets him carefully. He has a dusty cardboard box held tightly in gloved hands, and his face is carefully neutral. He glances at the cookie-shaped ornament still clasped in Virgil's hands and the faintest dusting of pink brushes his cheekbones.

"Janus," Virgil greets just as carefully. Tension dissipates as Remus thumps his way between the two, lugging his own box.

"Virgey!" Remus exclaims. "Ice to see you!"

"It's nice-" Virgil starts, before realizing Remus is holding an icicle towards him. He recoils, setting the cookie ornament back down into the box, just as Remus laughs and dramatically stabs the icicle against his own heart. Nothing happens. Janus rolls his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips, as he watches Remus's antics.

"Janus, Remus!" Patton greets warmly. His words are only a little stilted when he realizes Remus is still holding a melting icicle, dripping all over the floor. Remus waves cheerily with it.

"This is a murder weapon!" He says, cheerful. Patton blanches.

"That's- that's nice," Patton says, recovering admirably. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Likewise," Janus drawls. He looks hesitantly down into his box of ornaments. Despite himself, Virgil cranes his neck to have a peek himself. He doesn't even have to touch it to be drawn into the first ornament's memory.

"Virgil, what do you want for Christmas?"

"Huh?" Virgil asks inelegantly, spinning around to see Janus leaning against the door of his bedroom, studying his glove with practiced casualness. He shoves his headphones down, curling around his neck, as he advances toward Janus.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Janus repeats. His snake eye gleams in the dim light. "It's a simple question, storm cloud."

"No, it isn't," he retorts, flustered. "There's so many things that are out there in the world, how could I possibly choose just one-"

"Who says it has to be one?" Janus's question stops him in his tracks.

"Be- because," he splutters. One side of Janus's mouth tips up in a crooked smile.

"We're figments of Thomas's imagination, we can have whatever we want," Janus says. Virgil doesn't point out that's not true, not really, doesn't mumble anything about wishing they could all have Christmas together for once. Instead, he stares at the ground and mutters something about new headphones.

"Well, that's easily done," Janus says lightly. "I'll ensure you get the prettiest lump of coal in your stocking, Virge. Unless Remus gets to it first." Virgil laughs despite himself and Janus's eyes light up, even as he saunters out the door.

The bauble, shaped like a pair of over-the-ear headphones, reluctantly lets Virgil free. He glances up to see Janus's own eyes, misty with memories.

"You kept it," Virgil mumbles. "You kept all of them."

"Of course I did," Janus says softly.

"Look at mine!" Remus exclaims, jostling his way between the two of them and shoving an ornament in Virgil's direction. It's shaped like a very misshapen pie and his startled fingers close around it, preventing it from clattering to the floor.

"Remus!" Virgil chases him around the kitchen, laughing only partly from frustration. Remus circles the kitchen island, cackling, holding the mixing bowl aloft.

"What's the matter, Fright Night?" Remus gleefully taunts.

"The matter is that batteries don't belong in pie crust and you know it!" Virgil exclaims, huffing out a breath and stirring his bangs.

"Sure they do," Remus says smugly. "They fit in here, didn't they?"

"That doesn't mean anything!" Virgil says, rolling his eyes. "A lot of things could fit in th- I mean-" Remus's eyes light up with a wicked gleam.

"A lot of things, you say?" He purrs. Virgil puts his face in his hands.

"Janus, how could you leave me with him?" He mutters into his palms.

"Because you can handle it," Janus retorts, appearing out of nowhere. He has a string of Christmas lights tangled around one arm. "Remus, put the bowl down."

"Yes, sir!" Remus says, saluting (thankfully with the hand not holding the bowl). The mixing bowl clatters to the counter.

"And help me with these lights for a minute, would you?" Janus implores. The wink he sends Virgil's way lets him know that he'll take charge of Remus, at least for a few minutes. Enough time for Virgil to fish out the batteries, if nothing else, and see if they need to start over.

"I remember that," Virgil mumbles. His cheeks feel like they're on fire. Remus beams at him.

"Good," he says. "Merry Christmas, Panic at the Emo."

"Likewise," Virgil mutters.

"Remus!" Roman shouts, startling all three of them. "Stop bothering Virgil and help me with these lights for the window."

"Same old, same old," Remus says, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and adding a little shoulder shimmy. He shoves his box of ornaments in Virgil's arms and dashes to his brother's rescue.

"Thanks," Virgil says dryly, looking after Remus's departing back.

"I can take them," Janus offers. Virgil sighs and shakes his head.

"It's fine," he says. "I wouldn't want you to drop anything."

"As if I would," Janus says, putting one hand to his chest in mock offense. It makes Virgil snicker. Janus smiles, a genuine expression of mirth that makes Virgil's heart twinge.

"Shall we?" He asks, motioning toward the tree with a jerk of his head.

"Ah, good," Logan says, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "I was wondering when you would appear, Janus. The twins are already hopelessly tangled in Christmas lights."

"Who put the ones on the tree?" Janus asks, looking amused. Logan smiles, a trifle smug.

"Me," he says. "Would you like to help with the tinsel?"

"Me?" Janus asks, clearly surprised. Logan nods.

"Is there some reason you shouldn't?" He asks.

"No," Virgil speaks on Janus's behalf, carefully setting down Remus's box of ornaments. "I'm gonna go see if Patton needs help," he adds and hurries away as Logan encourages Janus to set down his ornaments and pick up the first strand of tinsel.

"You're doing well," Patton murmurs, as Virgil stumbles into the kitchen. Red colors his cheeks like a candy cane.

"I guess," Virgil says, leaning against the counter top. "You uh, you need any help?"

"I think I've got it for now," Patton says. "But if you'd like to decorate cookies in a bit..."

"Sounds good to me, pop star," Virgil says, relieved. Patton rummages in a box on the table for a second, holding out an ornament.

"Remember this one?" Patton asks softly. Virgil's fingertips brush the smooth edges and he's helplessly drawn in.

"Caution?"

"Go away!"

"No," Heart insists, tiptoeing in the room and looking around. The spider curtains make him wrap his arms around himself and shiver. "You're upset. I can feel it. What's wrong?"

"Christmas," Caution mumbles. He's curled up on his bed, arms around his knees. "Christmas is what's wrong."

"What?!" Heart squawks. "What do you mean, Caution?"

"Thomas has so much stuff to do," Caution says. "How can he do all of them? It's just- I just-" His breathing speeds up. Alarmed, Heart crawls onto the bed, coming to a stop right beside him.

"Breathe," Heart directs, exaggerating his own breath into a gusty whoosh of air and making Caution's lips struggle not to form a smile. "Like this, 'kay? Follow how I sound."

It takes a few minutes for Caution to match his breathing, but he does. Both cheeks flush red as Heart smiles at him.

"Better?" Heart asks gently. Caution nods, playing with one of his sleeves.

"Will Thomas be okay?" Caution asks in a tiny voice. Heart doesn't even have to think about it for his next words to spill out, ringing with the sincerity of truth.

"Absolutely he will!"

Caution smiles, his hair flopping into his eyes. Heart reaches over and brushes it back, giving Caution an encouraging look.

"Wanna help me bake?" Heart asks. "I think I can make a pretty mean cookie!"

"Sure," Caution says, and laughs. "Why not?"

Virgil comes out of the memory slowly, his face flushed.

"I forgot about that," he mumbles, carefully setting aside the cookie-shaped bauble. Patton smiles gently.

"I never did," he admits, just as they hear a crash from the living room.

Virgil runs to the rescue, Patton hot on his heels. His mouth falls open at the scene of wanton destruction. The tree is still up (which is a miracle) and as far as he can tell, no ornament has been broken. But the tinsel lies in haphazard clumps all over the floor, and the same can be said for several strings of Christmas lights. A ladder sprawls on the ground, still holding a loudly protesting Roman.

"You didn't hold it steady!"

"Sure I did," Remus argues. His brows are scrunched tight in worry. "You overbalanced!"

"Well, it isn't like I did that on purpose," Roman says. Remus huffs.

"I never said it was on purpose!" Remus points out. Roman's face acquires a particularly rosy hue.

"Oh," he says weakly. Virgil snorts with barely suppressed laughter at the twins' banter, and all eyes turn to him and Patton.

"Roman fell off the ladder," Janus explains.

"Ouch," Roman tacks on. Virgil snorts.

"That would be an ouch," he says. "You better be okay, Princey."

"I will be," Roman promises. His expression turns irascible. "At least, I will when this bloody ladder is off me-"

"Oh, right," Remus says, his own face reddening. He reaches down and snags the ladder, carefully setting it upright. "There you go, bro."

"Thank you," Roman huffs. Logan gives him a hand and he cautiously makes it to his feet, breaking out in an enormous smile. "All is well on the Creativity train!"

"Please be careful," Patton implores, clasping his hands beneath his chin.

"I'm always careful, padre!" Roman exclaims, nearly slipping on a bushel of tinsel. Logan groans, snatching it up from the carpet.

"Ornament time," Patton says. "And then after that, I need help decorating some Christmas cookies!"

Virgil makes a beeline for his box, pulling out the ornament in the very back. Janus and Remus watch him as he delicately plucks it free, blowing away the dust.

"This one," he shyly requests. The memory plays, pulling them all in.

"Janus?"

Janus looks up from his idle place on the couch, a frown tugging at his face.

"Storm cloud? I thought you were in bed."

"I can't sleep," Virgil admits. He fidgets in the doorway to the living room, his eyes entranced by the Christmas tree (thankfully tentacle-free....for now).

"Come here," Janus coaxes, patting the couch next to him. Virgil shuffles over, his instincts screaming at him to go back to his room. Thankfully, he doesn't listen. He plops down on the sofa, and Janus tugs him closer, draping an arm around his shoulders. It should feel too tight and confining, but instead, it just feels...

Right.

"I can't sleep either!" Remus shouts from the hallway. Janus fondly rolls his eyes.

"Then come on out, Remus," Janus says. "I have two sides and six arms, you're more than welcome."

"Good," Remus says, but it's a subdued Creativity who finally slips out of the darkness and into the flickering colors of the Christmas lights. His eyes are red-rimmed. Virgil thinks he must have had a bad dream or something. He hardly ever cries otherwise.

"Bad dreams?" Janus asks, echoing Virgil's thoughts. Remus hesitates, then nods, as he crawls onto the couch on Janus's other side.

"Hark, hear the bells, sweet silver bells..." Janus sings lowly, elongating each phrase until the Christmas carol becomes nothing more than a lullaby, lulling both Virgil and Remus to sleep.

Virgil carefully hooks the ornament on the tree, front and center. He steps back, surrounded by old family and new, and nods to himself.

He's home.

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sickybubbies · 3 years

Text

A/n: Y'all I realised there's really not enough pregnant Jungkook on here with Jikook ofc I'm a sucker for them lately. Anyway, sorry for the crappy ending, enjoy!

TW: Emeto, Mpreg

----------------------------

"You alright babe?" Jimin rasps, leaning up so he was perching on his elbow as he squints his eyes where he could make out a faint figure of Jungkook half climbing; hauling himself onto the bed under the early greys of the morning.

"Mhmm," Jungkook hums quietly for a response, grimacing at the acid like texture in his throat that he was left with after throwing up. It was raw and strained, and Jungkook didn't like it one bit. He huffs and slips a hand under his shirt to hold on to his pudgy stomach, for two reasons. It was pushing past the waistline of his sweats from how bloated he was, after expelling the contents of his stomach routinely which tires him out endlessly and he wants to rip his insides out.

But Jungkook decides to be forgiving, because he's a few weeks into carrying the beautiful baby that he and Jimin had always dreamed about having. The pair had spent days and nights, with Jimin's head on Jungkook's torso as they both squabbled about how they'd raise their child way back in the boyfriend phase. (“One baby with your short genes, one with my tall genes and my good looks, how's that sound?" "Yah!") Jungkook reminds himself that it was all gonna be worth it in the end, it's always worth it. He imagines just how bright Jimin's eyes were to get once their baby was here, if it wasn't bright enough when Jungkook told him the news of his pregnancy; he fears he'd metaphorically go blind from his joy.

"I've just been sick." He murmurs, leaning back onto the headboard. Jungkook slouches, the energy sucked out of his bones as he shuts his eyes to hopefully regroup himself.

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, more awake now that he was aware of his husband's strife and leans over to press a generous kiss to his forehead. He wasn't going to let the younger deal with it alone, though the ones he accidentally sleeps through he's always up and at his service when needed and to smother him in love for afterwards.

"I thought you were gonna. I could hear your tummy all night going squelch squelch" He mumbles playfully, hoping it would lighten the dreadful atmosphere. Jimin places a hand on Jungkook's stomach and begins to rub circles into it, hoping it would ease him some.

The latter's abs had begun to disappear and his stomach was slightly dome shaped from the swell he had, his skin was softer and squishier the closer he gets to the second trimester and Jimin couldn't keep his hands off of Jungkook. In his defense, his husband looked adorable pregnant, he adored the sight so much and loved the tiny being to bits already.

"Shut up Chim, listening to you is making me wanna vomit again" Jungkook groans, shifting on the mattress so he could get comfortable and pressing a fist to his lips as he feels his stomach fizzle up and an airy burp escape from his lips.

Jimin pouts, he begins carding through Jungkook's soft purple hair. "Still feel bad? Aren't you supposed to feel better after bringing everything up?" He questions, his heart clenching as he watches Jungkook's face begin to pale and paint a tinge of green.

Jungkook shrugs. "Dunno about that hyung, I don't feel better at all. I feel queasy" He admits, he'd learnt to vocalize to the older about how he felt; if he doesn't it's gonna end up with another one of Jimin's shirts in the wash, trust he's been there and learnt his lesson.

"My baby…" Jimin coos softly, propping up next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He keeps his fingers in Jungkook's hair, looking down at him and kissing the crown of his head as he slowly scratches his scalp. He holds the younger tighter when he stiffens and moans, his brows furrowing from the pain and havoc the nausea was causing in Jungkook's stomach from how he nuzzles his nose into Jimin's chest. "It's one of those days huh? Crackers and water, maybe some ginger ale if we feel less stubborn. How long does lil' bean plan to keep you sick for anyways?"

"That feels nice..." Jungkook mumbles out, relaxing a little. Jimin's soft yet aimless conversations helped keep him distracted, and so were his gentle touches they did a great job in lulling him to sleep.

Speaking of which, Jungkook is just about to drift into dreamland in the comfort of Jimin's arms when his stomach churns again. He feels a splash of bitter bile in the back of his throat, almost like the residue of sick that was still sitting at his throat from earlier. He almost sits upright, clenching his throat and covering his mouth as he belches. It catches Jimin's attention.

"Jungkookie, Jungkookie" Jimin says in a haste, cursing under his breath as he looks around for anything Jungkook to spew in without jostling his stomach too much. His eyes drawing back to the younger one in worry when he next hears a wet gag which meant he couldn't hold on any longer now that his hand was leaving his mouth.

Jimin looks around and finds the glass bowl he had on his side table which Jungkook had brought him months back, he sighs in relief. It was stashed with a bunch of sweets and random bits that he's quickly dumping out. He snags it up and under Jungkook's chin, straightening up with him and clicking his tongue when Jungkook whines and protests.

"It's okay, Jungkookie it's okay, do it here. In here babe, I'll clean it don't worry. It's just a bowl" He assures softly, lowering it slightly so it wasn't right in his face as he slowly massages the back of his neck.

Jungkook whimpers, feeling his stomach slosh and his muscles tense as he wraps an arm around his middle. He barely registers Jimin turning the lamp on before he's disgorging a stream of vomit into the bowl.

He pants and grunts, jolting with a hiccup. His breath gets caught in his throat and he gags, coughing and spluttering before more chunky liquid is brought up which splashes into the bowl. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, just the fact that it looked so much like his dinner still sent his stomach into another wheel.

"That's it, let it out Kookie, my sweet boy." Jimin hums, digging under the sick man's shirt and rubbing up and down his arched back. He grimaces when Jungkook retches again, throwing up even more which makes his heart ache.

"You're doing well bun, I'm so proud of you. Keep going until you feel like you've finished" He encourages, kissing his shoulder and pulling him closer before pausing when Jungkook sobs.

"H-hyung…" Jungkook chokes out, hiccuping as fat tears roll down his rosy and embarrassed cheeks. Usually, he's never one to cry so easily but pregnancy hormones had him spiralling into a pouty and emotional wreckage in a flash. Something was gnawing at him.

"Jungkookie" Jimin whispers so he didn't startle him, stroking his hair back as he listened.

"W-why this bowl… I got you it f-for our anniversary!" Jungkook cries out making Jimin flinch, his mouth wide in realisation now that Jungkook's refusal to puke earlier was because he didn't want to do it in such a meaningful, meaningful bowl. He forgot Jungkook was so peculiar about the little things.

"Y-you could've gotten-" Jungkook hiccups. "A-another bowl o-or the trashcan. I w-worked so hard to get you this. Do you know how much it cost me on our holiday? N-now I've been sick in it i-it's all ruined I fucking h-hate you" He rambles, in the spur of his overriding emotions he misses Jimin's amused expression.

"Cute" He murmurs under his breath with a quiet chuckle, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up, squeaky clean and good as new. You won't even remember that you've been sick in it. I'm serious!" Jimin's voice raises a pitch as Jungkook looks at him unconvinced, his doe eyes still holding tears.

"Gimmie a kiss" He giggles, crawling forward while moving the bowl away as Jungkook groans loudly and scrunches his nose and tilts his head back. "A-ah ew no I've literally- Jimin I just puke-" He stammers, pursing his lips as Jimin eventually steals a kiss from him.

His tears were dry now, the fit subsided and it was only laughter and giggles together even if Jungkook's morning was off to a rough start Jimin always made it better.

#bts emeto #bts sickfic #bts mpreg #pregnant!jungkook #caring!jimin #sick!jungkook #tw mpreg #tw emeto #if you don't like it avoid pls

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Bonus Chapter - Gwyn POV

So we had some technical difficulties, but here's the whole thing (copy/paste was not my friend).

Thanks for the fun @yazthebookish @daevastanner and @bookprofessor

Warm clouds of breath puffed out of Gwyn’s nose and mouth, drifting into the air – the only things obscuring the twinkling of frost-white stars.

She had been in the training ring for nearly three hours. Sleep hadn’t been an option, not even a consideration. The priestess had nearly worn her leathers under her robes to the service, knowing that the singing and celebration would open a crater so wide in her soul that she would take leave as soon as acceptable and retreat to the safety and solace of the frigid night air and sharpened steel. Gwyn scoffed, a hot bitter laugh that rose unbidden from her chest.

This night, the library was no sanctuary. It had been a stark reminder of her weakness, her failure.

Her guilt.

The only thing that had made her choose her usual camisole and leggings under her robes was the inevitable tongue-lashing she would have received from Merrill. Knowing the state she would be in, Gwyn wasn’t sure if she would burst into tears or jump to strangle the beautiful crone in a fit of rage and pain. Best not to test her luck.

She cupped her hands over her mouth and breathed into her palms before rubbing them together, willing the blood not to freeze in her fingertips before selecting a sword from the rack. She had spent extra time stretching to combat the cold air seeping into her muscles, kept in constant motion. Numbness threatened the ends of her fingers and the tip of her nose, but as a whole she was limber and warm. And so, weapon in hand, she turned to face her foe.

The ribbon.

She silently thanked the Mother for her competitiveness and hyperfixation on this goal, grateful for the distraction that it gave her from the glaring absence of her sister. The raw edges of that wound had begun healing in the two years and some months since the attack at Sangravah, but holidays always seemed to tear it wide open. This was the first time she’d had an outlet for her sorrow.

So she closed her eyes and breathed, centering herself in this moment, letting the grief fall away. All that remained was her, the sword, and the ribbon glowing silver in the moonlight.

“I am the rock against which the surf crashes,” she whispered, eyelids drifting open. “Nothing can break me.” Feeling herself balance, muscles thrumming with anticipation, she sliced the sword. And watched the ribbon wave, uncut, in the winter breeze. She groaned, but set her feet, took a breath, and swung again.

The ribbon simply glided over the blade, taunting her as it straightened. She felt a warm bubble of frustration begin to glow in her chest. Her lips tilted up in a grim smirk as she took her stance again, preparing to swipe the sword. But just as she lifted her arm the sound of boots softly hitting stone seemed to echo from the silent night behind her. The priestess spun to face…

Azriel?

Perhaps the warmth under her breastbone had not been frustration, after all.

“I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here, and –“

“It’s fine,” the shadowsinger answered coolly. “I came to retrieve something I forgot.” Gwyn regarded the shadows that were his constant companions. It almost seemed as if they were… looking at her? Was that even possible?

Perhaps the chill was seeping into her mind.

The priestess smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She lifted her arm, sword in hand, to gesture to the offending strand of silk. Hopefully the ribbon would heed the threat of the blade pointed blatantly at its length and behave.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked. Gwyn just shrugged, in spite of her frozen nose and fingertips.

“Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

Azriel nodded in silence, and for a moment his eyes caught hers. Something flickered there, like a match struck in a hurricane. Gwyn lowered her gaze. She could only imagine what the spymaster saw when he looked at her, the memories and images that might churn behind his hazel eyes. It had been he who had found her that night – nude, bloodied, trembling. Is that who he saw, even now?

Is that who he would always see?

“Happy Solstice,” she offered, an attempt to break the silence and to interrupt the path of her own rumination.

“Are you kicking me out?” Azriel snorted. Her eyes widened, gaze flashing back up to him.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just… I know you like to be alone.” Mother above, Gwyneth. Could you sound any more like a rambling fool? She let herself grin at him, and her own panicked musings. “Is that why you came up here?”

“I forgot something,” he reminded her.

The priestess fixed him with a skeptical eye. “At two in the morning?” She felt her grin widen with amusement, corners of her eyes crinkling.

“I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

Gwyn thanked the Mother for the ridiculousness of his words, lest she be completely unraveled by the crooked smile that he’d offered her. That smile, alone, was a gift. She knew that Azriel did not hand them out freely.

“A comfort for every growing child,” she remarked scathingly, and she swore he nearlyreleased a snicker. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did sleep with a dagger, or four. Actually, now that he mentioned it, she had absolutely no doubt that he did. Maybe he clutched one close to his chest, cuddling it like a teddy bear. “How was the party?”

One of his shadows broke away from him and twirled with the fog that her question had puffed into the air. Like a little dancing duet. She wondered what had prompted the shadow’s bravery.

“Fine.”

The shadowsinger definitely left some things to be desired as far as conversation went.

As if he realized that very thing, he tried again. “It was nice.” And that wasn’t much better. “Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes.” Though she couldn’t really call what she had done ‘celebrating’. “Though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.”

Again. His gift for words was astounding. But Gwyn took it as a challenge, to see just how far she could draw him out from behind the indifferent mask of the spymaster. So she tilted her head at him.

“Do you sing?”

Azriel blinked at her in surprise and she felt a small twinge of satisfaction in her chest. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I ama shadowsinger,” he corrected. “It’s not a title that someone just made up.”

Gwyn shrugged at him. Semantics, and beside the point. “Do you, though? Sing?”

“Yes,” he chuckled.

Oh, this was quite the development, and she had so many more questions! What was his favorite song? What kind of music did he prefer? The priestess wondered what his voice would sound like, if it would be just as velvety and smooth as it was when he spoke. She took a breath to ask if she could hear –

“Try cutting the ribbon again.” The abrupt redirection of the conversation was as clear a signal as there could be.

Another time, then.

“What – with you watching?” The shadowsinger nodded, and Gwyn felt her skin prickle with nervous anticipation. Which was silly. Azriel was present daily at training, and he had worked with her privately on multiple occasions. Maybe it was the holiday. Maybe it was the winter chill. Maybe it was her shattered heart, broken but healing, and the emptiness Catrin had left behind. Maybe it was the desperate hope that he saw more in her than the broken, bleeding girl he’d found in the temple two years ago. But that wholly undivided attention on her, in that moment, sparked something inside of her. So she took a breath, found her footing, and swung.

It was all she could do not to throw her head back and groan and the still-intact ribbon, gently swaying, taunting her under the stars.

“Again.”

Gwyn delivered another blow. She knew her technique was good – she was the definition of determined, a perfectionist. And yet…

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground.” Azriel pulled the Illyrian blade from the scabbard between his wings, shadows content to observe. The priestess also watched intently, determined to correct even the slightest error. She wanted to be the first to cut the ribbon. “Watch.”

He moved his arm slowly, mimicking her movements and rotating his wrist the same way that she had. The siphon on his hand seemed to glow in the moonlight, and she found her gaze sliding between his wrist and the pale scars that covered his fingers. It was far from the first time she had noticed them, but that didn’t keep her from wanting to know what had happened to cause them. But she had also noticed that he seemed to hide his hands as often as possible. Gwyn was not known for thinking before she spoke, but she knew that this particular conversation would come on Azriel’s terms. “You see how you open up right here?” He then shifted his wrist, correcting himself. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn mirrored the movement, slow and controlled, biting her bottom lip as she worked to correct her wrist position as her arm moved through the air. It took three times before she could do it without the error. “I blame Cassian for this,” she huffed. “He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.” She practically beamed at him, the dual achievement of correcting her swing and making the shadowsinger laugh lighting her veins with pride.

And then he dipped his head and shoulders, almost a bow. His goodbye.

“Happy Solstice,” he said before turning to head into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded before turning herself back to face the ribbon. She was eager to try to slice through it, after the impromptu lesson. But as she breathed in, a bone-deep weariness slumped her shoulders. Where earlier she had known that sleep would be an impossibility, now she felt calm. Almost at peace, the jagged wounds around her heart softened and comforted. The forced exhaustion and focus of training would have had something to do with that, of course. That had been her plan.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if the easy banter, the soft chuckles, and that crooked grin had been a balm to her soul, as well.

He hadn’t retrieved his ‘favorite dagger’. Hadn’t retrieved anything at all. But whatever it was that Azriel had intended to do in the training ring that night, their conversation and lesson had seemed enough for him to leave the ring calm and content – as far as she could discern. He had smiled. He had laughed.

She put the sword back in the rack, determined to remember what Azriel had taught her the next time she was in the ring. Looking up at the stars, she blew into her cupped hands and rubbed them together, encouraging warmth back into her frozen fingertips.

“Happy Solstice, Catrin,” she whispered, sending the cloud of her breath as a messenger into the heavens.

Her legs were heavy and barely able to carry her back to the dormitory, into her bed. She didn’t bother to remove the leathers, even though she knew she would regret it in the morning. All she could think about was sleep. And the sweet lullaby in her soul, a deep rich voice glowing blue and gold, swathing her in comfort and peace and hope.

#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel week #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel fic

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years

Text

Second Star to the Right | Na Jaemin (TEASER)

✦ Jaemin x reader ✦ Fluff, Smut, Smut, Smut, Angst, Fairy AU ✦ 1/5 for HOLIDAY SERIES: Once Upon A December

Summary: Jaemin is a mere tooth fairy who’s just doing his job collecting teeth became you’re one and only true friend. You have strict parents so you crave for adventure and so Jaemin offered you one and brought you to Neverland. As you two grew old together, you became closer and soon fall in love with each other. Seasons change and so does your feelings towards Jaemin. Will a tooth fairy and a human will have a happy ending?

Warnings: Heavy cheating, swearing, skinny dipping, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex, nipple play, betrayal

A/N: PURE FICTION. Inspired by the fairytale Peter Pan, but not following the main plot. Just the idea of never growing up, fairies and pixie dust. It’s a cute story of saying good bye to your innocence, childhood, and accepting that you’re growing. Nothing heavy don’t worry. if tumblr deletes this in the tags again, i’ll delete this again wahaha

Date: Dec 10

19 years old

Every day with Jaemin is nothing but adventure and new things, but ever since you two started seeing each other and acknowledging your feelings, days have been always sweeter than yesterday. Holding hands while flying, cuddling in your bed before you go to sleep, a lot of stolen and surprise kisses. These things are all new to you and Jaemin, but just like normal teenagers you just let love do its job and enjoy the wonderful feeling of being in love.

It was hot in Neverland today but Jaemin told you he had found another secret place that can make you stop sweating and he’s so proud of it. He brought you to a cave somewhere deep inside the forest but inside that cave, is an underground lake that has cool and very clear water.

“How did you find this? It’s beautiful” you exclaim as you look around the place.

“I just did and it’s my way of making you smile“ he never fails to amaze you. “come on, let’s swim” he was quick to remove his clothes like it was a normal thing for him, he completely forgot that your relationship is not yet on the stage where you’re confident with seeing each other’s naked body.

“Uhm-Jaem,” you tried to avoid looking at his nice body and butt, biting your lip as he stretches his muscles confidently while his back faces you. He had grown confidently lately and not to mention so handsome and manly.

“What? Don’t be shy. But if you’re not comfortable, you can swim wearing your underwear. I don’t mind” he says, not facing you yet. It’s not fair you thought, he trusts you to see his whole being and so should you. You gulped and told him not to turn around until you’re fully naked and upon hearing that, Jaemin became suddenly nervous and blushing but you can’t see it.

“Are you naked now?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he waits for you to give him permission to see you.

“Y-yeah” you answered. You told yourself that whatever happens, you will not look at his cock but as he turns slowly, you don’t know why your eyes can’t stop looking at it. You felt your cheeks warm and suddenly you became shy and you wanted to cover yourself. But he saw right through you, smiled, and hold your hand before jumping into the water together.

The cool water feels great against your skin as you and Jaemin enjoy the hot afternoon and turn it into a nice new experience for the two of you. Swimming deep into the water, racing against each other, picking up shells, the fun made you both forget that you’re naked and helped you with you’re shyness.

“So did you have fun?”

You were laying on the grass with closed eyes, as you enjoy the warm sunlight peeking from above the cave and at the same time drying your skin before you wear your clothes again. Jaemin is beside you with his shoulder propped and is unbelievably close to you, secretly admiring your naked body and how beautiful you are under the warm sunlight.

“I did. Thank you” you turned your head to face and opened your eyes, “Jaem, what did you feel when you saw me naked for the first time earlier?” you reach for his face and cup it with one hand.

“Shy, at the same time excited because we get to do this but most importantly, I felt lust and my mind was so quick to think about dirty things I want to do- I’m sorry” he was quick to apologize and kissed your hand lovingly.

“No, it’s fine. I felt it too”

Jaemin was taken aback and felt the lust again but this time even stronger that he felt his cock hardens and poke the side of your thigh. “So” he was shy to ask you something but somehow the lust he’s been feeling is giving him the push, “can I try something? If that's okay with you? Baby?”

You only nod, but the way his voice deepens when he asked you made you nervous and excited. Just like Jaemin, you felt the lust he talked about. He came closer, closer, and closer, and until he reaches your exposed shoulder and planted a soft kiss there. But it didn’t end there. He kissed you on the same spot again, but this time he kissed you all the way down until his lips reached your boob and his hot breath is making your nipples sensitive.

His tongue made contact on your nipples first, then you felt his lips, and the next thing you know he’s sucking your right boob. It feels so good that you roll your head back and close your eyes again while letting out soft moans. Soon your hand rests at the back of Jaemin’s head, combing your fingers on his soft locks, and tugging whenever he playfully bites your nipple to make you giggle.

And right then and there your innocence was stained and it was the start of a different exploration and curiosity with Jaemin.

“How?” You were still surprised about what he just did but you love it and at the same time curious.

“Me and the other fairies peek whenever Mark and his girlfriend do it in the woods. Then we’ll tease him after”

“Pervert” you tease him.

“Want to do more?” he offers. You see the lust in his eyes as you look at him. You nod, of course, you want more.

He attacked you with hungry kisses and kneeled in between your legs without hesitation, putting his fingers to work and started touching you on your pussy. Once again you were taken aback by his confident move but instead of getting shy you accepted it and spread your legs wider so he can gain more access to your pussy. Jaemin noticed that his fingers were gliding smoothly on your slit because you were wet and he caused it, he also knew that you’re loving what he’s doing because your moans sound great, you’re rolling your hips, and you’re parting your lips. Which makes him want to dive into lust even more.

“Do you want to do it?” he whispers beside your ear while his fingers still drawing slow circles and gliding up and down your wet slit.

“Sex?” You asked back.

“Yeah” Jaemin started kissing your neck while he waits for your answer.

“If you promise you won’t hurt me”

He’s not stupid. He knew you weren’t talking about the sex. He knew you were talking about what you deserve. Jaemin stopped what he’s doing and kissed your lips sincerely, “I promise. I will never hurt you” he says and kissed you again deeply. It was a sweet promise, you thought and, hearing it made you fall in love with him even more.

Before he proceeds to the sex, he grabs your hand, kissed your knuckles, and made you touch his perfect body slowly, all the way down until you reach his cock. You touched it confidently without leaving his eyes, and you witnessed your boyfriend breathe heavily as you help him pump his cock.

“That’s going inside of you, baby. Ready?”

“Yes”

You feel him line his cock on your very wet entrance, kept his eyes on you as he pushes inside you oh so slowly. You were both virgins and neither of you knew if you’re doing it correctly, but it feels so fucking good that you’re heavily breathing as Jaemin continues to push in. Even tho he wanted to just force his way inside you, he can't because he knew you’re feeling the stretch because you’re so tight. You hiss but you smile, and when he asks you if you’re okay you told him that, “it hurts but I don’t want you to stop”

He chuckled low and said, “okay. But if I do this-“ he rolled his hips without a warning and it made you both moan a little too loud. “You felt that?” he asked, completely mind blown with what a single thrust can do to the both of you.

“Do it again”

And so he did. Again and again and again, until you’re scratching his back and he’s groaning beside your ear deliciously. Telling you how good it feels, praising you with every second that he can, pushing in deeply as he can because you request it.

“I can’t cum that’s dangerous,” he says and he sounded like he’s in pain.

“Shit- right, okay”

Without hesitation and before he loses his mind and makes you pregnant, he pulled out and lay beside you. Stopping himself with all the strength he has left. It was very frustrating for both of you not having the full experience.

“I'm sorry,” he says, heavily breathing beside you still handsome and very inviting.

“You did nothing wrong baby, what are talking about“

“For not making you cum, beautiful. I’ll get your clothes”

You watch him stand up from the warm ground with a hard cock and blushing cheeks. You didn’t cum but still, you felt so weak, and the sting from your pussy is still there. Nonetheless, Jaemin looked so handsome while fucking you, not to mention he sounds sexy. “Here” he helped you get up and handed you your clothes.

Just like that, you made another unforgettable memory with Jaemin that you wouldn’t trade for anything. He sprinkled some pixie dust on your head and flew you back to your room safe and sound.

“I meant what I said earlier. Don’t forget it okay? Just trust me like how you trust my pixie dust to carry you home. I love you” he kissed you on your forehead, smiled so handsomely “see you tomorrow” and left another great promise of seeing each other again.

#nct smut #nct-writers #kpopscape #cznnet #kdiner #neosmutcollective #jaemin smut #nct jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #nct au #nct aus #nct dream smut

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honeybeesiness · 3 years

Text

an unholy holiday.

word count: 2k.

slight nsfw warning! dw tho, there’s absolutely no smut and it’s 97% fluff. it’s just the reader being a tiny bit of a thottie ;).

‎

two limited edition sucre frenzy tickets.

The next day was your day with the beloved otaku Leviathan. Based off the kind of person he was, you figured that he would want to watch some anime with you or take you to a convention somewhere in Devildom (or the human world if you’re lucky). Binging the TSL series in the beginning of the year for the quiz against Levi proved beneficial to you (aside from being able to make a pact with him), as after that you became quite invested in the series to the point where you would want to name your pet Henry too. You knew Levi liked how you were fond of the series, because it wasn’t every day where he met someone that shared the same interests as him and didn’t put him down for it. With that being said, you were perfectly content with watching TSL or any other series that Levi chose today.

After breakfast that morning, you had gotten a text from the boy in question, who had not shown up for the meal.

💞weeb husband💞: meet me in my room

💞weeb husband💞: wear ur pajamas

You began to grow excited, as your suspicions were seemingly correct. It seemed like you were quite good at guessing what the boys had planned so far, given how you knew what Beelzebub was planning yesterday as well. Were you a psychic? Maybe you just had really good intuition. Or maybe you just knew the brothers so well that guessing came easy for you. Either way, you were smiling like a madman as you typed out a reply.

You: aight fam, i’ll be there asap

You: want me to wear my tsl jammies

💞weeb husband💞: yes

After his swift reply, you slid your phone into your hoodie and bid the others at the breakfast table a farewell. You headed on back to your room to swap into what you called your “TSL Pajamas”, which was just a worn-looking oversized brown t-shirt with the TSL logo on it along with a pair of comfy grey pajama shorts. After you got dressed, you slid down the hall and knocked on Levi’s door.

“Come in.”

And you did, shutting the door behind you. You grinned giddily at Leviathan (who was situated in his bathtub) before turning your attention to the rest of the room. Surrounding the bathtub that was Leviathan’s bed was a large array of snacks and drinks, most of which were your favorites. You didn’t think Devildom had human food like this, and you wondered if Levi went out of his way to get you these things. You were grateful, and you sent him a cheeky look, also deciding that it would be funny to tease him just a little. Embarrassed Levi was one of your favorite Levis, after all.

“Did you get all of this for me~?” You batted your eyelashes, slowly and sensually bending over to pick up a bottle of banana flavored ramune, which you examined while still being crouched. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the bluenette’s face flush a scarlet color, and that was enough to satisfy you for the moment. “Thank you.”

“LOL, they’re not all for you, you know!” He squawked, still mildly embarrassed, but soon his face returned to its normal hue. “Believe it or not, there are some foods from the human world that actually taste good!”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a packet of chocolate pocky (a classic) as well as another favorite snack of yours before sauntering over to where Levi was sitting in the bathtub. “What’re we doin’? With all these snacks, I would assume you have something in mind.”

“You and I are going to be having an anime marathon.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of one of his PC monitors whose position he changed so the both of you could watch. “I wanna watch TSL and I don’t listen to normies who say no.”

“No. We literally watch TSL EVERY time I come to hang out here! Let’s try somethin’ new for once.” You said defiantly, earning a huff and a mini pout from the boy in return. You were clearly contradicting what you had thought to yourself earlier, but we don’t talk about that.

“FINE. What do you suggest?” He grumbled, pulling his keyboard closer to his lap so he could bring up his Softbun account. You put one foot into his bathtub and his head immediately shot over to look at you, his expression a little bit wild. “What are you doing?!”

You put another foot in. “Getting comfortable, of course, so scooch over! Your fatass is hogging the tub.”

“Excuse me?!” Levi sounded offended, but he was smiling as he (hesitantly) moved over. You plopped yourself down, hanging your legs over the rim of the tub. It was a small, Levi-sized bathtub, and you eyed the boy as he blushed fervently at your close proximity.

“Hey, have you watched Beast Assassin yet?” You asked, pointing at the series on the monitor in front of you. The show was in Levi’s library, but you couldn’t tell if he watched it or not.

He gave you a look that told you that you had asked a stupid question. “You mean the hit series where the protagonist’s sister gets turned into a beast and the protagonist must go on a journey to find a cure for her? OF COURSE I watched it! What are you, some kind of pleb?”

“NO. Shut the hell your mouth, we’re watching Beast Assassin, but we’re skipping to the part where Airitsu first appears because he’s the best.” You snatched his keyboard off his lap and placed it on yours, reaching your hand over the side of the bathtub to move the mouse (which was placed on the floor next to the bed) over to Beast Assassin.

“What are you saying?! Are you crazy?! We can’t just start on the second episode without watching the first! It’s called “Episode 2“ for a reason!” Levi attempted to take the keyboard away from you, but as soon as he laid his fingers on it, the entire room went pitch black.

You were the first to react. “Eh?? Levi-san, it’s so dark! H-Hold me!” But you, in fact, did not hold onto him. You could hear the boy, scoff, though. “Are we havin’ some sort of blackout? Has this ever happened in Devildom, or—?”

“This is SO unfair,” Levi grumbled to himself, and you felt him move beside you. “Just as I was going to click on the first episode of Beast Assassin!” You aggressively shoved him on the arm for that comment, sending him stumbling out of the bathtub and flat on the floor. Since you couldn’t exactly see him, the only way you could tell that he was on the floor was through the sound of skin hitting the tile that was the floor of Levi’s bedroom. “Hey!”

“What, I didn’t do anything!” You “harumph-ed” and crossed your arms, but you were generally curious as to what Levi was up to. And, as your eyes began to grow used to the dark, you could make out his silhouette approaching his desk where the rest of his monitors sat. “What’cha doin’?”

You watched somewhat blindly as he reached over the screens to the shelves that sat behind the desk, grabbing something that you couldn’t make out. You, too, got out of the bathtub, and you stumbled over to where Leviathan was standing. As he sensed you approaching, he turned away from you and hunched over slightly so you couldn’t see what he was holding. You shoved him again, but much more lightly this time.

“If you don’t stop, I won’t be giving you any of these glowsticks!” Ah, so that was what he was holding.

“Glowsticks? You have glowsticks??” From your spot behind Leviathan, you could spot a faint glow coming from his frontside. He turned around to face you, his face lit up by pink and red glowsticks, but still remaining shrouded by the surrounding darkness. He gave you another incredulous look that told you that you asked a stupid question. “Don’t give me that look! I thought that you used them all at the last concert you went to!”

Leviathan squinted at you. “Bold of you to assume that, since I’ve taken you to all of the concerts I got tickets for in the past year!”

That was something that had completely failed to cross your mind. It’s not that you didn’t remember Levi taking you to all those pop idol concerts before (you did), but you were always more invested in the music and the choreography rather than what the audience was doing or even holding.

“Well, I’m sooooorry that I forgot! It’s just-”

“Enough of your excuses, woman.” Leviathan interrupted you with a flick on your forehead. “An otaku never is without their glowsticks.”

“You can’t say that ‘cause glowsticks aren’t even used for anime! ...Unless it’s of Lyricoids. You like Lyricoids, right? You better. Who’s your favorite?” You reached out your hand to grab at the pink glowstick, hoping to distract the bluenette with your chitchat, but he moved his hands away.

“Of course I do! I like Muka. Her voice is so melodic and graceful, and her songs are so beautiful and meaningful. The settings of her music videos are always so detailed, especially with the backgrounds and how the plot of the song is portrayed through the visuals. Muka also always looks amazing in any outfit since her figure is naturally curvy and mature, and the musicians and animators never fail to make her draw the audience’s eyes. I also really like how—”

“I like the OG queen herself, Riku, thanks for asking.” You interrupted somewhat sarcastically, having another go at trying to acquire one of Levi’s glowsticks. “She’s so bubbly and her voice is so versatile that she can sing and sound nice in literally any genre.”

“I agree, but,” Levi moved the glowsticks out of the way once more. “Muka is—”

There were several knocks on Levi’s door, and both of your heads swiveled in that direction. You also took that moment to swipe up the pink glowstick, and Levi glared at you.

“What if a serial killer busted the lights and is out to kill us.” You mused, scratching your chin. “He’s being awfully polite if he’s knocking on the door, though.”

You were on a roll with your stupid statements today, for Levi gave you another look, this one being much more annoyed. He didn’t bother to correct you, and instead said, “I hope he kills you first because you’re being so annoying.”

Your reply was immediate, and the knocking was heard once more. “Jokes on you, I actually want to die.” Pink glowstick in hand, you marched to the front of the room and opened the door. “Stab me, daddy.”

“...What?”

You blinked several times and held up the glowstick to the person’s face. It was Satan, and you shuffled awkwardly in your spot. “Oops.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that.” Satan surveyed the room, and his stiff posture relaxed— if only a little. “Good, you two aren’t the only ones whose rooms are affected by the blackout.”

You leaned against the doorframe. “This happened to you too?”

Satan nodded. “And the rest of us as well. It is unusual, is it not? This never happened before.”

“Well, I hope it gets fixed soon, because Levi back here,” You jabbed your free thumb in the man’s direction. “is being the biggest prick. He said he actually WANTED me to die! And for what, being annoying? Sheesh, how harsh.”

Satan smiled a little bit, glancing back at Leviathan, who he was only able to see thanks to the glowstick he was holding. Upon hearing your words, Levi marched up and slammed the door shut.

You held up your hands in front of yourself in mock surrender. “Let’s just agree that we’re both being annoying.”

“But YOU’RE the one who’s being annoying!”

“Agree to disagree?”

“...Fine.” ‎‎ ‎‎‎

i have a headcanon where Levi uses crackhead/internet/gen z humor so i decided to incorporate that into the story :”). had a lot of fun writing this!

also, if y’all forgot, Levi legit sleeps in a bathtub 😤.

‎

and yes that is a Sayaka Maizono/Danganronpa reference in the beginning ;)

‎‎‎

Beast Assassin = Demon Slayer. Airitsu = Zenitsu.

Lyricoid = Vocaloid. Muka = Luka Megurine. Riku = Miku Hatsune.

taglist: @wetleafwrites :: @midnight-moodlet

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veryblushyswitch · 3 years

Text

Avatar The Last Airbender - (tickle fic)

Summary: Katara is trying to heal a wound on the top of Aang’s hand when she discovers something new.

Ticklee: Aang

Ticklers: Katara and Sokka

For @dyingtoleeya! Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy this!! 😁💖 Thank you so much for my fic it was amazing!!!! You my bro are awesome and the best headcanon dealer!! Stay safe and have an amazing holiday!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

*————————————————————————*

The day was bright and beautiful. With the war at its end it was time for Aang to finally relax.

There was a gentle breeze which made the weather perfect for a nice relaxing day in the sun.

Katara and Aang were currently outside sitting in front of each other while Katara was healing a minor wound on the top of Aang’s hand.

Aang struggled to keep his giggles in, he had to admit Katara’s water bending kind of tickles.

His breath hitched when Katara’s nails accidentally slid across his tattoo.

“Oh, sorry. Did that hurt?” Katar asked examining Aang’s hand.

“Not at all. It just tickles a little.”

Katara smiled. Could her boyfriend get any cuter?

“Your hands are ticklish? I’m starting think there really is nowhere you aren’t ticklish.”

Aang didn’t say anything and just blushed looking away.

Katara took that opportunity to purposefully tickle the top of Aang’s hand. Causing Aang to quickly pull his hand away with a squeal.

“Whahat was that for?” Aang giggled rubbing the ghost tickles away.

“I just like tickling you. Are you ticklish all over your tattoos?”

“M-Maybe we should head back.”

Before Aang could stand up Katara used her water bending to take Aang’s arms and spin him around then pin him down on his stomach.

She freezed the ice around his wrists above his head so he couldn’t move his arms. They both know that Aang could get out easily but who said he wanted to.

“Katara- what if I told you I was ticklish on my tattoos would you let me go?!” Aang pleaded.

“Hmm- nope. Where’s the fun in that?”

With that, Katara used more of her waterbending to create two tendrils. They lifted up his shirt high enough so his whole back was exposed.

She didn’t wait, starting by making the tendrils draw circles all around the back of Aang’s sides and ribs.

Aang kicked and giggled. He forgot how sensitive his back was.

“Katahahara! IhIhIt tihihickles!”

“Well that’s the point silly. Now let’s see if you’re ticklish here.”

Katara waterbended the tendrils away and traced her nail from the bottom of his back to the top right along his tattoo.

Aang arched his back with a loud shriek ending in giggles.

“And here I thought I found everywhere you were ticklish, Oh Great Avatar.”

“Please Katara I’m too ticklish there go anywhere else!”

“Well now that you say that I don’t think I can.”

Katara smirked and even though Aang couldn’t see it he felt it on the back of his head making him blush even more.

She started lightly scribbling her nails on his tattoo. Going up and down while drawing little circles.

Aang twisted and let out bright high pitched giggles.

That all changed when Katara started massaging that area right in between his shoulder blades on his tattoo.

Aang bucked at the sudden sensation and belly laughter erupted from his mouth.

“KATARAHAHAHA!” Aang shook his head and kicked his legs.

“I’m sorry what? I can’t hear you over how ticklish you are.”

A minute later Sokka and Zuko stepped out to go check on them. Only to be faced with a tickle fight. Or more so a tickle attack.

“Hey there! What’re you doing? Trying to give Aang a massage?” Sokka asked.

“Sort of. Aang is really ticklish on his tattoos.” Katara gave Aang a break and went back to lightly tracing her nails up and down his back to keep him giggling.

“Shehe’s trying to kihihill mehehe.”

“Oh please, I could do a way better job then she is. Right, Zuko.” Sokka nudged Zuko’s side earning a yelp and some blush.

“Oh yeah? What would you do right now Mr. Tickle Matser?”

Sokka smirked and this time Aang could see. He knew that smirk and it didn’t mean anything good for him.

“You two take notes. Watch this.”

Sokka stepped beside Katara so he was sitting next to Aang’s side.

“This is what I would do. Better get ready because he’s about to start bucking like a wild moose lion.”

Aang was already squirming and squeaked when Zuko came and replaced where the ice used to be now holding his wrists over his head.

“Guys this is soho unfair!”

“We know. We just don’t care.”

Sokka finished his sentence and drew in the biggest breath he could. Putting his lips in between Aang’s shoulder blades and blew the biggest raspberry he could muster.

Let’s just say Aang went ballistic.

Aang bucked wildly, pulling at his wrists and laughing up a storm.

“AHHH! SOKKAHAHAHA! NAHAHA!”

“Wow. Great job Tickle Master.” Katara smiled and started squeezing Aang’s lower sides right above hie hips which made his struggle even more.

“Man, you two are ruthless.” Zuko said.

“You bet we are. You better hope you never have to be in Aang’s position.” Katara laughed.

Zuko blushed looking back down at Aang.

“OKAHAY! STAHAHAHA! PLEHEHAHAHA!”

“I’m sorry but I don’t know what sta means.” Sokka added a few last raspberries to the back of Aang’s neck while Katara kneaded his hips.

Zuko even joined in for the last minute by putting both of Aang’s wrists on ona hand and using the other to tickle his exposed underarm.

Aang’s laughter went silent and that’s when they all pulled back.

Aang curled up into a giggly ball still blushing a bright red.

“Thahat was torture.”

“You had fun thought right?” Katara asked offering him a hand.

He took it and stood up. Grabbing Sokka and Katara around the shoulders for a hug.

“I did. Thanks.”

Aang looked to Zuko.

“And you helped them. Wow, Zuko. I thought we were friends now.” Aang giggled.

“B-But Sokka forced me.” Zuko started stepping back.

“No I didn’t. That was all you.”

“Sokka helped Katara why am I being targeted?!”

The three followed slowly.

“Maybe we should show Fire Lord over here what the Avatar and his helpers can really do.” Katara smirked at Zuko.

“I think you’re right.” Aang smiled.

They all ran forward. The three chasing Zuko and eventually catching him.

The air being filled with laughter once again.

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Text

Sneaking Around | Chapter Ten

All of the thoughts went out of Aelin’s head except for one: Rowan was cheating on her. No, they hadn’t specifically said they were exclusive, but Rowan seemed to agree when they discussed his date earlier.

But hold on a minute. Rowan knew she would be here. Is that really something he could forgot? Did he really bring a woman back to the apartment his girlfriend’s in? Rowan isn’t that much of an idiot, she thought.

But why else would he have her - Remelle, she could only assume - clinging to him like that? She was dressed in the shortest dress Aelin had seen in a long while, and her breasts were largely exposed.

All of this raced through Aelin’s brain within a matter of seconds. This was when she saw Rowan turn to her and his expression morph into one not of panic, but relief. Why is Rowan relieved to get caught with some other lady?

Aelin was thoroughly confused at this point. The most she could muster was a raised eyebrow.

Rowan said, “Aelin! I thought you were coming in tomorrow. Sorry, Remelle, I should spend some time with her. I only see her a few times each year.” Aelin had no idea what to say to this, so she kept her mouth shut, eyeing the hand Remelle had on Rowan.

Remelle frowned. “And who is she?” As if Aelin couldn’t hear them.

“This is my cousin. Aelin, meet Remelle.” His eyes widened and he mouthed help.

Aelin summoned a smirk and said, “Rowan dear, catch yourself a girlfriend?” Her voice came out sharper than she had intended.

Rowan quickly said, “No! I mean, Remelle is only here for a little while. She’s heading out now.” He said this with a pointed glare at Remelle.

Remelle scowled. Before she could say anything, Aelin offered in her sweetest voice, “Remelle, you should stay for a little while.” Rowan glowered at her.

Luckily for his sake, the woman shook her head in distaste and walked out without saying goodbye.

“Nice lady,” Aelin commented. “Why, exactly, did you bring her here?”

Rowan sighed and closed the door, taking a seat on the couch beside Aelin, who still hadn’t risen. “I did not bring her here. That woman is a menace. She was trying to seduce me throughout the whole dinner. When I refused, several times, her offer to go back to her place, she insisted on walking me home. I said no but she told me she was staying right next door, which I doubt. Anyways, I figured the easiest option was finding my “cousin” here.”

Aelin smirked. “And what if your cousin was running late?”

“Then I would have had to shove that woman out the door. She doesn’t seem to know what no means.”

A laugh from Aelin turned Rowan’s worn out expression into a scowl. “Is this funny?”

Another laugh. “A little bit, yeah. I kind of wish I had been running late just so I could see you shove her.”

Despite his attempts to remain angry, Rowan laughed too. “You’re a menace too. And how the hell did she become a family friend of the Moonbeams?”

“Gods only know. And you are such a wimp if you couldn’t just say “Go away Remelle.””

“You have no idea how hard it is to deal with her. She was making eyes at me the whole time and what could I say? How do you tell someone you’re not interested when you’re on a date with them?”

Aelin couldn’t stop laughing. “Poor baby, all the women love him.”

Rowan responded, “I wouldn’t call that love, I’d call it issues.”

Aelin giggled. “Can you blame her for not expecting a refusal? She’s very beautiful.”

“You did not just say that. Anyways, looks aside, surely someone’s turned her down before.”

“No one’s turned me down before,” said Aelin with a simpering smile.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Aelin gasped. “Excuse me! I’m desirable. And don’t deny that. You’re the one who couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

Rowan rolled his eyes yet again. He didn’t reply to that, though. “I need to brush my teeth.” He got up and stalked away, giving Aelin a view of the back of his neck, which had reddened. Ha.

When Rowan came out minutes later, Aelin was standing. She walked over and pushed him against the nearest wall. “I’ve been waiting all week to do this. I need to start staying over on the weekdays.”

Rowan chuckled, but that didn’t entirely hide the catch in his breath.

One of Aelin’s hands traced its way down his chest and grabbed his belt. He hadn’t bothered dressing up for Remelle, only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Probably in rebellion of Fenrys’ damned favor.

Aelin unlatched his belt and pulled it off. She unzipped his jeans. Rowan’s breathing was ragged.

Rowan grabbed Aelin’s arms before she could go any further. He spun around and pressed her against the wall where he had been.

Aelin gasped as he pressed his body against hers. Her back arched and her breasts dug into Rowan’s chest. She ground her hips against his. Rowan returned the pressure with equal fervor.

Aelin managed to say, “I think I can forgive you for being a pushover.”

Rowan’s hand roved over her body. “If you spent the evening with that creature, you wouldn’t blame me. Maybe for your insistence to be as rude as possible, I shouldn’t give you what you want.” His hand brushed the apex of her thighs to make his point.

Aelin couldn’t think of anything better to say other than, “Or maybe you should,” as heat pooled inside her.

“What’s the magic word?” Rowan whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

“Prick,” Aelin got out.

Rowan chuckled. “Not quite.” He nibbled her earlobe, drawing a gasp, and his fingers once again traveled south. This time they pressed against where she needed them, dragging a guttural groan out of Aelin.

“You’re an asshole,” Aelin breathed as his hand retreated. Another chuckle.

Rowan wasn’t giving in. He got so close, but every time, his hand stopped when she needed the pressure. She tried to grind against his hand, but he slid it back up. Across her navel, her breasts, her neck. But not where she needed it.

“Please,” Aelin moaned, too far gone to care about her pride anymore.

She could feel Rowan smile against her neck. Then he slid a hand under the waistband on her pants.

Rowan’s fingers worked their magic, reducing Aelin to a trembling mess. She couldn’t even get out coherent words. Rowan’s weight pressing her against the wall was the only thing holding her up as she writhed at his touch.

He slipped a finger inside of her, and then another. In, out, in, out. Aelin shook as she climaxed, held throughout by Rowan. He pulled his fingers out, causing Aelin to hiss.

Rowan murmured against her ear, “Not so smooth now, are you.” She couldn’t bring herself to protest as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom.

The group gathered at Aedion, Gavriel, and Lorcan’s the next evening.

After a morning with Rowan, Aelin had informed Ansel of the Remelle situation, to which she had laughed her head off. Aelin couldn’t help but join in. She had also mentioned Fenrys’ knowledge of the affair.

The two had driven over in Ansel’s truck, and were now at the door. It was opened to reveal Rowan. He didn’t even live there; perhaps he had just been closest to the door. Whatever the case, Ansel leaned over and whispered “pushover” in his ear as soon as she saw him. Aelin giggled, and then giggled some more as Rowan directed a glare at her.

He muttered something about “immature schoolgirls” and moved aside to let them in.

Most of the others were already gathered on the various seats. Aelin chose a different sofa than last time, and kicked her feet onto Lysandra’s lap.

“So,” Lysandra drawled, “How’s Mystery Man?”

Everyone turned towards them. “Piranhas,” Aelin muttered, not for the first time.

“Who is it, Aelin?” asked Aedion, perched on a stool. She just glowered. “Is it serious?” he demanded.

“Suppose so,” muttered Aelin.

“What, really?” exclaimed Lysandra. “You should bring him to the Christmas party!”

Aelin scowled. “I am.”

“What, no fair!” shouted Elide. “I’m going to my parents’ for Christmas.”

Aelin smirked. “I know.”

Lysandra narrowed her eyes. “Ansel, darling, why do you look so amused? I thought you were going home for Christmas too.” To damned observant.

Ansel grinned. “I know who it is.”

“Ansel,” Aelin growled.

“What? I didn’t say who.” At least she wasn’t making obvious glances at Rowan, who Aelin was trying not to look at.

Everyone was outraged. Geez, Aelin thought. Immature schoolgirls is right.

Ansel chuckled. “I promised not to tell. Fenrys didn’t, though.” Everyone turned their attention to him.

“Hey,” said Fenrys. “I’m not dumb enough to face the fire-breathing bitch-queen’s wrath. I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

“Don’t worry, Elide. I’ll text you when I find out who it is,” Lysandra promised.

“You have to tell me,” said Connall, looking at Fenrys. The twins were also going to their parents’ for the holiday.

Vaughan and Gavriel were also told they would be informed. Because they couldn’t wait another week to find out the latest gossip. Aelin sighed.

“Lorcan, you’ll be here, right?” asked Manon. The two got along because they were very similar people.

“Oh, um,” started Lorcan. “I’m going to Elide’s parents’ with her.”

This caught everyone’s attention. Lysandra, the drama queen of the bunch (actually, they were all drama queens), shouted, “Fuck you two for not telling me! This surely isn’t last minute!”

“This is why we didn’t say anything earlier,” said Elide, sighing. “You people are the nosiest humans in existence. I pity Aelin when you all find out who she’s fucking.”

“Hypocrite!” It was Aelin’s turn to yell. “You’ve been just as nosy as the rest of them. At least I don’t pretend I’m not a busybody.”

Rowan snorted. “You have something to say, Whitethorn?” Aelin growled with a menacing glare.

He smirked. “Nothing.”

Fenrys and Ansel chuckled, aware the two were more than just a couple of people who didn’t get along. The others chuckled as well, used to their arguments.

Aelin didn’t feel like adding fuel to the flames, so she just grunted at Rowan and turned away.

Everyone went around sharing their plans. Aelin, Aedion, Lysandra, Rowan, and Manon would be at the party. Only three people would be finding out about Aelin and Rowan’s relationship, but Aedion and Lysandra were the worst of the bunch, so better to deal with that fallout first. Manon would probably just laugh at them.

The others would all be updated when Lys found out. Aelin called them all a few choice names for the need to know the situation. Even Lorcan. Why the hell Lorcan Salvaterre cared enough, Aelin didn’t know, but he lost all respect from her.

The night ended, and Ansel covered for Aelin by suggesting they go home as Rowan and Fenrys did. Aelin hopped in Rowan’s car as Ansel and Fenrys took her truck back to the women’s apartment. They were now officially dating.

Fenrys and Ansel kept making kissy-faces at the two. “Jackasses,” Rowan muttered as he flipped them off.

Aelin just said, “Look who’s talking. You two better not do it on the couch by the way. I sit on that.”

Ansel and Fenrys reddened at that, letting Aelin and Rowan drive off laughing. “Gods, I was serious though. And the table. I eat there.” Aelin started praying those two kept it in the bedroom.

Rowan chuckled. “Stop worrying. If they sully your furniture, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Not helpful,” Aelin said, scowling. “Ew. There are images in my find. Gods spare me.”

Rowan laughed at her. And off they drove.

#rowaelin #tog #sneaking around #my writing

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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years

Text

Chapter 29, Part I

Buster had hoped that the picture would progress more smoothly back in Culver City. New York had been recreated on Lot Two in no time and was ready for filming by the time he returned to M-G-M on Monday the 30th. He was finding that even without the onerous script, however, he just couldn’t go back to the way he’d done things a few short months before.

When arrived on the set, he hadn’t wanted to get into the scenes of him and the girl right away. Instead, he pulled Bruckman aside and chewed over ways to lead the audience into the story, break the ice a little. Maybe a fussy grande dame carrying too much weight wanted a portrait of her little boy. Buster could see them in his head, the fat lady brushing the shoulders of the kid’s jacket, posing him just so. When she wasn’t looking, the scoundrel would stick out his tongue or thumb his nose. In the meantime, he—that is to say, the photographer—would be growing more and more frustrated with the boy. After being scolded by the lady, who wouldn’t hear that her perfect angel was monkeying around, he would finally take the portrait and show her the result. Upset, she’d blame the kid’s behavior on him. The conversation would get heated, drawing the attention of a drunk panhandler who would ask for his portrait to be done too. After all, his cup was full of pennies, wasn’t it? He could afford it. The lady would object. No, her boy was first in line. There’d be a yelling match between the two, the finely dressed fat woman and the ragged skinny drunk, followed by some shoving, in which Buster became collateral damage when the drunk ducked a punch. The hullabaloo would attract a crowd, and finally a policeman (giving Buster a suspicious look as though he was the cause of it all) would disperse the crowd. Buster would be left on the sidewalk, unpaid for his portrait of the kid and worse off than when he started.

This idea having occurred, he’d called to the crew to get him a fat lady, a kid, and someone who could play a drunk. They just looked at him like he had three heads.

“What’s the big idea?” he’d said.

“C’mere, I wanna word,” Sedgwick had said, frowning over the cigarette between his lips.

They’d gone around the corner until they were out of earshot, then the older man rounded on him. “What in the fuck was that?”

“What in the fuck was what?” said Buster, genuinely baffled.

“All the business of ‘Get me this, I want that.’ You made me look like a damned ass in front of my men.”

“How?” said Buster, astonished.

“By undermining my authority, that’s how. I’m the director. You barking orders makes me look like a spare prick.”

Buster had tried not to gape. He felt his own anger begin to rise. Wanting to keep the peace, though, he’d swallowed and said, “Well, I’m awful sorry. It’s nothing personal, honest, I just never worked another way. It won’t happen again, alright? You have my word.”

Sedgwick’s shoulders had relaxed somewhat and his expression softened. “Thanks. Look, I know it’s got to be tough to adjust, but we do things different. Just watch. You’ll see it’ll get taken care of.”

The scene didn’t get taken care of, despite Sedgwick’s assurances. Buster had stood back chain-smoking and watching calamity unfold. The kid was uncooperative, too green to be anything other than nervous in front of the camera. The fat lady couldn’t seem to understand that the camera couldn’t see the kid when she stood in front of him in all her overproportioned glory. The drunk couldn’t take direction at all, to the point that Buster suspected the drunkness wasn’t an act.

Finally, Sedgwick had thrown up his hands. “This is a disaster. Buster, line these god damn people up and get this fucking shot over with.”

Buster stubbed his cigarette out. “Me?”

Sedgwick had looked pained. “Yes, you. Who else?”

Feeling satisfied inside, Buster had taken over and soon had all parties in line and the scene rolling right along. In the days following, Sedgwick didn’t try to interfere with him and he didn’t try to interfere with Sedgwick, and they grew to like each other. A large man, he had a big appetite and liked to come over to Buster’s half of the bungalow to eat an elaborate lunch cooked up by Caruthers rather than patronize the studio cantine. Buster dubbed him Junior.

Even though Weingarten was up his ass about something every other day, shooting was going alright, too. Maybe it wasn’t the way he was used to working, but at least he’d gotten three-quarters of his control back and could dispense with things like jewel thieves and kidnappings.

As April gave way to May that week, he stayed overnight at the bungalow. On Wednesday he managed to sneak Nelly in. They had to forgo their usual activities beneath the sheets owing to her monthly visitor, but they had a nice dinner of roast lamb and potatoes and tried a few foxtrots in the front room, bumping into furniture because was hardly any room, then Nelly practiced her lines while he smoked and perused the latest pile of newspapers and magazines that Caruthers had left.

On Friday night, he drove back to the Villa. He arrived just in time for dinner, catching Natalie as she passed through the atrium.

“Hello, Nate,” he said. He’d just hung his coat and hat and kicked off his shoes.

“Oh, you’re back in time for dinner,” she said without a smile. He could tell by the way she said it that it was a question in disguise: Why haven’t you been home for dinner?

“Well sure, it’s Friday night. Ain’t filming tomorrow. I’m staying at the bungalow while we’re filming,” he added. “Toldja that.”

“You didn’t,” she said, unsmiling. “You didn’t say you were staying at the bungalow this week.”

He considered his wife’s unhappy countenance and tried to remember if he’d called her on Monday. He’d had dinner with Sedgwick, then there was a bridge game and drinks with some of the M-G-M brass. Sam Goldwyn had been there. Or had that been Tuesday night? He couldn’t remember, and couldn’t remember calling her. “I thought I did. Honest. I got caught up in stuff, I guess,” he said.

“Oh, your card games?” she said, hand on her hip. She looked beautiful, all polish, poise, and elegance. “Maybe with that girl from your picture? Marceline?”

His eyes widened. “Marceline? You mean Marceline Day?” He knew he ought to be used to Natalie’s jealousy by now, but sometimes it flew at him out of the blue and smacked him straight in the face like that baseball last July. He’d hardly filmed a single scene with his newest leading lady, let alone entertained thoughts of seducing her.

“I simply find it incredible you’d forget to call me over a card game.”

“Well, it’s true whether you believe it and I said I’m sorry.” He reached for her arm. “C’mon, let’s not fight about silly stuff.”

“Oh, I agree it’s silly alright,” she said, brushing off his hand. “I didn’t make it so, you did.”

“Nate,” he said. “The kids. C’mon, they’re in the other room for Christ’s sakes.” In an attempt to extinguish the argument, he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed both her cheeks in quick succession. “Please? You’ve got me tomorrow and Sunday. I’ll spend all that time with you. I’m all yours.”

Natalie grimaced. “I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon for Lake Tahoe. With Norma. Don’t tell me you forgot that too.”

“Of course I didn’t,” he lied. He had no recollection of her telling him about Lake Tahoe, though supposed it had been discussed in New York when he was listening with half an ear. “Let’s make the most of tonight then, and tomorrow morning.”

“We’re having veal for dinner,” she said, ignoring his offer.

“Good. I’m hungry.”

It wasn’t much of a truce, but he treated it like one and put his arm through hers and walked her to the dining room.

Natalie went to bed early that night complaining of a headache and was too preoccupied the next day buying new outfits for her trip with Norma to trouble with him. “I’m sorry, but it’s supposed to be warm and we’ve got to have some lighter dresses for the trip,” she’d said just before departing.

He tried to distract himself golfing with Tom Mix, but kept getting stuck on thoughts of his wife like a skip in a record. There had been a time when Nate had loved him and they’d gotten along, he could almost swear by it. He’d once spent hours with her mother and sisters, not resenting them for taking up Natalie’s time and attention. Rather, he had been glad to be in their midst even though Peg had never made a secret of the fact that she didn’t think him good enough for her middle daughter. It had been easy then to love the people who loved Natalie.

There had also been a time when Nate and him had talked about more than the children, kissed in more than a perfunctory way, and shared more than just a house and money. To this day he couldn’t understand why it wasn’t that way between them anymore, couldn’t remember when they’d begun to drift apart. He was pretty sure she had still loved him when they’d moved into the Villa. When had she stopped? Why had she stopped?

Tom would bring him back to reality at intervals, reminding him that it was his turn to put. He’d forget about Natalie for a couple minutes, but the needle would return to the beginning of the groove and he’d start worrying all over again. If only if he just—maybe if he just …

That night, he got roaringly drunk at Marion Davies’ party, not bothering to see Natalie off at the train station when she left late in the afternoon.

The Villa was vacant the following day, his sons having been kidnapped by Constance and all the servants but Caruthers dismissed until Monday. Their benevolent mistress had decided they could do with a little holiday as a treat. Tired of fretting about Natalie, he drank some black coffee to tame his headache and called Nelly afterward.

Note: I know you’re all sick of waiting, so I decided to publish Chapter 29 into two parts. The second part will likely be longer. Sorry I’m so busy, but 🤷‍♀️

#buster keaton #fan fiction #actor rpf #golden age hollywood #silent film

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when-to-sit-in-silence · 3 years

Note

Can you please write about Jopper date at Joyce’s house(some sort of a romantic dinner Joyce prepared for them because children aren’t at home).

It was one week after rescuing Hopper from Kamchatka that Joyce figured they have that little date they planned.

Of course, where she lived now, Enzo’s wasn’t exactly an option. They could have gone somewhere else, but they figured it was best to follow Owens’s instruction to lay low for the time being. They weren’t quite ready yet to reintroduce Hopper back to Hawkins after everyone had believed for the last nine months that he had died tragically in that mysterious mall fire. As much as Hopper was eager to return, to check up on the place if nothing else, it was safest to stay here in California with Joyce, El, and the boys until someone could come up with some sort of explanation.

So, here he was, opening a bottle of chardonnay and pouring two glasses over the kitchen island, wearing a brand new suit jacket Joyce bought him after he insisted he have something nice for the occasion. All of his belongings were back in Hawkins, after all, and considering months of imprisonment had resulted in a much leaner figure, he needed a new wardrobe anyway, and clothes were the least that Joyce could do. He met her eyes as he handed her a glass, and Joyce couldn’t help but notice that the deep shade of the jacket brought out the color in his gaze.

Except for the two of them, the house was empty. Jonathan was with a friend for the night and she’d sent Will and El to the movies. This was the only instance she and Hopper had truly been alone together in the house for longer than a few minutes, and if Joyce was frank with herself, she was enjoying herself greatly, for the first time in a very long time. They played a Billie Holiday record and stood at the island waiting for the tenderloin to come out of the oven, sipping at the chardonnay and talking about anything that wasn’t the last nine months of their lives. It happened to be easy. Joyce and Hopper had a lot of history to rehash.

History like the first time they “met”, at age six when Hopper was riding past Joyce’s house on his bike, very nearly running her over and most definitely clipping her shoe. He flashed her a toothless grin and yelled “Sorry!” as he continued on his way, leaving Joyce to stamp the pain out of her toes and withhold an insult in earshot of her mother watching from the front porch.

And that other first time they “met”, when Hopper sat in front of Joyce in the fifth grade, a girl who was quiet most of the time, except for when she read aloud under her breath or bounced her leg or tapped the eraser-side of her pencil on the desk, annoying him unwittingly until he got used to it, until he started to kind-of, sort-of miss hearing those sounds whenever she was absent.

And then that time they met for real, when Joyce was actually glad Hopper had come along on his bike, because the boys who had only been pretending to be her friends dared her to jump into the frigid lake and were seeming more and more like they weren’t taking no for an answer. Hopper had gotten right into that shitbag Ralph Wheaten’s face and told him and his friends to back off, and when they tried to pick a fight, he grabbed Joyce’s hand and ran. They ran, and ran, and ran, and by the time they had stopped running, half a mile into the woods, they couldn’t see each other as anything less than friends.

“We’ve made quite a habit of that, huh?” Hopper asked, smiling at her over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“Saving each other.”

Joyce glanced down, her heart swelling with warmth. “Yeah,” she murmured, “I guess we did.”

They had a lot of habits over the years. The first was taking walks through the woods instead of heading straight home, which started to bother Joyce’s parents as the nights began earlier and grew colder as winter approached. But Joyce didn’t care. She liked talking to the boy who’s always been there but she never really knew until now. And then, of course, their habit of sharing smokes between periods, which all too often caused them to run late to class. Joyce formed the habit of visiting downtown Hawkins on Saturdays because Hopper’s first job was at the car wash. She’d pass him by between the bookstore and the bakery, acting like seeing him there wasn’t the whole reason she’d come in the first place, offer a wave and a grin and nothing else.

Hopper chuckled. He shifted his weight back and forth to “Easy Living”, and after a moment, the bright expression on his face started to dim. Joyce set her glass down on the island, watching the lines in his face deepen. He peered at her softly and said, “Can I ask you something, Joyce?”

“Of course.”

“Are you never going back to Hawkins?”

Joyce blinked. The question surprised her. Dryly, she answered, “No, I’ll go back.”

“I don’t mean to visit, Joyce. You know what I’m saying.” Hopper eyed her, swirling his drink in his glass. “I mean, you’re never going to live there again, are you?”

Given the uplifted mood of the evening, she hadn’t expected him to bring something like this up. She thought they both wanted to ignore all their metaphorical elephants for the time being, but all this talk of simpler life back in Hawkins must have made him nostalgic for a town that just wasn’t the same anymore. Joyce deflated, her shoulders sinking, and she leaned against the countertop with a sigh. “I just don’t know if I can, Hop.”

“But you really want to stay out here, so far away?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I wanted to get away. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and that place as possible.”

“Do you even like it here?”

Swallowing her pride, Joyce shook her head.

“So why not go back?”

“You know, Hop, I wish I could still feel like I have a reason to be there like you do, but -“

“Are all those good memories not a reason, Joyce?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows at her. The last fifteen minutes of reminiscing really must have softened him, but then again, talking about their childhood in sleepy old Hawkins, Indiana before it became a hot spot for interdimensional terrorism must have been the first time since coming back from Kamchatka that Hopper has felt any kind of normal. And Joyce knew this because she felt normal. Hawkins, for a moment, was normal. And she knew how it felt to wish it could be normal all over again.

Joyce walked around the island and grabbed Hopper’s hand, lacing her fingers between his own. She gazed at him quietly, holding his questioning stare until she could see the ice breaking, the warmth flooding in again. With a comforted exhale, Joyce rested her head on his chest. Hopper set his drink down and wrapped her in a hug. Together, they swayed gently to the music playing from the living room.

“You told me a week ago that you might have never left Hawkins if I hadn’t…” he trailed off, pressing his lips to the top her head.

“Oh, Hop,” she murmured, “Exactly. Don’t you get it? It’s not about Hawkins. All those good memories? They’re good because you were there. It’s about you.”

“Joyce,” he breathed.

She pulled back and raised herself on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. “Hawkins was home, and it’s not anymore,” she whispered against his lips. “And maybe this place isn’t either. But I don’t care. I don’t care because I have the kids and I have you and that’s all that matters to me. Wherever we end up.”

He smiled and kissed her again, hands drawing her against him as they backed slowly against the wall.

They were interrupted by the high-pitched rattling of the timer. Joyce looked over her shoulder, hands still planted on Hop’s chest. “Oh, right,” she chuckled. “I forgot. We’re supposed to be having dinner.”

#jopper #joyce byers #jim hopper #I don't know if this is what you wanted anon #but it turned into this

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

I would love a uni!yoongi & y/n drabble💓💜

🌿pairing; min yoongi x reader

🌿genre; uni!yoongi, university!au, fluffy fluffy fluff!!!!!!! uni!yoongi owns my heart and my whole ASS

🌿wordcount; 2.8k

🌿what to expect; “and another fun fact! the mistletoe plant actually contains toxic amines, and eating its berries can cause vomiting and stomach pain.”

🌿note; outraGEOUS that a mistletoe emoji has yet to exist!!!! unfortunately i wasn’t able to do a 12 drabbles of christmas this year due to finals but i hope this drabble makes up for it :-) if i’m a little rusty it’s only because this is the first drabble i’ve written in a while,..,,. hopefully i’ll have another drabble up before christmas!!! happy reading :^)

»»————-　✼　————-««

if yoongi had a dollar for every time he wanted to scream at you for being denser than a block of tofu he would most definitely be a billionaire

he’s had this thought time and time again but he really doesn’t understand how someone so smart can be so dumb at the same time

he could be holding up a flashing neon sign pointing to him that said ‘i 100% like you and am giving you the green light to ask me out so all you have to do is ask!’ and you would still be like .,.,.y’all hear sumn?

anyways he doesn’t have time to think about when you’re finally going to make a move because it’s that time of the semester ladies and gents

yep

it’s finals season

now, traditionally, the way yoongi handles finals season is that he kind of just goes with the flow

as in he goes to the library and studies for two hours and decides that that’s enough time and dedication he’s putting into a particular class so he pretty much deserves the rest of the day off

and this technique has worked ever since his first year in uni so he’s stuck with it ever since

as long as he doesn’t flunk out of anything he’s fine!!!

but since getting to know you yoongi has adopted new techniques into his studying routine that doesn’t just include skimming over poorly taken notes from class for 5 minutes and then scrolling through instagram for 45 minutes and then taking a 2 hour nap

no no

now he has highlighted notes

now he has insanely detailed google docs

now he has flash cards

and not just flash cards

colour coordinated flash cards

crazy, isn’t it???

this is probably your guys’ fifth study session together and yoongi doesn’t want to toot his own horn or anything but he thinks he’s going to absolutely nail this chemistry final

he can tell anyone about the main types of chemical reactions without blinking

that’s how confident he is about his knowledge

and he knoWs it’s all because of you which most certainly doesn’t help him suppress his attraction towards you

how can he noT be attracted to the person who’s bumping up his GPA??

but yes

yoongi is confident and he feels like he doesn’t need to go over what synthesis reactions are for the tenth time in a row

(also he forget a stack of flash cards at home that u reminded him three times to bring with him today to which he responded with ‘i’m NOT going to forget them just relax’ and he’s hoping u forgot about them because you don’t play around when it comes to flash cards)

he wants this study session to be a little more lax

a little more chill

a little less conversation and a little more ACTION (but not in,.,. not in a pervy way or anything)

yoongi decided to bring a little special something just to make things a little more interesting aND to celebrate the holidays!!

he’s being festive!!

he even taped strips of jingle bells to the edges of his skateboard :-)

“okay, hydrogen bonds.” you flip your notebook onto its front before whipping around and letting out a breath “hydrogen forms hydrogen bonds with three elements. hydrogen is fun. hydrogen is fOn. hydrogen forms hydrogen bonds with fluorine, oxygen, and nitrogen.”

…yeah that sounds right

you turn back around and flip over your notebook before quickly searching for your notes

yes!!!! you got it!!!! hydrogen is FON!!!! hyDRoGEN iS FON!!!!!

“up top, y/l/n!” you grin widely before giving yourself a high five

niCE

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any weirder.” you jump three feet into the air when you hear yoongi speak up and you let out a breath before placing a hand on your chest

“yoongi!” you clear your throat and lean back against the table a little bit

you’re just going to play it off as if you didn’t just tell yourself to give yourself a high five

“what, uh, what took you so long?”

yoongi raises a brow before checking the time on his phone “i’m three minutes early.”

you turn back a little to look at the time on your laptop

huh

would you look at that

yoongi is early

and of course you’re here before scheduled because of who you are as a person

“…well, what are you doing just standing there? let’s get to work!!” you clap your hands together before looking at yoongi expectantly and gesturing for him to take a seat

“just so that you’re aware, i’m pretty sure i know more about the different types of chemical reactions than you.”

you raise a brow before crossing your arms

that is certainly a vEry bold statement because you could talk about the different types of chemical reaction for hours and hours on end

“oh, really?” you scoff playfully as you turn to wipe down the whiteboard

you’ve been tutoring yoongi for the past couple of weeks without expecting anything in return

honestly it’s just fun to ramble on and on about something that you’re confident about aNd it’s fun to see the panic in his eyes when you ask him a question about what you just talked about

and!!!! teaching someone else about the thing that you have to review yourself is actually a pretty effective studying strategy

you tried the practice test the other night and you got 98% so it’s safe to say you’re going to make this final exam your biTCH-

“yep.” yoongi sighs and leans back against his chair “in fact, i bet you that i’ll get every single one of your questions right this session.”

“what happens if you don’t?”

“if i get even one question wrong, i will… play one of your dumb studying games.”

your eyes widen in excitement

“charades for chemists??” (an exciting upgrade from the original version of charades)

((u have to try to act out a reaction))

((it’s a lot more exciting than it sounds))

“but if i get every single one of your questions right, you’ll have to play one of my games.”

“…what kind of game?”

“you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” yoongi smiles sweetly “it’s nothing like your dumb charades game, i can tell you that.”

you narrow your eyes suspiciously and yoongi shrugs

there’s no way he’d be able to get all of your questions right

obviously it’d be great if he got all of them right because that means these tutoring sessions are actually working but then again it’s yoongi

yoongi who uses pipettes to squeeze tiny spurts of air in your face just because ‘it’s fun!!’

yoongi who has the balls to juggle glass beakers in the middle of a lab in front of the professor

it’s yoongi

of course the idiotic things he does in class doesn’t exactly correlate to his intelligence

he actually did pretty well on the last lab report

“you have three seconds to decide if you wanna do this or not otherwise the offer’s off the table.” yoongi waves a hand in front of your face and you straighten up a little before sticking your hand out for him to shake

“alright, min yoongi. game on.”

the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a devilish smile

honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.

you flip your notebook open to the page where you have a bunch of practice questions written down and you skim the list

alright

you’ll throw yoongi a bone

“we’ll start off easy. what’s the difference between exothermic and endothermic reaction-“

“endothermic takes in energy - for example, ice melting - and exothermic gives off heat - for example, lighting a match.” yoongi answers without blinking

…

okay

that answer was word for word what you have written down in your notes

you should probably reconsider the whole throwing a bone thing

if anything u should probably take a couple bones away from yoongi

your competitive streak immediately kicks in once you realise the score board is 1-0 and you’re on the 0 end

“what does synthesis gas consist of?” you raise a brow

“before i answer that - you forgot to add a tally under my name.” yoongi points to the whiteboard and you kiss your teeth before whipping around and begrudgingly drawing a tally on the scoreboard “good girl.”

(you’ll never admit to him that hearing him call you that made your stomach do a little flip)

“answer the question.”

“synthesis gas is a fuel gas mixture consisting of hydrogen, carbon monoxide, and carbon dioxide. it intermediates in creating synthetic natural gas and for producing ammonia or methanol.”

.,,.,.and that’s 2-0 to yoongi

what in the hELL is going on

u know what

it’s fine!

it’s fine

maybe he’s just having a lucky day

all he has to do is screw up once

“-due to the conjugation double bond character in alkyl halide.” the fact that yoongi’s inspecting his nails as he answers your final question is oddly vERy irritating

you can’t believe it

yoongi got all 10 of your veRy tricky questions right

you should be proud because it’s because of you that he knows that he’s talking about but at the same time you didn’t think you were doing thAt great of a job at teaching him!!!!

but you’re looking at the scoreboard and it’s 10-0

there are 0 tallies under your name!!! ZERO!!! under youR NAME!!!

and now you have to play yOOngi’s dumb game instead of charades for chemists

if anything it’s his loss

“i told you you have to close your eyes to play my game.” yoongi reaches over to shut your notebook after he catches you glancing at it (to make sure he actually got the answers right and you didn’t misread anything) for the fifth time in two minutes

you have to accept defeat whether you like it or not

you let out a sigh before crossing your arms and shutting your eyes “what are the rules of this game? how does one win?”

“i’m going to show you something-“ you hear yoongi unzip his backpack “and you have to identify what it is and tell me what its purpose is within 30 seconds.”

huh

sounds easy enough

“so i win just by doing that?” your brows furrow and you resist the urge to open your eyes

“i guess you could say that.” you hear yoongi’s footsteps against the carpet and you freeze when you feel him standing right in front of you

“alright, open your eyes.” you immediately open them and-

“so, tell me, y/n-” yoongi lets out a sigh before glancing up at the mistletoe that he’s holding up in between the two of you “what do we have here?”

you swallow thickly and keep your eyes glued on the mistletoe

u know what that is

and u know what its purpose is

you could easily win this game right here and now so u don’t know what’s stopping you

you can feel yoongi staring at you and you know that if you make eye contact with him right now you will definitely combuST into flames

“that’s, um, well, i’m not a, uh, i’m not a botanist or anything, but that is a… that’s mistletoe.” you clear your throat “that is… mistletoe.”

“uh-huh. and, remind me again - isn’t mistletoe particularly special this time of the year?” yoongi hums and takes a step closer to you

you jump a little when you feel the bottom of the whiteboard dig into the small of your back

the little metal tray holding the whiteboard markers clatters a marker plops to the ground but you’ll deal with that later

because now it’s time to do what you do best

D E F L E C T

“mistletoe are actually hemiparasitic plants in which they kinda just suck water and nutrients from their host tress. did you know that?”

yoongi resists the urge to roll his eyes

he knows exactly what you’re doing (out of nervous habit) but for your sake he’ll play along

“oh yeah?”

“yep. and another fun fact! the mistletoe plant actually contains toxic amines, and eating its berries can cause vomiting and stomach pain.”

“…didn’t you say you weren’t a botanist-”

“-but if we’re talking about its relevance to the christmas holidays, then… well, traditionally, people, um, people… kiss underneath them.” you finish quietly and your eyes instinctively flicker down to yoongi’s pouty lips

“i like you a lot, y/n.” yoongi breathes out and you feel your heart hiccup

your cheeks flush and you feel the heat rushing up to your ears

o god

a couple seconds of silence goes by and you wonder if yoongi can hear your heart pounding in your chest

“if you don’t feel the same way, i-“

“i like you too.” you murmur shyly and yoongi lets out what sounds like a breath of relief

before he gets the chance to roAST you for taking so long to finally admit it to him, you’re pushing your lips against his in a gentle kiss with your hand pressed against his cheek

it takes yoongi a second to register that you initiated a kiss with him but once his brain catches up to his body, he starts kissing you back

a smile tugs at his mouth when you take a step closer to him and he automatically loops an arm around your waist before carelessly tossing the mistletoe aside

yoongi tilts his head as he deepens the kiss and the quiet ‘fuck’ he lets out when you nip at his bottom lip almost immediately makes you lightheaded

it’s when you’re reminded that literally anyone passing by the room would be able to see you through the glass door that you drag yourself away (reluctantly) and yoongi unintentionally lets out a whine

“so did i win?” your cheeks are still rosy and your heart is still racing but you’re trying to play it off as if you’re totally cool about kissing yoongi and that you’re totally cool about the mutual attraction between the two of you but that fact that you’re kinda bouncing on the balls of your feet like an excited child is probably not helping your case

and yoongi’s smiling so widely his cheeks are starting to hurt but it’s totally worth it

:-) !!!!

“you won but i’m still marking you down for killing the mood by talking about vomiting and stomach pain.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble tag

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 3 years

Text

Season’s Delight

Pairing: Yandere! (kinda) Niles x reader

Description: You couldn’t say you hated your relationship with Niles, you just... didn’t know how to feel about it. Where you really stood with him. This holiday season, he plans to show his true feelings for you.

Word Count: 2432

Rating: sfw

Notes: Another commission for the ever so lovely @modern-zervis-lovemail! Again we’re serving up yan Niles but this time, far, far softly for the Christmas Season. Speaking of which, I hope this year is treating you kindly as we reach it’s end!

~*~

You couldn’t help but be in high spirits! It was the happiest of all seasons, and Heroes were simply bustling with holiday cheer! Not only that but recently, Niles had somewhat cooled down with his strange behavior; he still occasionally bothered you with his antics and games, though. You would say you were sick of him and the tricks he pulled… but the both of you knew that was wrong (even if you were loathe to admit it). Even the thought of him now made your heart pound for a very different reason. Since when had your thoughts for him been anything but bitter…? You shook your head to rid the thoughts, huffing loudly. Now he had gone and soured your mood and he was nowhere near you. Fantastic… Maybe helping the Heroes decorate and ready for the coming festivities would get your cheery disposition back where it belonged.

“Oh Summoner, where are you going in such a hurry?” His sing-song voice caught you in your tracks. Surely Niles knew whenever you were thinking of him for sooner rather than later he would appear to annoy and fluster you to his heart's content. Despite your prior thoughts you couldn’t help but smile a little at the idea he had come looking for you-- though you were glad to be facing away from him, lest he see your smile.

“Away from you, now shoo Niles! I’m busy.” You huffed, not even willing to turn to face him. You knew you would lose if you did. It was very obvious you weren’t busy at all.

“Aww come on! Did you forget? I just got my new look! I wanted you to be the first to see, even before my dear Lord Leo.” You blinked, remembering now. Niles was supposed to be the next resplendent Hero, you had just completely forgotten since the season's duties had gotten to you. What realm was he dressed from again…? You didn’t even really know why he of all Heroes was chosen but it’s not like you did it personally... You turned towards him, holding your breath and trying your best to look indifferent. When you finally saw him, little smirk and all, you couldn’t help but gasp softly.

“Muspell…” The colors fit him nicely, you noted. He actually looked really good; enough to bring a little color to your face. He caught your staring but for once held his tongue, simply smirking at the color that dusted your cheeks. “Don’t you know it's the Holidays, Niles? You’re going to look out of place prancing around like that.” Though you were impressed with how he came together, you couldn’t help but tease him. You wouldn’t let him win that easy.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to be the star at the top of the tree, burning brightly and catching everyone’s attention.” He decided. “Besides, I like it! Who knew I would look so good in red?” He mused, looking over himself as well.

“Is this all you came to show me then?” You asked. “I am still busy, after all.” You tried turning away from him but he caught your wrist.

“No need to leave so soon, Summoner! The evening is already upon us, after all, and I can think of nothing better but spending this cold, moonless evening with you.” You could tell he was raising up his charm; you wished you could say it didn’t affect you but even now, with his single blue eye cast upon you and his roguish smile drawing you in, you were having a hard time saying no. This was the first time he had bothered to ask for your company, rather than insert himself into whatever situation you found yourself in.

“It’s cold out, Niles.” You pouted a little and folded your arms to your chest, doing your best to close yourself off from him. “It wouldn’t be any good for either of us to catch a cold because you insist on going out.”

“We’ll stay in then.” Niles didn’t let up, moving closer to you and drawing your face to look at him, thumb and forefinger delicately holding your chin. “You know I’m not above begging for you _____, just give in.” He caught your gaze in his and you were left sputtering and breathless as he waited for you to once more find your words.

“O-okay, geez okay!” You quickly shook him off to save yourself from the embarrassment quickly welling up in your stomach. “You got me, I’m yours… for the evening only.” You warned, looking at him from the corner of your eye, color dusting your cheeks once you caught the victorious look on his face. “Just… don’t do anything... weird, okay?” You couldn’t help but sigh knowing that with him this night would be nothing but strange.

“You won’t regret it.” Niles was quick to take you by the hand, and even quicker to lead you down the winding halls of the Order of Heroes.

“H-hey wait! Where are we going?” You cried in your hurry to keep up with him. You forgot just how fast the former thief could be… You could hardly think while trying not to trip over yourself. “A-and why do we have to get there so fast?”

“Just somewhere we won’t be bothered. And besides, the sooner we get there the more time we’ll have together.” His simple logic had you blushing. Was he really so eager to spend time with you that he wanted to waste no time? Left blushing and wondering you simply let Niles drag you over to whatever corner of the castle he saw fit.

Once arrived, you couldn’t help but catch your breath, resting your hands on your knees and panting a little. “Geez… next time, let’s just walk okay..?” You wheezed out the words, not bothering to look up at Niles.

“Next time, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckled softly, and you didn’t even bother to retort, standing to your full height and gasping at what you saw in the room. It seemed Heroes had gone full out decorating this cozy room for the coming festivities; stockings hung with cheer over a welcoming fire, sweets and treats laid out on a table, and a tree full of colorful ornaments. Under its branches, gifts wrapped with the utmost care sat waiting for the day of the festival where Heroes young and old alike would open them with joy in their hearts. And to finish it off, a big window sat, curtains open to show off the picture-perfect winter landscape and moonless sky.

“Niles…” You said softly. “How did you know this part of the castle had been decorated already?” Your eyes kept drifting from one decoration to another, trying to drink in the splendor of it all.

“I helped.” He said, happy to see how much you liked it. “I know how much you enjoy the season, _____ so I got some help and decorated this room… just for the two of us.” He enjoyed watching the way your face lit up, the light of the fire dancing off it in the most beautiful of ways. Already, he wanted the night to last forever-- and it had only just begun. He could spend hours looking at that smile of yours but there was so much more to be done tonight.

“You did this for me? For… us?” Your question hung in the air a moment as you caught his gaze, the surprise written on your features just as, if not more, adorable than the smile you had worn a moment before. “Niles… I don’t know what to say.” Something sparkled in your eye, brought color to your cheeks and a warm smile to your face. Surely the feeling of the season was catching up to you. It wasn’t like Niles had… any feelings for you, right?

“Well, a thank you would be nice.” Niles was only trying to tease but you surprised him by flying into his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. Though stunned a moment, Niles happily hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Of course I’m thankful you idiot.” Your voice had gone quiet and soft in an effort to conceal your true feelings. “I love it, its perfect. I just… can’t express how much it means to me that you did this.” You pulled back, meeting his gaze and smiling softly. “I just… I’m unuse to this feeling, I guess.” You admitted.

“Oh, and what feeling would that be?” Niles couldn’t help but tease you in this more serious moment, causing you to huff and look away. You let go of him and he let you free. You moved to the window to stare out it, eyes carefully looking over the landscape as you thought about the answer to his previous question. What were you feeling for him? Something sat on the tip of your tongue, something you were unwilling to admit to yourself, let alone him right now. “Do you have an answer for me?” He came to stand by you, his words once again serious. “Because I’m sure you have an inkling why I went out of my way to do this for you; I know you’re not that dense, Summoner.” You frowned at your reflection in the window, seeing Niles’ face was neutral.

“Don’t make me say it.” Your breath fogged up the glass, clouding you from the view outside. You weren’t ready to admit it, not unless he felt the same…

“_____…” He said your name so softly, you couldn’t help but turn to face him. “Why don’t you take a look above us?” Doing as asked, you looked up, eyes meeting the mistletoe that hung innocently between you. “It is tradition, after all.” His smile was serene, his touch nothing but feather-light as he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger for the second time this evening. This time, more than ever you felt out of the moment; as if you were witnessing it happen from another person's perspective entirely, a fantasy falling into place before your very eyes. “_____?” Niles saying your name caught your attention once more, your thoughts falling to nothing as he looked at you. “You seem… far away. And here I had gone through all this trouble to make this romantic.” His laugh was soft but you could sense something bitter. You appreciated how he waited for your reaction though-- there was certainly a time you didn’t think it above him to steal a kiss but now he was the picture of patient.

“I just…” You took a deep breath. “I can’t do this if you don’t feel the same, Niles. Please tell me this is more than just a game to you.” Your words were quiet, your tone barely heard above the cracking of the fire.

“A game? Do you really think so little of me that I would play with your feelings like this?” He tsked gently, moving to fill the space between the two of you. “When have I ever looked at anyone the way I look at you?”

“N-no it’s not that… I just… It’s just hard for me to believe this, is all. Someone like you with someone like me?” You asked him softly. “I just… I thought you wouldn’t want me.” You admitted, casting your gaze back to the window. Your breath had cleared from the window, letting you see the night sky once more.

“Well, you’re wrong.” Niles' blunt way of speaking always seemed to get to you, drawing your attention to him once more. “Since you seem so desperate for me, I’ll come out and say it; I love you, _____, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my time with, festivals or not. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me because I have no plans of leaving you once this night is over.”

“Niles…” He was being himself but at this point, would you want him any other way? This is who you feel for, after all-- Niles in all his strange behaviors… You wouldn’t have it any other way. “You promise? You won’t leave my side?” It felt nice, knowing someone wanted to protect you… To be there with you… be with you.

“No need to ask me twice, darling.” You need not say more, nor he. The moment seemed to melt like the snow on the window until his lips finally, finally met yours. It felt like something you had waited so long for now yet at the same time, something you couldn’t anticipate. Surprisingly though, it was a gentle kiss; something innocent and sweet and chaste that you wanted to last so much longer than it did. Niles was the one to pull away first, a sweet smile playing at his lips as he opened his eye again. “So I’ll take that as a ‘Yes Niles, I love you too!’” Again, he was teasing but you found it hard to care in his warm grasp.

“Yes, I do. I love you too. So much.” You giggle as the words leave your mouth, something light and airy replacing the feeling of uncertainly and dread you had once felt. Niles could only sigh in content as you relaxed in his arms. This evening had gone far better than Niles could have ever hoped, all thanks to you being so receptive to his affections. After all, he would have hated to have made you love him back… This was for the better, in the end. You would always be by his side, and Niles would make sure only he could be the one to enjoy you to the fullest; to love, to laugh, to be the reason you smile, and the reason you cry. Niles wanted it all from you, dear Summoner, and you had yet to see just how greedy he could be.

“So it’s settled then. You and I, _____, are going to be quite the pair.” Niles couldn’t help his smile as you lead him to the fire, the chill of the window having gotten to you.

“Could you quit being weird for one moment? Just… act like a normal man for once and come cuddle with me?” You complained, sitting on a love seat and patting the spot next to you.

“If you insist.” He rolled his eye, pulling you close to him and smiling as you cuddled into his warmth. Oh, if only you knew Summoner. If only you knew…

#yandere #Niles x reader #niles x summoner #fe niles #feh #fe fates #fe fates niles #commission #did this in record time btw #like I got this commission... less than a week ago #the power of the christmas season...

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zims-left-shoe · 4 years

Note

Hi, I love your works. I was wondering if I could request a Zim x fem during the tak the hideous new girl episode. Maybe she gets jealous and tries to explain the toxicity of the relationship and just gets so frustrated with Zim that she ends up confessing her feelings to him? Thank you!

Thank you so much! This one was a lot of fun, and I had a lot of things I wanted to do so it’s kind of long and skipped around a few times. I still hope it’s coherent lmao. I honestly really enjoy writing Zim fanfic because his personality is so fun to write for.

For a Monday morning, the energy in the classroom was off the walls. It may have been suppressed to the best of everyone's ability, but anticipation was bubbling to the surface. As you glanced around, several feet were tapping beneath the desks uncontrollably, eyes darting from backpacks that smelled vaguely of meat to the looming figure of Ms. Bitters, who looked bothered to be there--something that wasn't unusual. One kid in the back was even vibrating and frothing at the mouth. The only ones who seemed calm were Zim and Dib; a strange occurrence in its own right, usually those two were the ones causing mayhem. You suspected why. After all, this holiday was never kind to the social outcasts. Best for them not to get excited at all, it's just another day.

Your eyes rested on Zim in particular, lingering there. This tended to happen often, even from the start. How could you not stare at him? When a bizarre green kid shows up out of nowhere and yells a lot, what else are you to do? You had approached him several times before, eating lunch with him on occasion. Zim was definitely weird, but you found yourself liking that about him. Maybe he had piqued your interest purely because he was new. You had been surrounded by the rest of your peers since practically diapers, and fresh faces didn't come around very often. Either way, as much as you didn't want to admit it, you had developed a bit of a crush on him. The combination of his flamboyant attitude and his offbeat personality was just so enticing.

The phone rang, and you could practically feel the collective breath the class sucked in. Moving in an almost supernatural manner, Ms. Bitters went to answer it. Her eye twitched as she held the receiver to her ear.

"No...no. No!" Her voice came out in a hiss, eyes narrowed to slits behind her glasses. "You'll pay for this one." Angrily hanging up the phone, she turned to address the class, paying no attention to the phone that was being consumed by flames. "Class, despite my moral outrage, the principal is allowing you to celebrate Valentine's Day this year."

Those were the only words needed for the classroom to figuratively errupt like a shaken can of soda. Your peers went wild, cheers close to manic screams sounding as kids dumped their bags out on the desks, meat slabs tumbling out. Again, the only two students not excited were Dib and Zim. Dib wore an expression of irritation, just wishing to get the day over with. Zim on the other hand seemed to be completely confused. His eyes flickered from student to student, watching in disgusted fascination as the meat continued to fall from bags as the kids all had dopey grins plastered on their faces.

"Go ahead. Pass out your Valentine's meat slabs. It's traditional." As if on cue, everyone stood up at once, taking their meat to desks all around the room, full of glee. You had never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day, but you had decidedly been looking forward to the holiday this year. You thought that maybe this would be the day you could drop some hints to Zim and gauge his reaction. Fishing out the special meat slab you had saved and card you made for him, you stood up, pacing over to his desk. There was already a girl there so you stood back a ways, watching the exchange unfold.

The girl gestured the tray she held in her hands forward, offering the neatly arranged heart shaped mini meat slabs. Rather than take it, Zim pushed himself as far back as his chair would allow, his fingers curling against the desk.

"I-I left my meat at home. Sorry, I sort of forgot it, uh..." Teeth gritted, his panicked gaze surveyed the classroom to see if the majority had their eyes on him. They didn't; they were much too occupied with their own valentines to pay Zim's antics any mind. Regardless of Zim's clear discomfort, the girl laid the meat on his desk with a smile on her face. "Get that out of my face!" He screamed, violently shoving the meat from his desk and into the poor girl's face. He swiped at the air in front of his face as if trying to defend himself from an attacker. The girl scoffed in annoyance, picking up her meat and walking away, grumbling about how he should have felt lucky to receive anything at all.

The slab of meat you held felt heavy in your hands in that moment. He clearly was not into the whole Valentine's meat slab thing.

Possibly a cultural difference? You thought to yourself, grip tightening on the meat. You only wished to give him something he would like, and maybe in turn, he would like you. But what to do with the meat? Turning around, you saw Ms. Bitters hunched over her desk, looking absolutely miserable. That'll do...

You scuttled over to her desk, gently placing the meat slab down.

"What do you want?" Her voice may have been as grating as nails on a chalkboard, but you had learned to never show fear around her.

"Er, happy Valentine's Day!"

"Tch. Go socialize with your other hopeless peers before you lose the privilege." Nodding, you slowly backed away. You had gotten rid of the meat, so it was a win for you. To your delight, Zim's desk was empty. His eyes continued to dart around the room, staying vigilant in case some other student came bearing horrible meaty gifts. Letting out one final determined breath, you strode right up to his desk, waving slightly.

"I said I do not want your vile meats!" He hissed, clawing the air once more.

"I don't have meat, Zim. It's okay." A giggle fell from your lips as you presented your card. "I hope a card is okay?" He eyed the paper suspiciously as you slid it across his desk.

"Zim has nothing for you, Y/n." Regardless of his concerns, he took the card in his hands.

"That's fine." With one last distrusting look, he opened the card and began to read. It was a homemade card, something you had spent quite a bit of time on the night before. Doodles in marker were scribbled across the front, and the inside held words about how you thought he was worth hanging around despite everyone shunning him because of being a freak. There was also a decent drawing of him playfighting Dib and winning, which you thought he'd like.

"Oh. This is...um. Wow." Zim seemed to not grasp the meaning of the card. Either that, or this was his way of telling you he wasn't interested. You weren't sure which was more hurtful.

"Sorry, I...just forget about it." Suddenly your shoes became the most interesting thing you had seen in years. However, Zim guessed that he had made a mistake of some kind.

"No! I like it! It is a gift worthy of Zim!! I especially like the part where I beat the Dib." His face was split by a massive grin, and you assumed this was his unorthodox way of thanking you for it. "I thought it would explode or something." You laughed, however, he did not. Apparently he wasn't joking. Another reason you liked him. He was just so unabashedly strange--it was a great break from the norm.

You hadn't noticed Ms. Bitters take another phone call until after she had hung up, turning back to the class. "Everyone! Sit down!"

"But-" The class began to whine, not finished handing out their meaty treats.

"Now!" The old witch snapped, sending you dragging your feet back to your desk. Zim's eyes were on you the whole time, still trying to figure out why you would give him such a thing, especially without something in return. He didn't have much time to give it deep thought though, as the class erupted in whispers at the humongous jet that had just landed outside the window. You couldn't help but wonder just what was going on. Before you could even begin to delve into that train of thought, a girl wandered into the classroom, sharp purple eyes surveying the room. "To celebrate over crowding in Skool, a new student will be joining us." Ms. Bitters gestured to the girl standing at the front of the room. Her hands were folded behind her black striped dress as she smiled. Despite her seemingly pleasant attitude, something about her just rubbed you the wrong way. There was something off, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Hi! My name's Tak. I'm new here."

"Hello, Tak." You joined in with the monotone mumbling of the class, however your words came out in a grumble.

"My father's the head of the DEE-Licious Weenie corporation. So I brought Valentine's weenies for everyone!" With a wave of her hand, weenies rained down from nowhere that you could see. Almost everyone around you cheered wildly, already thrilled to have Tak as a part of the student body. Just when you were thinking she wasn't so bad, she spoke again. "Except for that kid!" She jumped on top of Ms. Bitters' desk, combat boots bringing a heavy thud. Pointing a finger at Zim, a maniacal smirk was ever present on her face. Whipping your head towards him revealed him to be completely uninterested.

"Weenies, schmeenies! Zim needs no meat!" He waved his hand, leaning back in his chair, a bored expression settling on his features.

Tak ignored his comment, continuing on. "For him, I have prepared a poem." Your eyebrow quirked up, you definitely weren't liking where this was going. She cleared her throat, about to begin, only to be interrupted by Sara.

"Looks like Zim has a girrrlfrieeennnnd!" Her voice was taunting, and although the comment was meant to be just a tease, you felt as if your heart skipped a beat. Your skin prickled as Tak ripped up the paper in her hands, rounding on Sara.

"It's not nice to embarrass people! You should apologize, and, um, eat your eraser!" Zim looked utterly terrified, sinking down so far into his seat that only his eyes were barely visible above the desk. To your shock and amazement, Sara actually proceeded to eat her eraser, even apologizing to both Tak and Zim. Things had officially safely crossed into 'what the fuck' world. You peered at Dib, the usual skeptic and gave him a 'you seeing this shit?' look, hoping he would concur. He seemed fine with what was happening, which was the most concerning part of the whole ordeal.

This is officially the weirdest day I have ever experienced...and it's only nine in the morning... You rested your chin in your hands, worried for whatever was about to happen.

"For longer than I can remember, I've been looking for someone like you. Someone with a head like yours, and a torso too. Birds sing, and you're gonna PAY, the end! Now, here's some meat covered in barbeque sauce!" Tak cackled as she tossed a rack of ribs dripping in barbeque sauce into Zim's face. A horrible shriek of pain tore itself from his throat, and you turned your attention back to Tak. Not only were you irritated that she read Zim a poem, the ending was not normal, and seemed to hide very violent intentions. Something was off. It felt almost as if she had history with Zim.

"Thank you, Tak. That was horrible." Ms. Bitters made room for her to take a seat, sending someone to the supposed 'underground classrooms'. Meanwhile, Zim's face looked as if he had been hit with a scalding hot waffle iron rather than a rack of ribs. His mouth twitched in pain as his fingers dug into the desktop, jaw clenched. The bell rang afterwards, sending kids out faster than the speed of light. You wandered over to Zim, following him out and into the hall. He still grasped at his face, which looked horrible.

"You okay?"

"Why does it hurt?!" He spoke through gritted teeth, and you sucked in a breath, taking that as a solid no.

"So...you and Tak. Do you know each other?" You decided to just come right out with it. Might as well.

"No, of course not! I have no idea who she is!"

"Really? Cause she seemed to know you. People don't just read poems to strangers. And she kind of seemed like she wanted to hurt you, Zim."

"Don't be silly! She seemed to like me. After all, meat is a sign of, what is it...love? Love, right? She's obviously madly in love with me." He grumbled, unhappy about the situation he was in.

"I don't think that's-" He paid no attention to your reasoning, keeping his head down in thought.

"That's it!" His eyes lit up, turning to face you.

"What's it...?" There seemed to be a joke you were missing out on or something.

"If it's affection she wants..." The word 'affection' didn't roll of his tongue very easy, rather he spat it out as if it were rat poison. "...then it is affection she shall get." Feeling your breath catch in your throat, your heels planted into the floor, sending you into a dead stop.

"What? You can't be serious!"

"Zim must go! Goodbye, Y/n!" The sound of his heeled boots clicking across the tile further announced his leave as he ran out of the building. This wasn't unusual, he would leave school at odd hours despite school not being over, or sometimes he wouldn't show up at all.

"Geez, if all I needed to do to get his attention was write a vaguely threatening poem and attack him with meat, I would have done that a long time ago." You muttered while you angrily shuffled to your next class, already hating where the next few days would take you.

So far, the day had been going better than you had hoped. After yesterday, you had been waiting for something to happen. During class, whenever Zim would look to Tak, he would laugh under his breath. Apparently you had missed the joke, and so had everyone else. It was concerning at best, and so when the recess bell rang, you took it upon yourself to wander outside, following Zim at an inconspicuous distance. You doubted he would have cared if you were right on his tail, but you had no desire to step in unless absolutely necessary. Of course he had ended up by Tak. She was sitting upon a concrete ledge next to Dib, most likely discussing the possibility of Zim being an alien.

You exhaled a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding when Zim forcefully shoved Dib off the ledge and into the brambles, hopping up to take his place next to Tak. You knew something was bound to happen, it was just a matter of when. It seemed that time had finally come.

"I have come to accept your feelings for me, I congratulate you for acknowledging my superiority in choosing me as your lovepig. Feel honored!"

"Lovepig…?" You murmured, watching the scene unfold. Yet again, Zim had surprised you. Just the morning before, he had found the idea of Tak being his girlfriend utterly repulsive. Now, he was accepting the offer? Maybe? There had to be a reason. There was always an angle he was playing, but you had to say, this time you were at a loss for what it could be.

Silence ensued between the two, the only noise being the surrounding din of playing children and birds chirping happy melodies. Without a single word, Tak brought out a bottle of barbeque sauce from seemingly nowhere, squirting Zim with its contents. Almost immediately he screamed, the sound so hideously harsh that it sent all birds within the school yard frantically flying. Zim fell off the ledge and onto the asphalt, rolling around as if he were on fire. Tak cackled, tossing the bottle aside.

It was incredibly obvious to you that she derived enjoyment from his pain and misery, and you hoped that Zim could see it too. This was the second time this has occurred, he had to understand now, right?

Pushing himself off the ground, he stood up, brushing dirt and barbeque sauce off of his pink dress. You thought he would be furious, but it seemed that Zim was full of surprises this day. Rather, he spoke calmly for probably the third time in his life. "Now prepare your brain, filthy beast of meat and hair." He grabbed Tak's waist, lifting her from the ledge and setting her down next to him. "Your magical love adventure begins now!"

"Idiot!" You slapped your palms to your face, watching the scene play out in disbelieving horror. Was he genuinely stupid or just a masochist? Tak didn't seem bothered, laughing insanely, Zim joining in. They laughed until Tak took a nearby trashcan, shoving it over his head and kicking him away. You cringed as Dib had crawled out of the bushes, joining in Tak's joy with a smile on his face.

That had been the first incident of that day. There had been many, many more to follow. You had decided to follow Zim and Tak to keep an eye on things, as it was clear that Zim could not handle himself. As you had expected, more pain-based loving ensued. What exactly had went down? Well-

"-he had offered her a muffin, and what does she do? She squirts him with juice and he screeches on the floor like a madman! Oh, then he gifted her a slab of meat in her locker, and she threw him out of skool screaming with the meat tied to his head." Your voice had a growl to it, and was getting progressively more agitated at higher volumes. You slammed your locker closed, the sound so jarring that several students in the surrounding area turned their heads in your direction.

"I literally have no idea who you're talking about. I'm not even in your grade!" A very frightened looking boy stared back at you incredulously, thinking you to be crazy. The poor kid had just been trying to access the locker beneath yours, but you had pulled him into a very one-sided conversation.

However, you took no notice of his comments, continuing on with your rant. "But there's more! He gave her a gift, but she shoved it over his head. Let's see, she also sicced an attack dog on him when he was trying to give her flowers. He's being so genuinely nice to her, carrying her books and all that! And she just treats him like garbage!" Throwing your hands in the air, you let out a frustrated huff. "She doesn't deserve his affection at all!"

"Yeah, uh...can I get into my locker now so I can go to lunch?" Once again, his words went in one ear and right out the other with you. The only one that stuck was 'lunch'.

"Lunch...that's it! I should try and talk to him! Thank you, Keith!"

"My name's Kevin." He sighed as you ran off towards the cafeteria. Throwing open the double doors, your eyes rested on Zim, who stood at the end of the lunch line looking worse for wear. He was covered in bruises, one eye was swollen, and his skin even seemed to smoldering. His clothes were tattered and dirty from the fresh hell that Tak had been forcing him to endure. He slouched, looking miserable as can be.

"Zim, hey." You approached him, taking your place in line behind him. He instantly straightened up, wincing in pain as he did so, clutching a hand to his side while murmuring something about his organs rupturing.

"Y/n, what brings you here?"

"Lunch?"

"Ah, yes. That." One of his eyes twitched involuntarily, and you couldn't procrastinate on your true intent any longer.

"I'm worried about you, you know." Your voice was quiet, and you wouldn't mask your concern for him. You wanted him to know that you wished the best for him, and that Tak did not fit that bill.

"Zim is fine." The line moved forward and you both grabbed trays, but you wouldn't let go of your point.

"Zim is not fine. Tak is hurting you, Zim. She's going to do some real damage to you, either physically or mentally. Although by your appearance, it seems that she's already accomplished that."

"Nonsense! In fact, Zim has never felt better." He grinned as if to prove everything was okay despite all of the evidence that told otherwise.

"How she's treating you is wrong." He hummed a response, turning away from you as the lunch ladies glopped mush onto his tray. "I'm serious, Zim. She's a psychopath and it's not okay. At all. I'm saying this as your friend."

Without even sparing you a second glance over his shoulder, he spoke with his back turned to you. "Everything is perfectly normal and under control." And with that he walked over to the table Tak was sitting at, leaving you standing there. Was he seriously just going to brush you off like that?

Dejectedly taking your tray to your own table, you watched--disappointed but not surprised--as Tak dumped both her own and his tray of food onto his head. His face scrunched in pain as if he were being burned, but he didn't yelp this time; he lacked the energy. It hurt to watch, really. Wiping the barely edible food from his face, he stood up on the table, pulling Tak up with him and grabbing her hand.

"Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Tak!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, ensuring that every student in the room heard him. Tak responded by pushing him off of the table and onto the ground, chuckling to herself afterward. Your grip on the table tightened; that was the final straw. Were you jealous? Sure. But most of all, you were more distressed with the situation. You genuinely cared for him, and you wanted to see him in a happy and healthy relationship, not one that was constant pain and misery. Much to your dismay, he still was unable to grasp the toxicity of his relationship with Tak.

It had been a long day for everyone. Especially Zim. When you had stepped into the courtyard after school, you saw him slowly dragging his feet. He looked like he had been beaten halfway to hell, somehow worse than when you had talked to him at lunch. In fact, you weren't even sure if he was human or a reanimated corpse (in reality, he was neither). Curling your hands into fists, you marched right up to Zim. If it was only day one of being with Tak and he already looked this bad, you weren't sure how much longer he could survive. It was clear that he was in desperate need of an intervention. Reaching your hand out, you laid it on his shoulder, feeling him flinch beneath your touch while he squeaked out a cry.

"Oh. It's just you, girl-thing." He seemed to relax, exhaling a long breath. Perhaps he thought you were Tak.

"We need to talk." Zim looked tired, staying put, which you hadn't entirely expected. "You need to break up with Tak. Whatever your plan was, it's a bad idea." That statement seemed to set him off. Not necessarily because he was in love with Tak, more so that he was overly defensive of his plans.

"It's fine! It's a perfectly normal pain-based human relationship." He waved your words off with his hand, yet again tossing your concern to the side. Whether he was just harmfully self-absorbed or truly a masochistic idiot would go undecided. Either way, red hot anger sizzled beneath your skin. How could he be so nonchalant about this mess?

"See, the thing is, relationships aren't supposed to be pain-based, you moron! Your whole dynamic is toxic, she's literally abusing you! Why can't you see that?"

"Zim is not a moron!" Crossing his arms, he turned his head away from you and stuck his chin in the air, quite similar to a small child pouting. "Besides, everything is going completely to plan!"

"Really? Because your skin is smoldering! Was that part of the plan, Zim?" With each comment, your volume increased, to the point where you were both screeching at the top of your lungs, despite standing right beside each other.

"It's a fashion statement!" He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you.

"You are so infuriating sometimes, you know that?!" Your voice thick with exasperation, you stomped your foot on the concrete, internally grateful that no one had stuck around after school to see you two arguing like little children, especially over something so important. You blinked back a few tears that were rising due to frustration and anger, Zim drawing back slightly at the sight.

"Even if it is as bad as you say, why do you care? It's not your business." Although his voice was more hushed than before, his words were still quite cold. You were at your breaking point, and the floodgate couldn't hold back your emotions any longer.

"Because I like you, Zim! Like, like-like you!" Drawing in a deep breath, you prepared yourself for your rant. There was no turning back now, what's done has been done, those fated words had been said. "I don't care how different you are. You're weird, yes, but weird can be good. You may not think so, but even you deserve a functioning and healthy relationship, one where you do normal things like go out on dates, hold each others hands. You say stuff like 'I love you' rather than 'Go die'. Affection isn't supposed to be torture, Zim. Affection is supposed to invoke happiness, and Tak can't give that to you. I'm not saying I could, but..." You trailed off, your brain finally seeming to get with the program. You had already said too much.

For the first time in the history of ever, Zim stood there in a dead silence. He appeared to not know what to say or how to say it. You didn't blame him. What was he supposed to do? Scoop you up into his arms and run off into the sunset? You wanted nothing more in than moment than for a pit to open beneath your feet and swallow you whole, never to be seen again. Grabbing at the hem of your shirt, your face felt as if it were on fire. Staring at the ground under your shoes, you attempted to will the previously mentioned pit into existence. No such luck.

"I, uh, see." Zim spoke first, amazingly calm about the whole ordeal. Slowly, his usual air of confidence was returning. "Well, it might interest you to know that I was going to break things off with Tak anyway." Hope rose in your chest. Even if he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just glad he was getting out of that horrid situation.

"Really?"

"Mhm." Awkwardly clearing his throat, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, genuinely unsure of what to do with all of this newfound information. After a few moments, a grin spread on his face, which happened to be the tell-tale sign of him having an idea. Whether it was competent or disastrous, odds were about 30-70. For his sake, you prayed that it was much better than his Tak idea. "Say, Y/n. Would you be interested in aiding me in studying a normal human relationship?"

Sure, the way he was asking was strange, and you vaguely wondered if he held hidden motives--the answer to that question was most likely yes, but you still felt okay about your answer.

"Are you asking me out?"

"...Yes."

Pearls of laughter escaped you; he was bizarre, always has been, always will be. And yet, he was the one you had fallen for. "Sure. Only after you break up with Tak." It was then that he smiled, not a malicious smirk of a wolf cornering its prey, rather that of a boy who was just pleased to exist.

"Consider it done."

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