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#im torn because on the one hand it's very very sweet she considers him her best friend

the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

Note

I got an idea from the child reader request.

Like the same wolf in sheep's clothing concept but like FULL SWEET TO DARK PERSONALITY.

Wanna hear?

So basically child reader is like cute and innocent at first sight but IS A TOTAL DEMON, Having a very dark sense of humor, Sometimes out of nowhere walk up to someone of the gang and threaten to gouge out their eyes while they sleep, they are always with an cute expression but turns out that they like to cause chaos and havoc just like Jax but in a more creepy way.

For example, SOMEHOW reader is caught hanging from the ceilling scaring the fuck out of gangle just because its fun. Or staying in the dark waiting for someone so they can jumpscare them.

Basically child reader uses their cute-kid as an advantage to scare others off.

TADC x child!reader who is a menace! (platonic)

wasnt quite sure what to title this so!! some segments may be shorter than others since im still trying to get a hand of writing/coming up with ideas for certain characters (cough cough gangle) (i love her sm but shes so hard for me to write idk why) hope you enjoy! majority of this post is just me tormenting the cast TToTT

CAINE:

oh my god you kind of remind him of bubble but more... flkmddlvm

makes a time out rule when you keep making threats to the other circus members, that behavior is not family friendly!

he might even consider trying to go into the code and censoring your common phrases as well as some other words, if he has the capabilities for that

still tries to be a dad to you, though, wants to be a good role model and guide you in the right direction for the sake of everyone else

the first time you say something... morbid to him he just

slack jawed, stares at you before shaking himself back to reality and just

bro is astonished he was not ready to hear that today, let alone hear it from a small child

POMNI:

you know how in the other post with a child!reader i mention that pomni is vaguely uncomfortable around kids since she knows they can dish out some real cruelty

take this idea and multiply it by 10x

actually looks like that one sad spongebob meme with the big eyes and tear when shes put in charge of keeping an eye on you during an in house adventure

meek attempt to get you to behave

not much to say here imo, since its like an amped up version of the last post :O

JAX:

makes a joke about how youre already entering your edgy phase, he now has to watch his back lest some of his digital fur be shaved off

fear does not come close to describing how he feels when he discovers that you somehow found keys to some peoples rooms. he hopes you dont have a key to his room

and he thought he was hot shit, but no some random kid makes him fear the consequences of his actions

is this his punishment for his constant bullshit? what did he do in particular to deserve this?

instinctively looks up at the ceiling when he enters a room to make sure youre not about to drop on him

congrats, youve instilled fear into the funny rabbit

RAGATHA:

the 'nightmare kid' thing some babysitters go through at least once in their life, but instead of tantrums and such its just you talking about how you sometimes tear apart the dolls that came with your room. to the doll person

very uncomfortable by a lot of the stuff you casually say, even more so because its coming from a kid. though i think she would be uncomfortably be talk like that in general

SWEARS that one day shes going to blink and youll suddenly be right next to her or within her proximity

like on one hand she wants to try to guide you to be less dark, like caine, but i think she would need someone to back her up because she cannot get the image of the torn up dolls out of her head

KINGER:

poor man

like even if the things you said were empty threats, he would be scared shitless

if he isnt already in his fort, hes retreating to it the second he sees you around

kind of funny since kinger is in his late late 40s and youre a kid and hes terrified of you

anyways

less of a discomfort thing and more so scared that youre going to go through with the things you say

he walked into the common area one day and saw you literally crawling across the walls, he was with gangle when he saw it. you see his irises of his eyes shrink

doesnt even bother going to his fort, which is under where you currently are

he just

slowly

backs away, he can find refuge in his room... unless you have a key to his room

ZOOBLE:

less discomfort more annoyance with zooble, i think that while she would find it funny when a kid swears she finds people talking like that to be cringe; kid or not

the only one who isnt really scared of you. sure you threaten to disassemble them constantly and hide their pieces across the grounds to assure they can never be whole again, but they're just internally cringing while you try to make them turn away

in a weird way you two create an odd dynamic where you just go on and zooble just halfway listens, you kinda just talk at them

like while caine tries to be your dad, and ragatha tries to be.. something.. zooble is like a weird 'friend'

probably has the most potential to become a friend and get you to chill, but thats just based on my experience

like if its an attention/reaction thing, zooble isnt going to give it to you, which kind of. ruins the point of it for you, and you just

stop, or at least tone it down over time

or maybe thats just me seeing zooble having the potential to be an older sibling figure

GANGLE:

the gif is gangle when you get your hands on her

i understand that she cries easily, but like, you have probably made her cry at least once either on accident or on purpose

i think shes one of the few characters out of the cast who would probably start avoiding you for the sake of her emotional state, but she would feel bad about it since at the end of the day you're a kid

refuses to go anywhere near you when her comedy mask is broken, because otherwise shes a glum mess

you know how in poppee the performer, kedamono's mask sometimes just. pops off when he gets scared or surprised (well it happens regardless of expression/mood but yk)

gangle does that when she sees you LITERALLY CRAWLING ON THE WALLS LIKE A BUG

how are you even doing that

she doesnt wanna know, actually

"imma tie you up double knotted style" *high pitched crying*

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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nightshadewritesstuff · 19 days

Text

'My slice of heaven'

Lucifer x Victoria Baudelaire (my OC)

Do not copy or steal, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

Length: 970 words.

Tooth rotting fluff

Trigger warnings : none ( I think)

The bell above the door of Rosie's emporium rings as someone walks in, I hear Rosie greet them as she normally does with every client that comes in, whether they are for me or her .

The doorbell to my office and design room rings multiple times, pressing the button as much as they can.

“IM COMING,FUCK.” I yell towards the doors. Rising from my seat at the sewing table and walk to the double doors, opening them to see none other than Lucifer, my beloved boyfriend, waiting with his coat in his hands and a sheepish smile on his lips. I quickly welcome him in and flip the sign to ‘with a client’ from the original ‘open’ side. Lucifer sits in the chair near my seat at the sewing machine.

“ What happened this time?” I ask with a quirked eyebrow and my arms crossed across my chest.

“ No hello, or a kiss?” Lucifer laughs out , tattered coat resting in his lap.

“ Your coat is basically in shreds, I'm very happy to see you but I need to fix that coat. No king should wear a ragged and torn jacket.” I sigh as I sit in front of the sewing machine, mentally preparing for the newest tale this coat has gone through.

“Well, um, I may have gotten into a fight with Alastor.” Lucifer blushes in embarrassment and rubs the back of his neck.

“You have got to be joking with me, darling.” I look about as annoyed as I feel, my tendency to not control my face showing clear as could be. The amount of times Lucifer has needed a new coat because of alastor feels like a billion times. I reach my hand out for Lucifer to put the tattered coat, hoping I can just fix it instead of having to completely remake it, not that I mind because I get more time with Lucifer but because the coat takes a while to make. Lucifer eventually hands me the coat with a sigh.

“ Oh my heavens, Lucifer.” The coat is barely held together, literally hanging in by a thread. Lucifer doesn't say any but gets up to the measuring platform. He knows this process very well, considering I make a good amount of his custom clothes. I look at the shreds of fabric in my hands before grabbing my measuring tape and notepad.

It takes around an hour to get all of the measurements done, after Lucifer requested I add a new shirt to the order. Once I have the order and measurements written down, I walk into my room of fabrics and grab the white and red I normally use. Walking back in with the fabrics , I sit in front of the sewing machine and start cutting the fabric to the measurements, sitting in comfortable silence with Lucifer watching every move.

Hours pass as I carefully craft a new shirt and coat for Lucifer, occasionally talking about his recent work and the things that have him so busy. By the time I finish, it's dark outside and past 7 pm, passed my work hours and when Lucifer would typically go home. It's not odd for us to get lost in conversation and the comforting presence of each other, but never for this long.

“Well, it's Done, But it's also 7 pm and my hands hurt.” I laugh as I finish the sentence , looking to Lucifer as he stretches from sitting for so long. I start folding the clothes and putting them in a bag with the order form as usual, while Lucifer continues to stare silently, with a soft ,sweet smile on his face.

“Whatchu staring at,love?” I hand the bag to Lucifer when he laughs and blushes because he was caught staring.

“ Just one of the prettiest seamstresses I've ever seen.” Lucifer takes the bag while he says that, holding my stare with a gentle look in his eyes .I giggle as I lean down to kiss him, bent at the waist almost 90 degrees because of the height difference between us. When the kiss breaks, I grab my purse and walk to the door.

“You going to walk me home?” I tease while Lucifer and I exit Rosie's emporium and my office. “ Sure, darling, why not.”

Lucifer walks me all the way back to the hotel, despite the occasional stares. When we finally make it to the hotel, I kiss him goodbye watch as he disappears in front of my eyes. I say my hellos and goodnights to the hotel members, as well as explain why I was late, until I finally make it to my room, where I lay down, simply thinking about everything. Lucifer and Charlie are the family I never got to have, but I'm here now and I'm going to take full advantage of the memories.

I get ready for bed, gently kissing the photo of my mom and dad, who I miss more than anything else in the universe. When I lay down, a portal opens up above my bed, dropping a large duck plushie directly into my face. When I finally find my way out of the massive duck plushie, I see a note with Lucifer’s handwriting on it, simply reading ‘ for you, my love. I'm sorry I've been busy with work and barely have time for us. I hope this will make up for some of the longing. Tell Charlie I said hi , and goodnight my dear. Sincerely, your beloved Lucifer.’ I smile with the note and proceed to place it gently in my nightstand, with all of the other notes Lucifer gives me. When I finally close my eyes, I'm cuddled up to the duck plushie, with my family on my mind, happy and content.

It might be hell, but I've found my own slice of heaven.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin original character #hazbin lucifer x oc #hazbin lucifer x reader #nightshade writes #please like this im brain rotting #please like i need validation

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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im not very sure if you're doing abcs for the trio but if u do could u pls maybe do C N O and S for vlad? <3

No worries! I don't see why not, my knowledge is just a little more limited for them is all~

Hope you enjoy these, lovely! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Aight y’all it’s time for me to put on my clown shoes as god intended

Though man, what a delightfully rainy day today to write =v=

Fluff ABCs Template here

Cuddling -- How does he like to cuddle?

He is a simple man, with simple needs.

That being said, I think he’s one for a lot of gentle affection. Despite appearances–I mean hell, he literally wears a necklace of thorns–he’s actually a very tender lover. Loves hand-holding, scooting close under umbrellas, making shapes out of the little beauty marks that dot her skin. He will take any excuse to hold her and run with it.

Ideally, I think he prefers privacy above all else, most typically in his room in the castle. This side of him, so soft with his love for her, belongs to her and her alone. He refuses to let anyone else kill his immersion the moment (cue Charles dragging Faust away from doing something disruptive and stupid), or indulge in the sight of her so rosy-cheeked and loving. Loves dropping little kisses to the crown of her head, her shoulders, the backs of her hands. He’s waited so many long years to be able to hold her close like this, to feel the heat of her blush and the tinkle of sweet giggles when he nips and pecks at her pretty skin. All of this, every single second, is beyond value to him…he cherishes each memory close to his heart, crystallized fragments of joy in a life so bereft of it.

His favorite position for cuddling tends to be a kind of side lean. Usually she’ll be lying down (or turned towards him, sometimes) while he’s on his side beside her (usually against a wall or the back of a sofa). He loves that he can gaze at her as much as he likes this way, he really can’t get enough. The person he was searching for all this time, right here, no sign of leaving…

Nightmare -- What is his worst fear?

Oh boyo boy. Oh boy...

Honestly, I really don’t see anything horrifying him as much as losing MC. I don’t think he’s a man above fear. He hates being abandoned, he’s afraid of the world being torn apart by humanity’s indifference.

But nothing compares to the shattering fear of losing MC.

I think he has a very particular intense fear about losing loved ones because of the nature of his life history. He is still deeply affected by his entire clan being wiped out by hunters, leaving him alone to carry the weight of that legacy and loss. While he couldn’t help but give his heart to the woman who saved him, the reality of his terror is undeniable. After so many centuries of searching, after so many years of feeling hollow and alone…Even now, he has never come to terms with the way his family was ripped away from him. To know the gentleness of love again, to finally have a hand to hold only to lose it…

Well, I really can’t imagine the terrifying result of that. I imagine he would be far beyond reason.

Whenever he has bad dreams of the very same fear, he is nigh inconsolable. He holds her very tightly without saying a word (which is unlike him) and she'll know not to let him go for a while. She murmurs calming things, promises of things they'll do together in the future, strokes his hair and rubs his back. They only leave the bed when he's feeling somewhat stabilized again, but even so he'll hold her hand for longer than usual days after. Embraces her more, finds any excuse to hide away.

Oddity -- What is one quirk he has?

I think one part of him that is overlooked is that he is a man very interested in the nature of contradiction, the duality that resides in all things–himself included. Some parts of his preoccupation are more obvious than others. For instance, he loves flowers due to the nature of their ephemeral beauty, but also enjoys trying to preserve them to let their appeal survive. There’s also the fact that flowers can look or smell lovely, but can harbor poisons strong enough to kill grown human beings. (Not unlike him.)

He is a vampire in which the front-end of his operations is a cathedral, and I imagine that was a purposeful move as well. There are so many angles to consider here, namely two obvious ones that come to mind. There is the non-threatening concept of the cathedral: in which people assume it is a safe haven, a place to seek care/assistance/prayer (not entirely so in this case, even if Faust plays priest.) There’s the possibility that vampire hunters are typically supplied by/supported by the church (not sure if this is the case here, but it is a common trope). That would mean Vlad would be using the face of the very human institution that ruined his life to enact revenge, to say nothing of the potential risk of hunters seeking sanctuary only to run into a den of vampires.

There is also wondering whether or not he purposely wears that necklace of thorns ;;;;; (For anyone unaware, there was the whole Jesus wearing a crown of thorns specifically as an extension of humiliation, branding him the “fake king" of the Jewish people.) My contention here would be that he is basically saying “lmao, I’m your suffering saint now.” Or maybe he’s just really into masochistic jewelry, I have no idea.

He appears to have a kind of obsession with subverting norms/conventional expectations, and I have to wonder if it runs with his general underdog theme…

Secrets -- How open is he with her?

Despite his generally guarded nature, with MC he is entirely transparent when they’re in a relationship. Unless he doesn’t want to scare her or simply feels something would be best shared at a later time, he makes no real attempt to hide anything from her. If she asks and he knows the answer, he’ll spill.

(Okay but sometimes it gets hilarious, because say Faust has been trying for years to get info out of him about some stupidly specific thing. And Vlad is always very evasive, dances out of reach, plain ignores him. MC asks and he’s just like “oh yeah, in 1582 I remember–” It’s a wonder Faust never throws hands about it, pisses him off so much LMFAO)

Before their relationship was established he hesitated more, largely because the nature of his existence and his ties to her were a lot to take in at the time. I think he prefers not to overwhelm her whenever possible. It’s very much a kind of “I won’t info drop on you thoughtlessly, but if you ask me a question I’ll do my best to answer with the truth.”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff headcanons #sometimes your honor he is babie #please enjoy giant scary babie man #no matter how old i get these type of characters never cease to be funny to me #he just barks at p much everyone but MC LMFAO #anywho i hope you enjoyed these!!! and that i answered to satisfaction úwù <3333 #requests are still open #asks #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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heyitsyn · 3 years

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RANDOM SEIJOH HCs ACCORDING TO GIGI

a/n: this is a thing i cooked up between doing trig exam and ap gov review akdsjfldskfj

IM PRETTY SURE I ALREADY USED THIS GIF BUT IM WANTING TO RE-DO MY ENTIRE PAGE AND MAKING BANNERS SO THIS IS A TEMPORARY THING AJDJDJJD ALSO I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO THE KEEP READING THING ON THE APP BYE

oikawa def listens to indie music just bc he wants to feel unique and the 'iM diFfErENt fRoM oTHeR gUrLs' vibes

i FIRMLY BELIEVE IWAIZUMI HAJIME IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO CHOMPS ON HIS ICE CREAM BC HE LIKES TO FEEL THE COLD ON HIS TEETH AKSJSKSKSK

meanwhile kunimi eats a kitkat like its pizza just CHOMP

makki caNNOT sleep without a pillow between his thighs LIKE LISTEN he has 2 sisters and they all told him its so comfortable and at first he was like,, ??,, then he tried and now cant sleep without it

bUT MATTSUN LIKES TO SLEEP WITH PILLOWS SURROUNDING HIM bc it makes him feel safe and like there are two body pillows on either side of him and hes kinda trapped in the middle aksjskdk

when kyo was younger, he was really short and although he had other pants, he loved this one pair but they were really long on him and he wore it all the time and the part of the pants that touched the ground is torn in shreds

kindaichi steps on the sofa before sitting LIKE puts one foot on the cushion then the other until hes literally standing on the couch before folding to sit with his knees up to his chest (i do this)

watari sniffs his food before eating it no matter if its something he eats all the time or something new, he still sniffs it either way

yahaba is really particular with his feet and he likes to get a really big tupperware (duh one only meant for his feet) and fill it up with warm almost boiling water and he just soaks them

oikawa has sleep paralysis and he oftens hallucinates about aliens in the corner of his room

kunimi does this thing where he makes weird noises with his mouth like sounds of his mouth opening LIKE when youre tastinf something new and you do that sound with your tongue (I DUNNO HOW TO DESCRIBE IT AJDKSKKD)

makki bends his knees just to crack his ankles

iwa sneezes a ton but he has those sneezes where theyre quiet that you dont even notice or really loudly that it just echoes throughout the gym

kyo sleeps with one sock on bc his feet gets cold easily but both socks make him feel really hot so only one sock is perfect

for a tall and hunk of a guy, mattsun is a very light walker like his footsteps are very light and if he wants to, it can be practically silent

watari actually hates vegetables ajssksksk he particularly hates zucchini, eggplants, any vegetables that are that shape

kindaichi likes to stick or lean against walls because to him, they feel cold and can decrease his body heat

oikawa stands and places his feet at V position like \/ instead of ll because his sister did ballet and he was taught that was the right way of standing and it was considered graceful

yahaba has a fear of cactuses

mattsun does so badly in the heat because his body temp runs so high and the hot surroundings make him feel so uncomfortable and so he takes a lot of cold showers

iwa cannot swim like he freaks out immediately when his toetips can no longer feel the bottom and he panics with thoughts of drowning

watari has really small feet that he still buys big kids shoes to save money

kyotani considered playing baseball because he thought baseball bats were cool but he got angry and threw tantrum after missing his first pitch

iwa chomps on a whole raw chili while eating ramen akskksks

oikawa actually hates sweets bc when he was younger, he had cavities and iwa showed him a cartoon of cavities eating his teeth and will make him toothless

kindaichi really really likes hugs but hes too awkward to ask them even from his parents

yahaba chomps on mints so he goes through boxes of them in a week

i feel like theres a boy in the team who doesnt brush their teeth everyday and rubs a towel on their teeth to make it look clean and take mints to hide their bad breath

iwaizumi is actually iron deficient so he bruises super super fast and he even developed iron defiency anemia when he was younger bc his parents didnt catch on which caused him to be put on strong medication for months and still takes it now

WAIT,, OIKAWA IS LACTOSE INTOLERANT BUT HE LIKES MILK SO HE EATS MILK BREAD TO MAKE HIM FEEL NOT SO BAD OR GUILTY OF CONSUMING STRAIGHT DAIRY

seijoh four bonding time is watching gordom ramsey shows and yelling and screaming 'YEA! EXACTLY!' as if theyre also cooking genuises

watari used to eat grapes all the time until his mom got worried and told him if he doesnt stop, he will eventually turn into one. he only eats it every few weeks

when he was younger, kunimi cried because he had befriended a chicken on a trip to a farm and his mom took him to eat fried chicken after and he thought it was Chicky (his chicken friend :"))

kyotani used to stick out his tongue when it was raining so he could taste the raindrops. they taste better than bottled water

one time, during a seijoh sleepover, they dared oikawa to wear his sisters old uniform, skirt and all, and it backfired so everyone turned red and couldnt look at him in the face

their pregame ritual is touching each other's shoe tips

they tried doing yoga at yahaba's house before by watching yoga youtube videos but everyone ended up having to go to the chiropractor after (how did makki even turn into the human pretzel?)

the local gym gets so scared when they see the team coming through the doors bc these men are so LOUD like they HYPE EACH OTHER UP SO MUCH THEYRE SO ANNOYING AKSKSKDK

also never take them to an all you can eat sushi place. if you do, bring them earlier of the day like 30 mins after opening time so the cooks can cook enough for them without running out of ingredients (even then sometimes they still run out)

oikawa used to eat his mom's roses from her garden because he thought it would make his farts smell good like roses

takahiro is a surprisingly good artist like he draws really cool action fighting scenes in the corner of his papers and stuff

in my work: it's canon that iwa is half filo and his nanay used to dress him up in a barong all the time during halloween bc she wanted him to showcase his heritage

yahaba drinks a lot of milk because he hopes to one day grow strong and bulky like the 3rd years instead of being seen as a pretty boy

kindaichi's mom is a hairstylist and she always scolds him for using a lot of gel bc she's always the one who washes his hair

makki never learned how to do taxes and hes had the government knocking on his door a handful of times (BOKUTO AKKDJSKKS)

kyo has a dog: a chiweenie

there's someone on the team who wears those socks with individual pockets for toes

their pinterest is so different from what they look like for example, mattsun has a board of different flower decorations and arrangements

kunimi throws up during intense horror movies

watari's celeb crush is emma watson

the team alternates from different music genres like from ateez and bts to mxmtoon and beach bunny

they still dont know how to pronounce camila cabello's name

theyre all active in social media but only oikawa is on it 24/7 and in all platforms while the others have insta and snap

mattsun has twins as little siblings and he used to get them mixed up all the time that he used to draw a sharpie dot on the girl's forehead to determine she was his sister

watari hates sitting on the floor bc his butt bone hurts really easily so he can only sit on cushions for long periods of time

the team was supposed to have a party but everyone didnt know what to bring so they proved they shared the same braincell by bringing the same thing: a box of pizza

makki's an old soul and prefers to play records on a record player or watch old movies

kyo is surprisingly good at giving massages because he really pushed hard on those tense muscles

kindaichi knows how to crack necks so everyone goes to him a lot to do it (a friend of mine does this and can i say its terrifying yet so good?)

the only one who has a license is matsukawa and thats because granny needs to go to the doctor a lot and he hates her walking by herself and cabs are expensive

kyotani and yahaba are actually,,, lowkey close,,, not like best friends but theyre nice to each other and they got a stick and poke together (yahaba's was: :) while kyo's was: >:))

watari has a collection of mangas (some bl maybe 👀)

WARNING SAD: mattsun’s future job is a funeral person right? he ends up taking care of granny’s funeral free of charge and he had to take a week off because it was really painful for him

oikawa learned spanish SUPER fast to the point he forgets japanese sometimes but there are moments where he forgets both languages and hes just,,,, ???

makki’s unemployed yea but he rooms with mattsun in exchange of cooking because makki’s surprisingly good at cooking

iwa is practically the nutritionist of the team because he knows everything about proteins, carbs, iron, and needed vitamins so they all go to him to know what to eat and what they need

kunimi has lots and lots of shoes but usually only wears 2

kindaichi has a habit of pretending hes chewing gum even though he doesnt have gum, his mouth just chomps and moves with air akasldfjkf

there was a clown phenomenon in america but in their city, they had a mascots and seijoh 4 went around scaring kids :”(

oikawa never manspreads he gets too insecure to spread out like that akdjfkd

kyotani can easily sleep anywhere like he would be standing and just fall asleep or he sleeps with his eyes open

yahaba’s parents own a restaurant somewhere in the city and he works there sometimes

IM REALLY GOING TOO MUCH ABOUT THIS YALL AKSDJFKL

SORRY IM WRITING TOO MUCH I FEEL BAD THAT I HAVENT UPDATED BUT IM IN A CAR RIDE RN AND I WAS ABLE TO WRITE AGAIN AND MY EXAMS HAVE FINISHED THIS WEEK IMMA CRY

PLEASE, FEEL FREE TO REPLY WITH ANY OTHER HCS YOU GUYS KNOW OF SO I CAN PUT IT IN HERE AND CREDIT YOU WITH IT SO WE CAN HAVE LIKE A HCS BOOK FROM EVERYONE BUT THIS IS WHAT I STARTED WITH

oikawa screams a lot according to gigi but he’s actually a really quiet guy and not easy to scare

OKAY YOU GUYS DONT KILL ME I SWEAR IVE BEEN SO TERRIBLE AT WRITING BUT YOU KNOW WHO TURNED ONE TODAY? THIS PAGE!!! MY BABY IS ONE ALREADY 😭😭😭 ANYWAYS, HOPE THIS CAN MAKE YOU GUYS SMILE TODAY AND SCHOOL ENDS NEXT WEEK AND IM ALREADY AT 132 DRAFTS AMSJKSDKSK SO OH MY GOD THERES GOING TO BE SO MUCH COMING AND IM SO EXCITED TO GET THEM OUT 😩😩

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dropsofletters · 4 years

Text

countdown to the truth

title: countdown to the truth pairing: im changkyun/reader genre: fairytale!au/fake dating!au/1960’s!au summary: being part of an academy full of women shouldn’t be much of an issue—until she is the last woman over twenty to remain there, unmarried and with no plans on ever doing so. the problem comes to life for her when she’s threatened to be kicked out, so she does what anyone would do in that situation: talk to the stranger that hangs out in front of the academy and ask him to be her fake boyfriend. insanity would be the way to call this plan. type: fluff/angst/romance/humor word count: 22,842

Vanilla scented candles engulfed her senses, mixing with the incredibly sweet smell of pastries. In any other day, baking would have been a perfect distraction for what she calls ‘graduation season’, but with the amount of people in the kitchen, her anxiousness only grew exponentially. Fingers clammy, nose oversaturated with dulcet scents, and a mind filled with utter sentimentalism, and not the one that came with pride and relief, but with envy instead.

Perfection, it came after days of hard work and nights of insomnia, it was the jewelry everyone wished to have wrapped around their necks, glistening under the lights of the sky along with the stars. The academy taught her that excellence is the only goal for a woman, along with being desired enough to get married and have one of those love stories that lasted for a lifetime, written in books as a vision of the past, captured in pictures that would tear at the edges by the time their grandchildren saw the type of love they had to envy. Graduation time, of course, came after a woman turned twenty-one…with marriage, a man by her side, dresses that reached a little bit lower of what they would use when single and an immaculately crafted life.

She was only a child when she started going to that academy, the daughter of two prestigious politicians that would not even dare to touch a poor person’s hands without a set of gloves covering their fingertips, but now…the sixties arrived with new fashion trends and even more expectations for women. Dared to be called less of a woman for not finding a man that fit her, she spent most of her days at the academy—perfecting her baking technique, reading more books, preparing herself to become a teacher in the place that turned her into a talented individual, only to be denied every time she tried. Graduation time came earlier for other people, but for someone as difficult to love as her, it could possibly never happen.

If she had worked so hard to be the best version of herself, there shouldn’t be any less of an expectation for the person that she wants to love her back. The man by her side should be worth of her intelligence, of her low nights and her glowing mornings, of her shy smiles but the anxious moments, too. More than a vest to show to his friends, she wanted to be, but the only men she had gotten to know treated her as if she was another hole in their belts.

Whisking the mixture that Jiahn had prepared, she scrunches up her nose at the mere smell of the vanilla in the mix. It’s supposed to be a simple, nude cake, but the smell is horrendous. Measurements are important for her, numbers that mathematics would prove correct, dignified by cups and spoons, but it seems like people don’t live with such strict settings anymore. People rush through life, like a shooting star wishing to travel around the world, going from one point to another and forgetting that there was beauty in the slowest moments. Instead, a majority of the people in the academy live for the thrill, find a person that makes them feel loved once and that is enough; they stop trying at life, putting all the weight on fate.

Because destiny solves everything, they say in their love-cladded smiles. Destiny knows what the hell it is doing.

Unless her concept of destiny is broken, it is not like that. She is, at the very least, two steps away from being kicked out of her own home—the lady academy that had watched her grow into her little pair of high heels and her plaid dresses, only because she is considered worthless. What kind of dress should be worn without jewelry?

The necklace she needs is a man, the principal had told her. A man that demonstrated just how put together she is.

The glass bowl is pushed up to meet her nostrils, her nose flaring to smell the overly sweet substance. Not that Jiahn cares, really, clinging to the suit-covered man by her side as the two of them read over the newspaper. Her brown hair cascades down her back, braided in certain spots and clasped prettily by bows to push her bangs away, for Jiahn is the epitome of the type of woman this academy aims to create for those rich parents that don’t really want to raise their children. Elongated face, small nose and equally as small lips, Jiahn is a pretty doll that sits on the stool next to her perfect man. Kihyun, the nephew of two of the most outstanding actors in the entire country, a gold mine with his serious mannerisms that can only be bettered with his sweet smile. “How many spoonfuls of vanilla bean paste did you put into this, Ahn?” She questions, not even getting a glance from the couple. Jiahn’s arms are wrapped around Kihyun’s taut shoulders, her cheeks resting against the surface as she speaks.

“Four.”

“Four?!” She repeats, much louder than she intends and of course, life becomes a comedy in her darkest times. The knot on her throat, obviously created by the burning sensation of stress, only tightens at the way the couple looks at her as she rants. “Jiahn, now I have to make the mixture for your cake once again! This is inedible.”

Jiahn’s engagement party, the reason why everyone is going around the academy in hopes of preparing every single detail to outstanding flawlessness. Jiahn doesn’t look half as bothered, perhaps because she is finally getting out of the academy and with someone who loves her by her side, at that. Some people just think love is enough, and in her own head, it sounds impossible. There has to be more to life than just looking for a half. Books to read, stories to share, people to talk to, instruments to play, songs to sing and experiences to recall. “Hey, do not stress out—”

“I shouldn’t, really. You should be the one stressing out about this.” She says while tossing the bowl inside the kitchen sink, pressing the tips of her fingers to the inner corner of her eyes to relax. Very rarely does she get to hear her own voice in such a state, torn to the point sounding exhausted, but the constant pressure that comes with this time at the academy has her on edge, tipping in between the sand and the sea. “How could you have thought that four spoons of vanilla paste were going to taste nice on a cake?”

Jiahn shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I just…I was distracted, I guess.” Thick silence fills the air when she reaches down to throw out the entirety of the concoction to wash the bowl, but instead of using the water as a way of relaxing herself, it was a reminder of the work that she had put into the cake, only to have it ruined by someone else. “Damn, why are you so grumpy?”

“I am not.”

“You love baking. You normally would be singing to The Beatles by now, but you’re not doing that—”

“Because you ruined my cake, maybe?” She asks, the roughness of her voice only matching her stare when she looks at the couple over her shoulder. Kihyun glances at his fiancé, puckering up his lips before biting down on the skin, roaming his eyes everywhere but at the woman in front of them.

Kihyun clears his throat. “I don’t really like cake…”

“And if we’re talking about facts, it’s our cake.” Jiahn corrects her and she sighs deeply. The weight of her breath is supposed to make her feel better, as if the anger that coils deep within her lungs will fade into darkness, wishing upon having a smile on her face by the time the sun sets and she has to get ready for the engagement dinner. Instead, she feels even worse—not because she doesn’t have a man by her side, because that is the least of her worries, but because she would not be able to stay at the academy for long, much less as a teacher. The only plan her mind had conjoined for the entirety of her life is getting burned in the middle of the forest, taking everything away with it. Her happiness. Her goals. A little bit of her sanity, too. “Hey, what’s up with you?” Her friend’s voice is much softer, contrasting the sound of the stool that drags against the flooring when she moves over to pat her back.

Instead of putting up a front, like she had done for the past three days ever since she talked to the principal about her position as a teacher, she decides to let go. Perhaps, that is her future—finding a man that does the absolute minimum for her, sees her as a pair of legs to grab for when he is needy, a trophy wife that cooks for him throughout the day and clouds his mind in orgasms at the end of the night. A learner, instead of a teacher. “New students are going to come to the academy in about a month, and this is the season when older students get married and leave. So, I didn’t get the position as a teacher because I’m not qualified…” A brief pause settles her down on the floor, puts her to rest and then wakes her up in reality. Not with a gentle kiss to her inexperienced lips, but with a glass of cold water. “She said I need to be a married woman first, that I would be perfect if only…you know, if only I found a man. Same old problem. I’m going to be kicked out of here if I don’t get that spot.”

Tugging at the edge of her dress, she waits for Jiahn to say something but instead, she is met with brief silence. “Finding a man is the easiest part.”

She widens her eyes comically, picking up the white and red bag of flour only to place it neatly inside the necessary amount of cups. “I do not want to find a man.”

“That would be because…”

“Men only want one thing!” A repetition of exactly what she has seen, she claims. She remembers the early days in the academy, when she would walk down the hall with her teddy bear in between her fingertips, looking for the bathroom only to hear the older students talking. Heartbreaks, sex, love, it all came together into a big mess, just like a war of the heart and the mind, and with the fear of ever getting her heart broken, she promised herself to sought for a man that would never break her heart. “And I am not willing to have my heart broken by anyone.”

Kihyun clears his throat from his spot. “Not all men want what you’re thinking.”

“But a lot of them,” Jiahn clarifies before twirling her fingers on the few strands of hair that fell on her friend’s face as she bakes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride. Love is a joyful thing, and pleasure is also a good thing. As long as you don’t mix your future love status with some…experience, I don’t think it would be bad to meet people without the mindset that they are going to hurt you.”

The idea of being in the messy bedsheets of a motel, wearing her pretty floral dresses only to have them disregarded by any men, whispered sweet nothings roaming in her ears in the form of lies and someone kisses her in the form of a one-night stand makes her feel anxious. Not because it was wrong, because it worked for a lot of people, but the more she thought about it…the less she felt like love and affairs were for her. She needed to bask in conversation, to get to know someone to deeply that she felt them carved in her skin, to be loved with the intensity of the wind, not seen at all times, not spoken loudly in most occasions, but ever present. Steps, steps, steps, she believes in the dance of love, in the blossoming friendships and the sweet endings. In the fight, the thrill, the quietness after the storm and the beauty in it, and no one has been willing to give her that.

This world is all about rapidness, about marriage or relief, orgasms or titles. It is never about the ride.

Shaking her head, she gives Jiahn a small smile. “I know it worked for Kihyun and you, but I don’t think it will work for me.” Kihyun’s cheeks tint slightly at her words, although Jiahn seems unfazed. Two different personalities altogether, Kihyun coming from a strict household meanwhile Jiahn was the heartbreaker of the academy. “I don’t need a man. I just need to convince the principal.”

“The principal never considers women complete unless they get married.”

“Maybe,” She starts whisking harder, as if all her anger would be piled into a prettily decorated, tall, tasty and not overly sweet cake. “M-Maybe I could get her to change her mind. I’ve been an excellent member of our community for my entire life—”

“I doubt it.” Jiahn presses, clicking her tongue soon after. “But if nothing else works for getting that position as a teacher, just find yourself a man that is a little bit less intelligent than you, offer him something in return and have him as your fiancé for a night. No one has to know.”

“That’s the plot of a movie, Ahn.” Kihyun tries to complain, only to have his cheeks squished by his fiancé to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Shut up.” Jiahn whispers, their love exuding from their expressions before they smiled at one another. Instead, the moment is broken when she looks down at her mixture, realizing that it looks as perfect as she wanted it to be at the beginning. Some people were good at love, others were good at everything else. “So, consider it an option.”

She shakes her head, taking some of the batter in her index finger to taste it, licking the substance to be met by fluffy, soft and perfectly sweetened cake mix. “I doubt I will have to go that far. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to the principal.”

Destiny has never loved her, they are two people fighting for the same form of control, and destiny always wins. What a coincidence that destiny thinks the absolute opposite of what is going on inside her head.

⏰

A tap on her shoulder makes her look back, the brightness of the Sun closing her eyes partially as she tries to make out the figure of one of the students in the academy. The nine-year-old lady brings her fingers up in front of her body to talk to her, sign language their form of communication. Maybe, she just wants to teach something different from what she had learned in the plenty of years she had in the academy—concentrate more on numbers, philosophy, history, autonomy in the form of education, to create women that could fend for themselves; instead of just teaching how to sit straight and cross one leg over the other. Some students are not too fond of her, scrunching up their noses or giving her faux smiles whenever she talks a little bit too much about literature, a lover of books from the moment she understood one of them, but some of them are enchanted by the bites of knowledge she serves whenever she passes by a group of students, no matter their age.

“What about Zeus?” The little girl asks, unaware of the heat that surrounds them, or perhaps ignoring it, for she is far too concentrated in mythology. Her name is Lia, her short hair braided on each side of her face, shorter than most in her class.

Her legs open slightly to cage the rolled up pamphlets that she is trying to stick to the walls around the neighborhood, and she has barely started, the hotness of the morning mixing with the smell of cigarettes and at the early rendezvous of the Saturday morning, alcohol. “Zeus is the bad guy,” She points out with her fingers, then taking a moment to think what she is going to say next. “I told you, you should read the books, Lia.”

Mouthing a ‘no’ after her pout, Lia shakes her head. “I don’t understand the book you gave me, Miss.”

She chuckles, giving the duct-tape to Lia so she slices a part of him. Pamphlets mean that the new year in the academy is starting, welcoming elementary school girls of high standards in society just so they could become a perfect part of it, they say. This academy sold ‘immaculately prepared women’ to the public, only to come up with wives and the right-hands of plenty of men. They aren’t taught about their visions in life, to see themselves as the president of their own worlds, instead, they live the life of the person they love, trying to fix them, while forgetting to live for themselves. “We can read it later.” She indicates, unwrapping one of the pamphlets to press it against the wall of a very famous bakery in the same street as the academy. “But I have to put these up.” Soon after, she presses the paper to the wall, taking the bits of duct-tape Lia gives her to make it part of this boring and bland city.

Once they start walking, the two students exchange a glance. “I thought last year students aren’t meant to do this, Miss.”

Replying with hand motions, she chuckles at her words. “They shouldn’t.”

“So, why do you do it?”

“Because I want the principal to realize I am a good person, so I don’t get kicked out of the academy.” She tries to keep the explanation short, not wanting to bother anyone with her own issues, much less a child that probably wanted to hear about Achilles and Zeus, Poseidon once she discovers his existence. Her steps are quick against the concrete, damning the moment she decided to wear a dress so tight in the waist. The flowery pattern of the dress stiffens like a corset on the waist, gifted to her by the principal herself a year prior to that day, but all she wants is to slip the fabric away from her body in one swift motion, skin becoming one with the sheets of her bed before tucking a forkful of the cake she had baked three days ago inside her mouth. The leftovers were still delicious, and perfectly put in the amount of vanilla it had.

Lia claps to get her attention, making her frown as she halters her steps. One hell of a sweet girl, Lia is, but she is never one to be so fidgety—she is smiling on her spot, jumping the slightest on her step when she takes the oldest by the shoulders to make her see what she has to say. “A man is looking at you, behind you.” Excitedly, Lia narrates the story as if it was a fairytale, but the moment she looks over her shoulders, she is met with the complete opposite of a prince. Albeit gorgeous, his bangs are pushed away from his face by his own hands, although the strands fall on the same spot repeatedly, his hands are delicate, veiny, a little bit calloused thanks to his work as a house painter, the brush coating the white wall in yellow paint. She fears for his white tank top, clinging to his body in sweat, highlighting the swift marks of his abdomen and his tanned arms, but the paint could easily get on the fabric. His mouth remains half-open, breathing softly as he spares her a simple glance, eyes a form of seduction on itself. She can tell her tries too hard, by the way he makes a show out of painting now that he has her attention.

“He looks like a douchebag.” She replies, only to have the younger smiling.

“He looks like a prince.”

“What kind of books have you been reading, Lia?”

“The ones that you like, Miss.”

Carved in her soul has always been the immunity she possesses for men in suits, with charismatic smiles and perfectly spoken words. She has always wanted something raw, as natural as it can get, with laughter that merges into conversation, into late-night kisses and hushed goodbyes, with breakfasts shared in complete silence and love whispered in the form of open-mouthed touches of someone’s lips to her neck. Crave is what she does, for the intelligence of a man that knows how to get her interested, that sees her as more as a pair of lacy underwear under a conservative dress, more than a lady to show in the streets only to degrade her in the sheets. Friendship that blossoms into love, a worm that turns into a butterfly…

Is that so difficult to get nowadays? Less of a rush to get married, she needs and instead, she wishes for a partner that pushes her to be her own individual before becoming the same heart.

It shows in her taste in books, perhaps, she likes the figurative, metaphorical, abstract romances, not so much of the ones that people talk about in the academy. However, this is not something she accepts, shaking her head and taking another pamphlet when she decides that the heat is far too unbearable, a trail of sweat running down her spine at the uncomfortable weather.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the baker, who screams at the top of his lungs a big: “Hey!” Once she turns around, she is met by the chubby, mustache-sporting baker that everyone knows about. His boisterous laugh almost wakes everyone up early in the morning, but his pastries and bread make up for any disturbance.

Nonetheless, she thinks the man is talking to her, turning around and opening her mouth to as what happened. “I—”

“Changkyun!” He screams a name louder, interrupting her softer tone. Much to her surprise, douchebag with the mouth breathing technique turns around, running his fingers through his hair to push the strands away. His legs are long, she notices then, cladded in a pair of jeans that fit him somewhat presentably, reaching high on his waist. His eyes look for the woman once again, making her flush in the way the sun casts down on his tanned complexion, his chocolate-fountain eyes that drown her in just one glance, attraction in the form that Jiahn has always talked about. In her words, Jiahn would describe this man as ‘the one who ruins you, and you thank him for it, because no man will ever compare to the way he made you feel with just one night’. Not that she would ever be able to do such thing with someone, much less with someone like this Changkyun guy. “Your dog is trying to eat my croissants, come pick him up!”

Changkyun’s alluring act falls immediately, his eyes widening as he looks at both sides of the street to rush towards the bakery, trotting to the entrance of the place. “I-I am so sorry!”

But the baker laughs, loud and clear, enough to bring a smile to her face because of the mortified expression on Changkyun’s face. The idiot now has another description inside her head: clumsy.

⏰

Words turned bitter for her; gone were the days of praise, the achievements that would be highlighted by excellence, the friends that lingered around her whilst promising a lifetime of memories. Some of them are married, graduated years ago and are now living their happily-ever-after’s with some businessman near the most expensive part of the city. Some are holding their babies, those she doesn’t envy so much, they wake up to the sound of screaming—and she thinks it could come from either their husband or their child, because women like the ones in the academy are taught that men are gods of renewal, seeking purity and slavery both at the same time. Others, like her friend Daum, had the opportunity to find love in the same place she grew up in, and she was one of the culprits that helped her run away with another woman. Something that the principal deemed as impossible.

“You really are a rotten one, huh?” The principal is talking to her, but she concentrates anywhere else. The pictures the woman shows of her dead husband by the walls, all in black and white, carrying the five women that she raised with him in some of them. Her place is immaculate, too sweet for her taste, smelling like coconut and vanilla at the same time, drowned in the perfection that she is asked for every of her actions. Spotless, conceptualized, written; everyone’s future in that academy could be described by those three words, but she is the exception. “Look at me.” The strong tone that accompanies the principal’s voice startles her the slightest, dragging her gaze to the piercing eyes in front of her. “Every bird leaves the nest. Every single one. Not only did you help two birds leave the nest together, as a couple, but you also ask me to stay after that—”

Daum had left earlier that morning, with her love shown in the slits of her fingers that connected to another graduate. Love, for them, was always there and she is not anyone to stop a person from feeling something so strong. “If they wanted to leave, they had to leave.”

“You’re not helping your case here,” The principal explains. “Daum’s parents called me. They are petrified by the situation, because I, apparently, was unable to take care of two women over their twenties, and Daum hasn’t talked a word to their parents—”

“I didn’t know that, Principal.”

“You claim to know everything, to be knowledgeable enough to be a teacher and you make humongous mistakes like this.” Her tongue wets the roof of her mouth, breathing out through her nose. Her words prick, like a thorn that holds on to the sight of a rose, and she is there to see it all. This side of the principal is not the same one everyone else gets to see; the calm smile, the witty remarks, the wisdom-filled eyes that everyone wants to imitate. This is the type of people feared in the world, dictators that turned their followers into a carbon copy of what they think, that dress them in ignorance to lounge in knowledge. A power battle; the weak versus the strong, and she has always been weak in the principal’s eyes. “But you don’t know more than a few words in a textbook. I can’t have someone as open minded and weak as you as a teacher, I just can’t.” Instead of battling for her rights, she bites on the inside of her cheeks, watches as the woman takes a long gulp of her coffee. “You are not going to stay in this academy as your home, I am so sorry. Your parents should have enough money to find you an apartment somewhere. A house, even.”

But the academy is her home, with its students that always greet her, with the library that she loves visiting and the kitchen that she feels like belongs to her. How could she simply leave home like that? She doesn’t think she remembers much of her past house, how it looked like and why it was supposed to feel candid and warm. If anything, it has been years since the last time she went back home. “B—But…Miss, I could stay here and really, I’ve prepared myself to teach literature perfectly. I swear—”

“No.” The Principal clicks her pen, opening a folder that read Daum’s name and information, along with some pictures as she grew up through the educational standards of the academy, just like a school. “I give you one month to leave. Find a man and I’ll consider having you teach the students,” She easily states. “Do not find a man, and you’ll leave without any job of any kind. Call your parents for money, if you don’t want to live off a man.”

Living off a man, what a distasteful title. “Please, don’t say that.”

The Principal rolls her eyes, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose before sighing. “Leave my office, please.” She says, looking up at the woman briefly before scribbling a big ‘X’ on the folder beneath her. “Do not come in here until you have either your engagement ring or your bags to leave. One month, after that I’ll call the police, and you don’t want to ruin your parents’ little legacy.”

Swallowing all the tears she wishes to drop, she bows before giving the same affirmative answer that she has been taught to give. Once outside of the office, the heat of the wind makes her feel uneasy, as if she is trapped in a box and is unable to leave, her lungs contract, her tongue itches, her fingers can’t stop moving, won’t stop moving even if she asks them to, her knees are wobbling with such intensity that they could look like she is losing all sense of sanity, dancing along to the problematic tune of reality. She thinks she sees Kihyun when she walks towards the kitchen, standing by the door as he waves at her, a smile on his face after giving a kiss to the woman he loves, but she feels envious. Not because she can’t have someone to love, for that is the least of her worries, but because she is being obligated to love someone just to be worthy.

Validation, that is what she needs and exactly what she thought she would get by showing her talents, her knowledge, the hours of hard work she put into books and reviews, only to be met by silence. Deafening, really, to the point one glass of water down her throat makes her feel like she is about to throw up. The idea of going back to her parents’ sounds terrible, another anarchy to have her dressed up in even tighter dresses to introduce herself to a world of money, such as politics, to be a robber amongst well-spoken manipulators. If she ends up in the streets, she doesn’t know what would happen—in that case, she would ask Kihyun and Jiahn for help, for in only two weeks they are going to get married, but in their new home, it would be difficult to have Jiahn’s friend over. Marriage is a matter of two people, not three.

She could find a job, that’s not the worst thing. Maybe, she could start working at the bakery at the end of the street, hope to save some money and perhaps, come up with a plan that was not given by the principal.

Two plans, that’s exactly what she needs.

Plan One: To find a job at the bakery, keep it as secret as possible and save up some money. That way, if she ends up being kicked out of the academy, she would have a kick-starter for an apartment of sorts, all on her own.

Plan Two: Or as she likes to call it, Jiahn’s plan. To look for a man that would be willing to act up as her husband, fiancé or at the very least, her boyfriend and see if she can get a position as a teacher. The academy needs more women of assertiveness, power held in strong voices.

Wielding herself with tears, she pushes the strands of her hair away from her face when she fights back the salty liquid to run down her cheeks, creating a path of hurt, pain, memories and conviction. The principle of being a woman goes past skirts, being born as one or simply loving a man, but the sixties were far too enclosed in their own opinions, afraid of the strength a new wave of people could bring to the world—people who were already there, but are now tired of such treatment.

Her hands rub at her face, not caring that her makeup smudges at the action—she can’t bring herself to be a lady, when people have torn her apart for it. The tears become one with her skin, dissipating in the thick air with such easiness, so much she wonders if this is what she is bound to feel, like her life is falling apart, not even rotating, not even moving, and if it moves, it is way too fast.

Fast, it moves, when she looks up thanks to the sound of barking. There, she sees the dupe of a Dalmatian, instead of black dots, the dog wears beautifully beige spots on his skin, jumping on his spot as he takes the brush from Changkyun’s hands.

Right, the house painter.

She saw him two days ago, and she had to see Lia talking about him nonstop, moving her hands so widely she thought they were going to fall. Lia says he is a prince, with that paint-cladded tank top he wears and that overly confident personality that is as wronged as faux fur, for it doesn’t fit him, neither is it cute. Also, he is an incredible slow worker—or maybe, the new house that is being built is just too big for just one person and his dog, who keeps wiggling his tail in excitement even though Changkyun is hissing at him.

But no, that can’t be the only men in the world. She has to think about the good men that she has met in her life, even if they seem to be nonexistent.

The feeling of a pencil in between her fingers, as well as glue, brings her back to the crafting days on her first day of elementary school—before she was ever introduced to the academy. Once she is brought back to that memory, she swears she feels the fingers of someone tugging at her hair, presumably at her braids, but she isn’t wearing braids at that moment. Then, she remembers the smile she used to see whenever she turned around in those days, being met by a guy who didn’t even know how to pronounce his name, but the kid was cute. Min-Guk, is how he introduced himself as, but his name is actually Minhyuk. He was nice, probably a bit out of his head, but dreamy to her young eyes. Too much of a prince and probably married. Pass.

The guy who sells milk every Monday at the street, always wearing that tacky white uniform and trying to get women to talk to him, only to be shushed away because he is not a potential man to date. There is no charisma, no romance, no elegance, no intelligence…just milk, really. She embarks in conversation with him every once in a while, interested in getting to know the farm that he frequents for his milk and how the industry works, but he is over forty…and really not her type. Maybe, if he was younger, she likes that awkward vibe on men that try a little bit too hard, but he is much too old for her.

Kihyun is getting married to her friend, so he is obviously out of the picture.

“Bruno!” Changkyun screams at the top of his lungs, running behind the dog as if to get the brush. That is probably what he is trying to do, really, but she can’t tell anymore.

It’s like life is telling her to go there.

After using a napkin to rub her tears away, checking on the mirror that her makeup is not that smudged—not that it’s there anymore—, she decides to go out of the academy. Some of the younger students are having a class outside, something that she can’t care about as she trails her eyes towards the good looking Changkyun, a house painter…sure, not the most outstanding of careers, but it is somewhat interesting the way he manages himself, running behind a dog and all. The house is incredibly pretty, as well, and she knows the owners; a family of six that are expecting to grow even more, so it is no wonder the space is so big.

Once she gets to the front yard of the house, she hears Changkyun complaining about something to his dog, who simply sticks his tongue out in excitement, thinking it is time to play with his owner. “What are you doing?”

The muscles on his shoulders tighten at a frenzy, looking back to spare her a glance before his features soften. One of his eyebrows quirk up when he takes the drool-covered brush on his hands, a small smile playing on his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, actually.”

Changkyun seems surprised by her answer, opening his mouth to say something before cutting himself off. He repeats this action repeatedly, sporting a shy smile soon after. “Painting. Duh.” He claims, going closer to the wall he was painting before his dog’s interruption. Bruno, she thinks its name is. “Don’t they teach you how to paint in your pretty doll house?”

She chuckles at his words, pointing with her thumb towards her home. “The academy, you mean?” The house painter gets to work once again, dipping the brush on the paint before sliding it across the wall. “They do. Really, we are not a dollhouse of any sorts.” She thinks of her words, biting down any type of opinion she should have, but…this is Changkyun, a man that she wouldn’t even imagine with a dressy, black suit on. “Some…Some of our students think it is, but I am not like that.”

The painter hums at her words, his tanned cheeks receiving a rose-gold color. She likes to think it’s because of her, but maybe it’s the Sun doing its wonders. “I would like to see that.” Changkyun comments, more likely talking about seeing her paint, but when he moves his hand to indicate his point further, his brush paints over her pretty baby blue dress, leaving a terrible white imprint. “Oh shit, I am so, so sorry!” His apologies fall quickly, just like how he unwraps a towel from around his neck to dab it on the material. Mind him, this is the same towel that he uses to wash his sweat and technically, it shouldn’t even reach her dress, but there he is, kneeling down in front of her as he rubs the material against the dress.

“Don’t be, really.” But she is speaking through gritted teeth. It is definitely going to be a headache to get that stain out.

This is not what her prince charming should be like, rubbing on her dress as if it is a table that has a coffee stain. “God, this dress is probably worth more than my salary. Geez…” Changkyun is talking to himself, looking up at her eyes while haltering his motions, only to give her a crooked smile. This is the enchanting part of him, the aftermath of his try-hard attempts, valuable and charismatic for his sweeter side, the one that he probably doesn’t show to a lot of people.

She laughs at his words. “It is.”

“I’ll pay for it! Just…give me time, okay?”

“No, no.” She tells him, taking the cloth from his hands and sniffing at the smell. God, what exactly is her concept of a prince charming?! The smell is horrid, quite clearly. She gives it back to him, right after taking him by the wrists to bring him up to his feet, which he does slowly, while still looking into her eyes. “I—This is not what I expected when I came here, but I’ll take it. It’s just a dress, just don’t rub it with your sweaty towel, please.”

Changkyun puts his towel around his neck once again before dumbly grinning. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ll just have to pay it in another way.”

“What do you me—?”

“Miss!” Someone squeals from the academy and the two people conversing turn to look at the fourteen-year-old girl that waves to call for the attention of one of the older members of the academy. “Could you help me out with my homework, please?!” If the principal heard her speak like that, that student would be expelled immediately, if not scolded, but instead of waiting until that happened, she starts moving towards the academy quickly.

“Sure, sweet pea!” She tells the young girl, who smiles at either the nickname or the help, but once she is on the other side of the street, her eyes look for Changkyun, only to be met by the man who stares at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She squints her eyes, her hands reaching to fix the bow on her head before mouthing a small:

“We’ll talk later.”

And she really means it, because Changkyun is her last option.

⏰

“Tick, tock, darlin’.” The principal told her in her friend’s wedding, basically mocking her bridesmaid dress from the moment she put it on. Her expression was readable, all series of distaste and a sense of fortune in winning that never escapes her. The principal pointed at the clock that rested in the form of a necklace in her cleavage, showing her nothing but the exact time. “Two weeks until I kick you out of my academy. If Jiahn did it, so can you.”

That’s when it hit her. She had lost two entire weeks of her second plan, all for concentrating on the first one.

The good part of it all is that she gets to bake at a good spot, surrounded by flowers…from daisies to roses, all settled in her line of sight as she works with pastries. The mornings are the busiest, when her boss immediately makes her work the fastest she can. He needs the breads to be baked to its fullest potential, not too crunchy and not too soft, a good bite able to be a good companion for any moment of the day, whether it was the early hours of it or the late ones. The baker also told her to call him by his name, so more often than not, she shyly asks for his help when it gets to be too much. She shortens it, though, going for a brief ‘Woo’ whenever she needs him the most, and the man with the funny mustache answers immediately, sometimes calling her the sweetest names because she supposedly reminds him of his daughter, pure yet strong.

Whilst reading on the morning paper, her apron neatly tied around her neck, she likes to concentrate on the literature section, seeing what books are going to come next in the market, making sure to highlight the ones that interest her the most. Two in the afternoon, a time where the bakery is rarely visited and it is at this moment that Woo puts his music on loudly, making sure to dust off anything that surrounds the tables that his costumers used previously. He dances happily, humming to the tune in a way that calms her down. The Principal is whom she has always lived with, so seeing a man that is the complete opposite of what that woman is…feels like heaven.

“So I heard,” Woo initiates after turning off his music, his elbows resting atop the counter with his hard breathing interrupting his words. “Changkyun and his dog are leaving today. The house is almost finished, he is simply painting the insides and making sure everything is tidy and ready to go.”

She widens her eyes at that, be forgotten the new book that she is reading about, her lips parting at the reminder that her second plan includes him, and finding another man in less than two weeks is going to be a headache, much more with an eventful dinner being planned by the Principal as a way of celebrating the recent marriages and engagements. “W-Why? How? That house is huge!”

“Changkyun is a nice kid. I know his father, so if he is as equally as hardworking as him, then he is good.” The man seems unfazed by what he is saying, but she is interested beyond what she can explain. Something keeps pushing her towards Changkyun, call it idiocy for being so stubborn on being a teacher, or she is actually as attracted to him as she pretends not to be. “It’s weird, though.”

“What is?”

“Changkyun’s family is very educated, very studious. I am not sure why he is a house painter…”

She pushes the newspaper towards the edge of the counter, shrugging her shoulders at his statement. “The majority of us young people don’t become what our parents were or are.” She indicates, knowing well that Woo wouldn’t understand. The bakery is a family business, one well-earned at that, cozy and the most beautiful spot to spend some time in daily. A fresh reminder that things are going to be okay. “I have my lunch break right now, right?”

“You spent ten minutes of it reading that newspaper, but yes.” The baker points out, taking the newspaper in between his fingers and jokingly swatting it against her arm. “Stop reading studious stuff and go eat something. You worked hard.”

She licks her lips, looking through the pastries displayed through the glass before picking out two brownies, coated in the juicy texture of white chocolate syrup. Woo taught her his precise recipe, saying there is nothing better than what he adds, and indeed, the secret to the recipe gives it a bit of spice, perfect to wake sleepy students up. “I’ll pay for the extra one,” She indicates, pushing another one into a paper bag before sending a wave to Woo in the form of fluttery fingers. “I’ll see you in a bit, Woo.”

“Have fun with your boy!”

She shouldn’t be running on the streets and if any of the teachers in the academy see her, they will swat her hand with a ruler, telling her that a lady never rushes. Nonetheless, she wants to make sure Changkyun is still there, not that she gets a nice response at first, given that the entrance of the house is completely empty. The door is open though, widely so, and it smells like paint, a kick-starter of the fact that Changkyun might still be there. Her fingers clutch the paper bag, creating ugly folds on it, perhaps crushing the brownies, but she can’t bring herself to care, too reckless and desperate to even care about what she is going to ask to this stranger. Supposedly a nice guy, in Woo’s words.

Peaking her head inside, she doesn’t see anyone at first glance, until one wobbly step on the wood flooring makes a creaking sound and Bruno starts barking, quite loudly. Panic settles deep within her, much more when she hears human steps following after the dog, clear and fast, an indication of running. Changkyun goes down the stairs rapidly, only stopping when he catches a glance at the woman by the door, and even so, he doesn’t have the time to put on his ‘cool’ front.

“Uh, hi?” Changkyun asks casually, going the last row of stairs before patting Bruno’s fur with his hand. “I…Hi.”

“Hello,” She adds in between a sweet smile, holding the paper bag up for him to see. “I brought you some brownies so we could eat together.”

The man is even more confused by that statement, his eyebrows furrowing as he pushes his hair back. He is less sweaty, thankfully, but his skin is still painted in those red blotches caused by the heat. “Cool, but…why?” He tilts his head to the side, coming closer to get the bag from her hands and look inside it. Once he sees the brownies, she thinks she can see him licking his bottom lip, but maybe that’s just her mind speaking. After all, it is creepy to just come up to someone and offer him brownies, when all she has done is serve him meals at the bakery for the past two weeks, saying greetings and then, some brief goodbyes.

“Woo told me that you’re going to stop working here today.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Okay, you’re not making it easy on me.” She replies quickly, looking back to see if anyone is checking up on her from the academy, but everyone is on class right at that moment. The soft touch of the wind makes her sigh deeply, getting closer to Changkyun so their conversation falls in between their ears. “I need a favor from you.” After crossing her arms over her chest, she drops the bomb on him. Changkyun raises his eyebrows, his lips parting momentarily before one of his eyes closes at the touch of his bangs against it.

“Mhm, the one thing you told me I had to pay you with when I ruined your dress.” Changkyun questions, more so indicates, and she nods her head at his understanding. The man doesn’t seem to be faced by the statement, instead pointing to the edge of the stairs. “We can sit there and talk,” He starts and she lets her eyes trail towards the wooden material. “Sorry if it’s not a throne, Queen, but this is all I have here.” She chuckles at his sarcasm, taking a seat beside him. The sound of the paper bag being torn apart slightly to create two surfaces for the brownies is all she hears, watching as Changkyun carefully puts her brownie with a napkin and the paper bag underneath it on her lap.

“I am not some rich girl that is scared of sitting on a staircase.”

“Not that, though I do know you’re the child of politicians and very rich, too.” The intelligence that Changkyun possesses would not be expected from a house painter, but it is clear in the way he speaks. “But you’re in that academy. All girls that come out from that academy think they can only talk to rich people, and that’s true.”

“Questionable, but I see where you’re coming from.” She replies, slicing a bit of the brownie with her fingers to plop it inside her mouth, even though Changkyun is already delving on his treat. “I see you dislike the academy.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Education is important, but not when you teach…how to be a lady.” He spits the statement out as if it is a joke, and sometimes she thinks it sounds like it. “That’s bullshit.” Soon after, he laughs at what he says. “But you probably can’t say that word because ladies don’t curse or some shit like that. Nonsense, really.”

“I can say it.”

“Then, say it. Say something like shit, ass, asshole…”

“Shit?” She adds the word in the form of a question and Changkyun’s head immediately throws back at the sound of her voice, merely having a fun time by making fun of her.

“Thank you for the food, goody-two-shoes.” The man comments and soon after, she bites down on her bottom lip. The closeness between the two makes her feel warmer than ever, their knees touching ever so slightly, the type of intimacy that people often ignore, but it is felt nonetheless. Changkyun is much more good looking than people give him the benefit of, most of the time judged as some simple house painter. “What’s that favor that you want to ask me for?”

The moment of truth falls on top of her and with a shaky breath, she decides to be brave. The worst can already happen, and that is being kicked out of the academy—or her opportunity to be a teacher to be dismissed, exactly. “I want you to act.”

“Act?” He asks, pointing to his chest before scoffing. “Oh, baby, I’d do anything to get your attention, but I am no Tatsuya Nakadai.”

At the name of the actor, she scrunches up her nose. “Not even a tiny bit of a good actor?”

“I could try…” Changkyun trails his voice before nudging her side slightly. “For what kind of movie, though?”

At the sight on his face, she immediately catches why the smirk on his face is so prominent and she shakes her head quickly. “Not that!” The squeal that leaves her brings laughter to rumble on Changkyun’s chest once again, joyful of being there with her. “It’s actually…” Now that she is thinking about her idea, it sounds ridiculous. It damn right feels like she is out of her head, jumping on the oh-so-called field of happiness that her druggie friends have talked about once or twice, perhaps it is not that, but craziness itself. “Listen, I need a man to fake date me. And before you say anything, I really want to work as a teacher in my academy, but I won’t be accepted unless I show that I am capable of getting a man.”

Changkyun frowns at that and the open mindedness of him surprises her, because most men would have run away at the mere sound of the opportunity, unless given something else, but he is there, munching on his brownies before sighing. “You’re not capable of getting a man?”

“I-It’s not that—”

“Then, why can’t you get a man?”

“All the men I know are trashy…” She admits, pushing her head back to keep her hair away from her face. Now, she pushes more food to her mouth so she shuts up, but she doesn’t. With Changkyun, with Woo, with other people that are not part of the academy, she feels like she can speak without judgement. “With their suits and their wife concepts. I hate to have to deal with men that expect me to be something. I don’t want to have the expectations of wearing corsets and cooking for him, and stroking his ego just because I have to. That’s not me.”

The man pushes out a breath, in a sigh or in a huff, something along those lines. She doesn’t look at him, too afraid of the bowl of reality he is going to serve her immediately. “Because that is the type of men people like you are bound to meet. Rich, stupid guys who think they are better than everyone else.” His back rolls slightly, cracking a few articulations before he speaks up once again. “For how long do you need the fake boyfriend?”

At his remark, she lifts up her gaze. Something within her bursts, excitement or relief, maybe even fear. This is a complete stranger she is going to introduce as her boyfriend, after all. Insanity could never compare. “For…okay, for forever?”

“Oh…God…” Changkyun indicates before rubbing the back of his neck. “Do I have to go there or is it just using my name?”

“Go there.”

“No. Hell no.” The house painter stands up to his feet, pushing his piece of the paper bag to a trashcan nearby. “What do you want me to be? One of those preppy, stuck-up boys that go to your academy to meet girls? That’s not me. Why are you talking to me, anyway? You have a whole town of those at the center of the city. From anywhere around the world, you just have to look for them.”

For a moment, she ponders on leaving him alone, until the stubbornness clings to her once again. “Because…you’re the only man I know I…see as the type of man I would marry.”

“Marry?”

“You’d act as my fiancé, of course.”

“Okay, you’re drunk. You had your first try of alcohol and that is why you’re acting like this—”

Pushing herself off the stairs, she walks over to him before shaking her head. “No! Do I smell like alcohol to you?” That’s another thing she has tried. In the academy, women did things behind the principal’s back, drinking, smoking, hooking up, trying new things out, but she had never been like that. For the first time, she is doing something against the rules. “And it’s just for one night. I can just say we got married but that we live separately. Or that you broke the engagement or something. It’s just for one night.”

“One night of fake dating me?”

She presses her hands to Changkyun’s mouth after finishing her brownie, his soft lips dragging across her skin absentmindedly when she shushes him. “Don’t speak so loudly. People may hear you!”

Taking his hands in hers, he pulls her closer by the wrists before sighing. “Okay, goody-two-shoes. I’ll help you just because I know that dress was expensive shit and because I hope to get more good brownies like those for free.”

Batting her eyelashes out of complete surprise, she steps away slightly as a smile creeps up her face slowly. Changkyun rolls his eyes, for he is a man of honesty and down-to-earth matters, he doesn’t believe in a lot of the things she has grown to trust in, but blind is anyone that couldn’t tell these two are attracted to one another. “Thank you so much!” The happiness in her voice is clear, clasping her hands together before she feels Bruno walking in between her legs to stand in between the commotion. “I love your dog, but your dog can’t go to the dinner we’re supposed to be going to, okay?”

“I plead for some leftovers for Bruno.”

“I’ll cook him an entire meal if that’s what you want.”

Reaching down to grasp Bruno’s paw in between his fingers, he smiles. “We’re getting meals, Bruno. We’ve made it.”

A sense of calmness leaves her, one that she thought she had until she realizes Changkyun is not the type of man people in the academy would accept. A house painter, not cladded in suits the majority of the time—if every, really—and just a little bit inappropriate with his wording.

Good things never come without some hard work, she supposes.

“I’ll leave now, okay? Pass by the bakery tomorrow and we can talk about what we’re going to do. Eight on the dot.”

Changkyun looks up at her, standing up so quickly he loses his balance before humming. “Yes. Honey, bunny, apple of my eye, left butt-cheek to my right butt-cheek, precious being—”

While she walks towards the door, she shakes her head. “Baby was alright, the rest…is not what I want.”

“Okay, kitty cat.”

“No!”

This isn’t really going to be easy.

⏰

“I am engaged.”

“What?!”

The stages of disbelief show through people’s faces, as readable as a popular fiction book, and she learned about them after confirming—in different times to different people—that she is going to “get married”. First is the audible response, normally followed by a tilted head, something as simple as a noise that slips past that person’s lips, wanting to hear what has already been told into the universe, looking for some form of doubt. Following is the silent response, a blink, a quirk of their eyebrows, a smile, a frown, all placements of this stage, equally as nerve-wrecking as the other. Finally, there is denial and she has to fight this one, completing her set of lies with another group of them just to make it believable.

The only one who knows the truth, and only because she was unable to make him believe her, was Woo. According to his precise knowledge of being an old man, father of someone who acts exactly like her, one can just tell that she is lying—the situation has moved on far too quickly for her liking, too forced, and that is not like her. Changkyun, although very handsome and charming if you squint, is not the type of person to change that, if anything, he’d just shrug his shoulders at her manners, thinking that people are the way they are because that’s how life asks them to be. She doesn’t find it in her to burn his allegations with facts, indicating that for the past three days, Changkyun has been going to the bakery before going over to his next job, not even near her workplace to start with, always slipping food in his mouth as she speaks, partly about the plan and also about his health. Sweets are just not the go-to breakfast.

Changkyun doesn’t listen, saying he is stronger than diabetes, and he goes off once again, away from her whilst promising her that Thursday is the day they meet at his apartment to practice their act of a couple at the dinner they shall attend.

Getting out of the academy late at night with a suitcase hanging from her arm is already difficult on its own, with the teachers sparing her glances while she laughs nervously. Before anyone could ask her anything, she springs out of the door and into the crisp air of the night, thanking her tights for keeping her legs warm, but wishing she could wear a pair of pants that could keep her warm at such a time. The night is eventful, dark and with a gorgeous sight of the moon, yellow and near enough it feels like she could grasp it within her fingertips, holding it as a beautiful memory of difficult times.

Someone calls for her name, the tone deep and somewhat hushed, for she told him to wait for her by the bakery and not to make a lot of noise, considering the people at the academy could be listening. She rushes towards him, almost falling on her steps if it wasn’t for Changkyun’s arms extending on each side of her body, eyes wide as he speaks:

“Be careful,” He tells her, looking at their surroundings to make sure no one is seeing them. For a moment, she thinks that Lia is right: Changkyun is the new version of a prince. Oversized striped shirt tucked underneath a pair of pants, belt making sure that it keeps in place, his hair is parted slightly and he does not dare to sleek it back like most men of his generation do, but his face under the gleaming lights of the stars is a sight to never forget. “If falling on these streets is easy, imagine how easy it is falling for me.” Changkyun adds, silent meeting his statement as she lifts her gaze to look into his eyes. “No?”

“Not even one bit. I didn’t like it.” She continues, a smile blossoming on her face when she wraps her arm around his, turning him around so they are facing away from the academy. “Take me to your palace, poor excuse of a prince.”

“…Excuse of a prince,” Changkyun scoffs, as if it is ridiculous of her to speak in such a way. His eyes cast down on her as they walk the streets towards his home, peace of mind and soul in the form of awkward, softly spoken conversations. “Princes wish they were as cool as me.”

His apartment is unexpectedly cozy for such a secluded, small place. The white walls remain intact, clear as the day they were painted, highlighting some pictures he taped to the surface—some of them places he says he wants to go to, others pictures of his friends, some with his family. A shoebox would be more of a comparison, where his apartment starts, it also ends, a small kitchen at the corner of the room, separated by doors that led to their respective spots. He apologizes for the mess over his table, the lack of living room not a problem for her as she watches Changkyun diligently cleaning up such a big part of his life. What a person reads is what makes them, and she sees that Changkyun is always looking for a second, third or even fourth job, using a red pen to encircle whatever catches his attention, what he thinks he is capable of doing. In the table, she sees cut-outs of coupons, all in things he wouldn’t even need—but hey, if he found them, it’s for a reason.

Dragging the seat across from him, Changkyun starts talking about the absurdities of life while brewing some hot chocolate. His back is turned to her, delicate and broad, the two slices of reality she liked in a man’s physique, to bring her both edges of a well-rounded person. His fingers are what catch her attention, skinny and average sized, though they move with chillness, all worries thrown into the Sun the moment the night arrives. His voice lowers when he wants to impress her, she notices, handling himself well when he rants about how his family consists of university professors, medals and diplomas surrounding his house and while he doesn’t live up to that, he’s proud of where he comes from.

“And why didn’t you study in university?” She asks, watching as Changkyun turns around to lean his hands on his small counter, crossing one leg over the other and she gulps on the small bit of saliva she has inside her mouth, gone dry long ago at the mere sight of him. Her words could shush him as a man of the rest, but she hasn’t actually looked at someone that had made her feel like she craves for his touch, or his validation in one way or another. The desire to have him projecting the same interest in her aches within her, hanging on to the small threads of curiosity he had shown before.

“There’s plenty of that already…at least, in my family. Not that it makes education any less important but,” Changkyun stops a moment on his words, hissing at what he is trying to say before moving his hands slightly. Legs as long as a highway, enticing her at just a glance, wondering how someone like him as such poise in his way of standing. Hands that she wishes to have on her, caressing a few strands away from her hair, holding her hand, even hugging her as tightly as he wants, for the days in which she feels lonely, which are not many, in her opinion. And now, a serious expression that can’t take away from her mind, for Changkyun is ever serious. “I want easy money, that’s one thing.” The confession makes her chuckle, watching as a smile takes over his face again just in time for him to hide it by turning around, picking up two mugs and filling them with hot chocolate and marshmallows. “But painting is fun. Really, people think most of us house painters only do the job to check girls out on the streets and just scratch our asses, but I see past that.” Thick is the smell of chocolate and damn her for even believing Changkyun was not capable of making a tasty hot chocolate, for a piece of calmness is brought to her in the shape of another sweet treat, all courtesy of the not-so-sweet guy she is fake dating, by now. “I’m not a good painter, like I can’t draw for the life of me…”

“Uh huh.” She urges for him to continue, taking the small spoon Changkyun gives her before swirling the contents of the hot chocolate around.

“So when I told my mom she was like: “Changkyun, are you fucking out of your mind?! That was Picasso that was actually good, not you!”.” Imitation is the worst kind of compliment, she believes, and the faux high voice Changkyun uses to portray his mother has her laughing at how bad it is. “I decided house painter would pay the bills, and I would get to be somewhat of an artist without having to live with the criticism of being bad.” Before sitting down, the man stands up quickly, his eyes widening comically. “Let me get Bruno out of my room because he’ll start crying if he hears us talk and he’s not here.”

“They let you have Bruno here?”

“Yes,” Changkyun sarcastically adds as he opens the door, the white dog sprinting towards her to rest his paws on her legs. Her fingers hold on his ears, playing with them slightly but her entire concentration is on Changkyun. Some smiles are able to heal any type of pain, and the anxiousness she felt when deciding to go out at night with her fake boyfriend was unbearable, the ache on her eyes a clear indicator of her lack of sleep, along with the redness that reaches the inner corner of it. He makes her feel better, however, much more when he takes his seat in front of her, legs intertwining with hers thanks to the small table. “As long as they don’t know Bruno is not actually a dude. That’s why I named him after a person, I wanted my landlord to think Bruno is human.”

Whilst blowing on the cup of coffee, she decides to speak up. “Your secret is safe with me.” Though Changkyun doesn’t answer with anything more than a wince after burning his own tongue, sticking it out to let the air soothe the throbbing discomfort. “Be careful with that. You have to know some table manners, Changkyun.”

“I know ‘em.”

“Then, why don’t you use them? You just burnt your tongue—”

“Because I wanted hot chocolate.” The man whines, making her roll her eyes as she takes a small sip of the drink, only to click her tongue against the roof of her mouth thanks to the burning sensation. “See? Manners or not, heat exists!”

“Stop.”

Her movements seek to fix her legs, not wanting to be impossibly close to Changkyun in an uncomfortable way, but her knee grazes his thigh softly, making the man raise his eyebrows questioningly after taking another sip of his drink, this time smaller. Changkyun has one of those moments where he loses his character of a guy with so much confidence that it radiates off him, and one glance at her ashamed face is enough to have him sighing. His fingers glide down until they rest on top of her knee, moving it at the same time that he drags his seat back, their knees interlocked at the end of the effort. “Here we go,” The faint whisper is dry, making his voice sound impossibly appealing. “Comfier?”

“Yes, sorry.” She mumbles quickly before clearing her voice. Although the situation is embarrassing, she doesn’t want anyone at the dinner to realize there is a visible line of awkwardness in between the two. For a couple that supposedly fell in love in just three weeks, they have to act rushed and dizzily in love. “So, I brought that suitcase with a suit that you can try on later, but for now, I am going to ask you some questions and we’ll talk about our preferences. You have to know my entire life story; I have to know yours. Your tastes, what you like, what you don’t…and vice versa, alright?”

“Alright, Mrs. Im.” The name makes her frown deeply, a shaky breath leaving her lips whilst Changkyun smiles dumbly. “Sorry, I thought since—you know, we’re pretending to be fiancés, you’d end up having to use my last name…but…”

“Okay, I’ll have to get used to Mrs. Im.”

“Don’t say it.” The man adds after a chuckle. “It sounds weird. Let’s avoid saying that.”

“Agreed.”

Friends have never been a problem for her, she has had them, mostly women or their boyfriends, but having someone like Changkyun is different. They are not exactly friends, but whenever they talk to each other, any trace of awkwardness bursts into laughter, creating an atmosphere better than any candle lit romance. In the realm of her insecurities, Changkyun lives up to the expectation of remembering her tastes just after she tells him everything he needs to know. Her favorite color comes easily to him, as if he has seen her wear the shade time and time again. His lips wrap around the name of her first pet prettily, and remembers the story about how the principal had it kicked out because pets aren’t allowed in the academy. Enjoyment is what he shows through his expression, listening to her every word with his lips parted—like they always are—and his eyes concentrate on her, leaving no room for hesitance.

His mouth is runny as he speaks about his life, boosts about the important bits that he thinks are the most outstanding, some jokes thrown here and there that would have had her choking on her hot chocolate if she hadn’t finished it so soon. Changkyun has that magic within him, ones that people never talk about his fairytales, to be charismatic but in the most realistic of ways, bringing taboo topics to light and making it seem normal. Talking, to him, is a form of sanity more than an element of bonding, thinking that laughter is exactly what people need. Going as far as saying that it is what she needs.

The easiest part to remember about him is his distaste for anything that has to do with the academy. “You can do so much better. Be a teacher in a real school, that would be better.” He says, but the words die down on her throat with stubbornness. She needs to feel like her time in the academy was worthy, that she showed the Principal that she is better than whatever had been envisioned about her.

Just as they are about to leave, Changkyun insisting on getting a taxi back to the academy, they are reminded of the suitcase that had been coated in small speckles of dust through their conversation. She pushes the suit Kihyun had gifted her for him towards his body, watching his pout grow at the sight of a suit. Tank tops are his uniform, he says whilst he locks himself in the bedroom, and her mind goes to the branches of possibilities from this outcome. Surely, Changkyun has been having free pastries at the bakery ever since he agreed to be her fake fiancé, but something as difficult as that couldn’t simply be paid with brownies. Maybe, deep within him he just wants to spend some time with her…but…

No!

She erases the thought before she can further delve in the depths of romance. Ever said before, she knows romance is not for her—not the touches, not the commitment, not the non-committal part of it. Not because she is not capable of getting it, but because she doesn’t think she would be able to make it last, too ambitious to ever want to be glued to a man’s side.

The door opens widely, in such a rushed manner that she thinks Changkyun might have gone insane in there. His fingers hold the doorknob as he lifts one of his legs to hold in front of her gaze, the shortness of the fabric surprising her.

“You got this from the kid’s section?” Changkyun asks and she chuckles loudly, imagining the embarrassed expression Kihyun would have on his face if he was there.

“No. It’s my friend’s.” She comments, tugging him closer by the vest of the suit before clearing her throat. “The vest is not so bad.”

“The blazer fits me like a crop top!” Always the complainer, he adds, pushing the confines of his shoulder pads with his fingertips. “And this brassier in my shoulders, I don’t even know what it is, but it is not pretty on me or anyone under the age of a hundred.”

“Changkyun—”

“Baby, listen, just listen.” Pushing her away slightly, he turns around to lift the blazer slightly to show the high waisted dressy pants. “I don’t have enough ass for this pair of pants, sorry.”

Her eyes linger on the way the suit fits him, just not for him in the slightest, but she would never dare to say that, although he doesn’t see it, she thinks the size of his body and its proportions are just the type she likes. “Okay, we’ll have to go suit shopping this weekend.” She comments, swatting her had as if it is nothing before ordering him to turn around. “The bottom wasn’t so bad, though. You’re just exaggerating.”

“Say ass.”

“Why?”

“Bottom is so…so old lady, come on.” The man pushes, nudging her side with his finger only to have her scrunching up her nose.

“The ass wasn’t so bad. Happy? Now take me home, please.” Speaking in a rush, Changkyun’s smile widens at the sound of her voice before cooing at it.

“My pretty ass is taking you home, even if these pants don’t do me justice.”

She wants to retract on the fact that she ever thought Changkyun was not confident, for the man has his moments where his ego is taller than any skyscraper she could have ever visited as the daughter of politicians, and that is a lot to say.

⏰

Lesson two starts badly when Changkyun says:

“John Lennon is going to leave The Beatles someday. Mark my works.”

“That’s it. Get out of my home.”

She doesn’t kick him out, really.

In the dead of night, she pushes Changkyun inside of the academy, aware that most people are already asleep and that it is a high possibility that Changkyun won’t find a way to go back home if it’s not by walking, considering that taxies don’t roam around the city at midnight. Like a dream he looks, until he starts to talk as she preps the settlement of the dinner she prepared for the two, arranging the plates and the utensils for them to practice his table manners. It seems like he is far more interested about teasing her about her love of a band, constantly bringing up the fact of their separation. In some moment, when she finally closes the door of the kitchen so they couldn’t be heard, she slaps one of the forks against his head.

His mouth never shuts up, he never thinks about what he is going to say, but he simply says it. He wants to get to know the world far more than it is intended, for he thinks there are higher beings and conceptualizations that no one gets to notice, but he deems himself as powerful enough to get to know them. She listens intently, although Changkyun is talking a lot while she pours two glasses of orange juice, making sure to softly lift the chair from the flooring so it wouldn’t drag once she sits down.

“We are just one dimension; you know?” Changkyun says as he picks up his fork, but instead of twisting the utensil around to grab a bite of food, he simply places as much spaghetti as he desires inside his mouth. “Even in these meatballs, there may be smaller beings than us living their own lives. This word is filled with life and we think we are the only ones that matter.” He scoffs, the sauce of the pasta clinging to the side of his face and she chuckles at his antics. Her stomach folds when she reaches for him over the table, sweeping the sauce off his skin with her fingers before cleaning them on her napkin. “What?” Changkyun’s eyes widen when he looks at her, slowly descending back into her spot before placing her napkin over her lap.

“You’re eating like a dog.”

“Bruno and I share more things than an apartment, I guess.” The man jokes around, watching as a huge smile glues itself to her face. Some would dare to say it’s his effect and only Changkyun’s, to flutter her heart with a simple smile, to caress it with his words and keep it safe with his antics. He is opening up, and she doesn’t have the time to stop herself from following after his steps. “So, lesson two is about eating?”

Taking her fork in between her fingers, she shakes her head. “Table manners, Changkyun.” She tells him, fluttering her eyelashes before reaching for his hand with her free one, making sure that he is holding the fork correctly. “You want to slice a bit of the meatball first, because you don’t want to leave something out of the plate before you start eating.”

“That’s what people say before eating ass,” Changkyun indicates and she scrunches up her nose out of disgust, watching as he tries to control his laughter in silent shaking. “My bad. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Also, don’t say stuff like that.” However, her fake fiancé follows after her step, slicing a bit of the meatball before lifting his gaze to look at her as she speaks. “And you poke it.”

“Poked it.”

“Stop narrating what you do.”

“Stopping.”

Whilst rolling her eyes, her smelling senses remind her that she hasn’t eaten, In the depth of the night, they are two faint shadows bathed in the glow of a yellow light, the little stars dancing at the tune of their fake love, roaming around to hear their muffled steps, the candid laughter, the birth of a friendship. The beauty of something new that she hasn’t experienced, although very different from what she has already lived, brings some sense of purpose to her. “Now, after poking the meatball, you want to roll the spaghetti on the base of the fork. This way, you’re getting both parts of it, you don’t make the cook feel bad and you’re eating just enough. And you don’t have to slurp.” She comments, watching Changkyun’s fingers as they move quickly, wanting to get everything done with—or perhaps, he is just as hungry as she is.

After doing as she says, she notices that he eats with his mouth slightly open, but that is not much of a bother anymore. “Slurping is a big part of eating. It shows people you enjoy what they’re eating,” Changkyun tries to reason, already reaching for the glass of juice before he downs the bite he took of food, but she stops him by placing her hand on top of his.

“One thing at a time.” The scolding tone on her hushed voice has Changkyun swallowing quickly before taking a sip of the orange juice. “And don’t choke on your food. It’s not going anywhere, geez.”

“Okay, now that I learned how to use a fork. Can I eat normally?”

She shakes her head, following after her instructions to eat before speaking up. “There is more to table manners than you think, and since you were working this week, we couldn’t practice sooner. Now, you only have one more week to become the perfectly put boyfriend.” She tells him, watching as Changkyun’s expression turns into one of boredom. Her feet kick his calf under the table, hearing him release a shaky breath before she interlocks their legs, just like they did in his house. “First, you have to greet the people at the table. Not all of them individually, say a greeting, way until the oldest people sit down and you sit before the youngest, of course.” She indicates, hand movements a reminder of how many times she has gone through this lesson in her life. What a lady does to seem posh and put-together. “Be nice, help people with serving drinks and try not to make a mess. Always place your napkin on your lap,” Changkyun follows after her instructions, letting the piece of fabric fall on his lap. “And eat at your pace. Talk to people as you eat, don’t take too little, but don’t take too long.”

“Everything has to be perfect in this place,” Changkyun releases a big breath before doing exactly what she told him. “You prepared this, I imagine?”

“I did.” The embarrassment on her face is clear. “You don’t like it.”

“I love your cooking. What the hell are you talking about?” Raising one of his dark eyebrows, Changkyun lifts his body slightly before dragging his seat across the floor in the most silent way he could do it, sitting by her side on the table before resting his head against his free palm, the other one slicing a bit of a meatball. “As delicious as my beloved fiancé.”

“Ew, Changkyun—”

“Yeah, that was disgusting.” Changkyun chuckles at his own words before filling his mouth with more food, his knee resting beside hers and moving in a bit of a frenzy. Her mind makes out the idea of Changkyun feeling a bit nervous now that the date of the dinner is approaching, but that is almost impossible. “Can I ask for something?”

“Go ahead.”

“I really don’t want to say the cheesy lines.”

“I never asked for cheesy lines, Kyun.”

As if releasing all the weight of his body in a sigh, Changkyun slumps back on his seat with happiness. The sight alone is enough to make her coo inside her mind, thinking that he looks like a daydream whenever he wants to, even if he acts like a nightmare. At her stare, the man straightens his back before putting a single bit of spaghetti inside his mouth, trying to speak with the piece stuck in between his lips. “Let’s do a competition.” She hums at what he says, swallowing her food down. “Whoever slurps on a noodle faster has to gets to have another glass of orange juice.”

She chuckles at his words, but instead of denying the offer, she puts a noodle in between her lips, laughing at her reflection on Changkyun’s shiny, happy eyes. “I could serve you another glass if you want. We don’t have to compete.”

“One, two, three, go!” Of course he is faster, smiling widely when the noodle disappears in between his lips and he claps his hands together as softly as he can, soon after grabbing her face with his hands to show more of his pride off. “What does it feel like to lose?”

“It—”

“Lady!”

That is not the Principal’s voice, for the owner of the academy is far too old to even be awake at eleven at night, but one of the oldest teachers calls out for her, making her stand up from her spot immediately, as if she had just been kicked in the guts by reality. This situation has happened to a lot of people in the academy, most worse than she has had it—tangled in sheets, kissing in the laundry room, sometimes even doing so much as talking, but it has never happened to her, loveless as it gets. The old woman with rollers on her hair is so filled with rage her steps make the strands of her hair move, her fists tightening at the mere sight of the ‘couple’ being so close.

“Lady, I think it’s explicitly clear that we do not accept visits of boyfriends or fiancés to the academy late at night. It’s inappropriate.” This is the life that was picked for her, to be a ‘lady’, so polished and perfect that she is not human. She makes a sound of acknowledgment, lowering her gaze as she mumbles that Changkyun was about to leave, only to gasp when the man shakes his head from his spot, taking a big mouthful of spaghetti and meatballs.

“Nah,” He speaks in between a bite, making the two women in front of him scowl. “What is so inappropriate about me eating spaghetti with my fiancé? It’s not like we’re having sex on the ta—”

“Kyun!” She complains, pressing her lips together to send daggers his way, but Changkyun is a warrior, simply shielding himself and ignoring the stare she gives him. “Teacher, I will make sure to have him out the door in a second. We were just eating, like he said.”

The teacher scoffs, her wrinkled expression making Changkyun even more annoyed. She swears she hears him curse as she puts his plate away, along with hers, to serve the leftovers on a plastic container for him to take back home. “Yes, just eating. I didn’t know eating was the way of getting pregnant.” For a brief moment, the calmness of silence fills her, but Changkyun is not the type to stay silent when he is feeling threatened, so it doesn’t surprise her when he speaks only a few seconds after.

“It depends,” He intelligently says as his ‘girlfriend’ pushes him out of the kitchen, but he takes the moment to turn his back to look at the old teacher in the kitchen. “If you’re eating someone’s d—”

“Changkyun!” She says a little bit louder, taking him by the hand and leading him towards the entrance. Once the door of the kitchen is closed, Changkyun’s angry expression changes into one of fulfillment, waltzing in his step because he lives for making authorities burn in their own anger. However, once he looks at her, he realizes that there may be more to that statement. Standing in front of the door, she doesn’t know if she has to laugh at the situation or be terrified that the Teacher will end up telling the Principal and she is going to lose her job. “I am sorry. This academy…we have set rules and all.”

“Yes, it’s not your fault.” He tries to reason, hearing the rustling of a bag as she hooks it around his finger. The contents are, of course, the container with spaghetti and the full bottle of orange juice. It’s what he deserves, she tries to reason with herself. “I better get going before they tell us that looking at each other will get us pregnant.”

A brief chuckle leaves her lips at his words, leaning forward to rest her lips on top of his cheek, kissing it softly as a goodbye. “I enjoyed our short dinner.”

“We could have a real one soon. I’ll have to see if I have a free night and all…” The man whispers, watching as the Teacher comes up from the kitchen to glare at him. Only to make her even angrier, he leans down to press a kiss to his ‘fiancé’s’ cheek, leaving a burning sensation along with stickiness, all the pleasantries put into his tiny bit of mischief. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye.” As always, Changkyun’s back welcomes her with a good sight, letting her gaze trail down as she dreamily stands by the door. Someone clearing her throat behind her makes her stay away from her daydreaming, closing the door to talk to the Teacher. “I am so sorry I brought someone over at this time. Please, don’t tell the Principal—”

With a sigh, the Teacher fixes the rollers on her head. “I won’t.” The old woman points out. “Tell your terrible fiancé that the dinner has been rescheduled to three weeks from now, because some of the parents won’t be able to make it. Yours included.”

The thought of not having her parents over makes her smile, for she knows she will get even more judgement and arguments if they see her with someone they don’t approve of. Instead, she nods her head, rushing towards the stairs to go to her room. “I can’t thank you enough, Teacher.” She says whilst haltering her steps, letting her head rest against the railing of the staircase. “Have a nice night.”

Changkyun would tell her otherwise, though, but that is the magic of their fake relationship. They are so different and unfitting that they would have to really try to make anyone believe they are together.

⏰

There are memories that will forever be by her heart, engraved in such clarity that she feels like she can relive them, and her wish can only be to live up to that expectation. With the sun setting, yellow turning a rosé colored hue, mixed with orange and small droplets of blue, she thinks of the nicest memories of the past year. Her degree, for starters, received by the best of the best in the academy, all h0nors in her education, is one of the memories she loves the most. The moment one of the members of the academy fell in love, so truly and beautifully that it shakes her, just like Jiahn’s wedding. Countryside visits, all with the people that she grew up with, and the teachers that either left the academy or the spot by her side.

She would have never thought that having friends outside of the academy would come so fast and yet, so comfortably. Perhaps, she shouldn’t give either Woo or Changkyun the title of friends too soon, but it feels like those people have liked her for far more than just her manners; past the stuffy dresses and the fake smiles, a situation in her life brought a new set of memories with it, stronger and more vivid each and every single time.

In her little box of memories, implanted deeply in her heart, she wants to draw the shape of Changkyun—with his back turned to her, like always, not because he means it…but because their meetings are always cut short. With her magic pencil, she would draw the curve of his lips, always parted thanks to his mouth-breathing habit, paired with the wide nose that sometimes gets dusted by the graze of a shade or a color. His eyes, albeit prettily looking at her even if he doesn’t mean it, are always interested in the world that surrounds him. Not only the physique of him, she wants to portray, she also wants to bring the huge amount of things she has learned about him in just two weeks.

Two weeks of knowing Changkyun hates suits, but he also adores reading a good science fiction book. He prefers movies, quite clearly, and can’t sit through a children’s film without crying his eyes out. He doesn’t admit it, the clumsiness that he says is nonexistent within him, but she sees it shine in its brightest lights at every given moment that they have spent together on the daily for two weeks. Right now, as he is in his zone, in his own way of being an artist, painting another house just a few minutes before their date is due, he looks at her with a smile on his face, giving her his painting brush.

“Please, don’t ruin another one of my dresses.”

Changkyun scoffs at her words, looking up and down her body before shaking his head. “Don’t say that out of context ever again. I’ll end up laughing.” His voice is soft, for some reason after she has apologized profusely about having him kicked out of the academy a few nights ago, he feels a little bit more lightweight, much more knowing that they are going to a ‘date’ in a place that he enjoys. Although, he completely ignores her tries of pushing him to buy his suit sometime this week. “This is my favorite part,” Changkyun initiates. “The last bit that needs to be painted. It’s relaxing, in some way, and it teaches me I can actually finish something and change a place with my own version of art.” The deep meaning of such a mundane action sounds foreign in Changkyun’s lips, who simply drags her closer to him before standing behind her. “Come on, paint the last bit.”

“What if I ruin it?” She asks insecurely, looking back at Changkyun who is glancing at her, chuckling at her antics.

“How are you going to ruin an entire wall by just painting one line?”

“I don’t know, you tell me!”

“Well, you fucking can’t.” Changkyun tells her, taking her by the elbow to lift her arm up towards the small bit that is unpainted. “Do it.”

A shaky sigh is what she gives him, running the brush over the small bit of the wall before giving the brush back to him. “There, I did it.” She tells him, perhaps a little bit scared of seeming dumb or simply having him laugh at her way of acting, but Changkyun simply smiles, putting the brush down on a container with some liquid inside it, perhaps to clean it up. His fingers reach for his backpack, unzipping it to get his shirt out of it, putting it up his body to cover his black tank top.

“Let’s get going, then.” Changkyun tells her, making sure to grab the keys of the house and locking it behind them. She feels weird whenever she is around Changkyun, because he has brought a version of herself that she never shows to anyone to light, and he acts nonchalant about it—if anything, he likes to see her as more than just a ‘lady’ or ‘the girl that gives him pastries’ or ‘Woo’s employee’. In his eyes, she thinks she is an interesting person, and that is something no one has ever thought about her. “You’re so going to love this place.”

Walking by his side, she hums at his words. “What makes you think that I’m even going to love something that is not rich, perfect, stuck up like myself?”

“Because you’re rich, but not stupid.” Changkyun tells her, looking up at the sky to have the colors of the sunset falling upon his skin. Now, the color is a softer shade of pink, melting into purple. “You know, you’re one of the few rich people in the world I have actually talked to and haven’t looked at me like I am some scum.”

“You’re not scum.” She points out, resting her hands inside the pockets of her skirt before sighing. “And I’m not the typical rich girl.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m a lady.”

“No, you’re not.” Changkyun adds in between laughter, finally sharing a glance towards her. His eyes are the most beautiful part of him, because he is always joking around, speaking his mind out in such a messy mannerism that she finds herself groaning at his words most of the time, but in his eyes, she can see intelligence. “Ladies in your academy are taught to be the equivalent of a piece of cardboard. You’re cool.” She smiles at his words, turning on a street as she follows his steps. “I wouldn’t have accepted the whole fake dating thing if I was embarrassed of the woman I would be paired up with, but…you’re nice.”

“Just nice?” She raises an eyebrow at his words, pulling one of her hands away from her pocket to drag him closer, wrapping her arm around his as they did on their first night out to his apartment. “You can do better.”

Changkyun seems surprised by the bustling confidence that she feigns to have, a habit that she is trying to take from him, but instead of clinging to the surprise, he laughs at her words. “Nice. That’s all you are. Nice.”

“Changkyun!”

Lowering his head slightly, as if to keep the secret in between the two, he sends a kiss in the form of words. “And gorgeous, inside and out. I look at your intestines and I’m like: mhm, what a fucking woman!”

“…You prick.”

“Asshole, you mean.”

“Ass…hole.”

“That’s it. Swear all you want, baby.”

A part of him radiates from the restaurant that he brings her to, even when it is totally inspired by some type of city in Spain, red and gold and loud with tango playing in the background. People are dancing, some are drinking and a few are eating, leaving a lot of work for the bartenders and very little to do for the waiters or waitresses. It’s just like Changkyun, difficult to miss out on, and he seems to be at ease even with the loud music, taking a seat in a place near people, wanting to feel like he is accompanied in the eventful night.

One would think Changkyun doesn’t know much about food, but he claims to be an expert about what is good. Fried food, that is his concept of a good meal, sitting by her side to point out the dishes that he enjoys the most, and all have the description previously told before its title. Excited he is, promising one hell of a night by teasing her with the idea of dancing as closely as those couples do in the dance floor, but she swats the idea away by laughter.

The staff seem to know Changkyun by the time he orders, calling him by his name and even going down and hugging him out of affection. The orders he gives must be his usual—seriously, she worries about his health—, for the waiter is gone by the time she opens her mouth to thank him. “You really seem to be popular around here.”

“I sang one or two songs here once,” Changkyun tells her, leaning back on his seat and extending his arms to rest his palm against her shoulder. The touch makes her feel comfortable, a burning sensation going up her stomach and burning at her heart. “I was low on money, still figuring out the whole painter thing and they needed a guy to sing. I know the chefs and the workers here.”

She bites on her bottom lip after what he said. “I didn’t know you sing.”

“Huh, I do many things.” The boisterous way he speaks about himself has her smile dropping as she shakes her head, sometimes tired of the way he changes every situation to a joke. “I’m kidding!” He tells her, grasping her shoulder tightly and moving her from side to side. “Tonight, I’m going to teach you how to eat like a real person.”

A throwback of Changkyun’s eating makes her turn to him with a petrified expression. “No forks?” The cuteness of her tone is supposed to have Changkyun melting at her remark, but he nods his head rapidly.

“Just our fingers, dude.”

“That sounds nasty.”

“It’s not, liven up!”

Changkyun is the type of man that wants to give her whiplash with this new sight of a new world she has gotten to see, stuffing more food into her plate just so she picks more up and puts it up to her lips. Laughing at her antics, complimenting her and embarking on conversation, there is never a dull moment for this pair of strangers. From far away, anyone could see the happiness in her expression, a new shade of makeup that she has never used, pushing at his chest when he gets her to the dancefloor simply to dance horribly, claiming that he has taken tango classes when it is clear he hasn’t (“Kyun, you know tango dance is actually from Buenos Aires and not anywhere from Spain, right?” “…Of course, I know all the stuff about tango dancing. I just look like a tango dancer, don’t I?” “Why did I even pick you as my fake boyfriend?”, they argue on the dancefloor).

The bill is on him, the sunset turning into the deep night, the smell of rain lingering on the air even when, through the fun times, she couldn’t even tell that it had rained. Changkyun is by her side, talking her ears off about something when in reality, she is just watching how his lips move with every word, perhaps a little bit buzzed on excitement and happiness. He steps on puddles absentmindedly, like he does not give a damn about his shoes or getting them dirty, so she does just exactly that, finding that she doesn’t care about the heels getting a bit stained. Not all days had to be perfect, she shouldn’t have to be caged at all times.

“I hope you had a great time.” Changkyun says when they near the academy, dragging his steps to make the moment longer and a huge breath leaves her lungs, because the concept of a great time has changed entirely for her.

“This is the first time I’ve felt like this,” The confession she gives him has him beaming with the same happiness, falling into a sweet grin that she would like to photograph to keep in her room, taped to the walls just like Changkyun has in his apartment. “You know, as a student in my academy, I don’t really get to go out at night. Or step on puddles. Or just eat without forks and knives and spoons. And it’s stupid, I realize now that it’s really stupid.”

“Stepping on puddles is all you care about?” The young man questions in between laughter and he watches as she does so, giggling at her own antics.

“It’s damn fun.”

“It damn right isn’t, but okay.”

“Let me live,” She pushes at his shoulders, watching as the academy comes into view. A few moments of silence follow soon after, making her realize that she has to come back to reality. This is the life that she has gotten to live, being a lady just for the sake of pleasing other people but not herself. “We’ll have to enter through the backdoor, but I think I can walk back there. Bye, then—”

“I’ll walk you there. What are you even talking about?” Everyone else thinks the option is pushy, that Changkyun is trying to fit himself into her life, but she is enamored by the idea of getting to see him for a bit more. The moment seems paralyzed, stuck in this tension that she can only describe as constricting, although yearned. The walls of the academy look less like a palace and more like jail as she nears it, standing by the back-door when she hears Changkyun speak. “I want to ask for something, but you can say no if you want to.”

“A cup of coffee?”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in disbelief at what she has just asked him and maybe, his judgement is clouded—the Changkyun she knows would never give up on some free food. Nonetheless, he grabs her by the crook of her elbows, bringing her closer to him before speaking softly, unlike him at all. “I want a hug.” She nods her head, speechless beyond understanding, hearing the sound of his breathing when their bodies connect. The crickets are singing their tune in the near distance, but she can only think of the way Changkyun’s arms rest on the curve of her waist, his fingers tracing soft patterns on there. Her palms want to reach all of him, to claim him as her own just for one night, but she simply places them on his back, her head resting on his shoulder. The moment is sweetened even more when his fingers reach for her nape, trailing up to her cheeks to connect their gazes. “This…” His voice cracks a little bit, making him chuckle at the sound. “Can you imagine what would happen if I kissed you?”

Her heart picks up, thinking of the possibility of having his lips touch hers even if it’s just for a second. A kiss was never necessary for her, or even remotely wanted, all she knew is that people loved the feel of it, as if grounded by the simple touch of lips. It’s complicated, how her hands are practically tugging at his shirt when he says it, knuckles lightening at the pressure. “I don’t think you’re going to kiss me.” She wants to believe this, that Changkyun is just like any other man she has met. Trapped in between his own glory, egocentric past normality, blind and drunken by his ego. This only leads to heartbreak, to stairs and stairs to climb just to get to someone’s heart. Love is supposed to be easy, and this feels far too much like it.

“You think I’m not going to kiss you?” Changkyun asks, tilting his head to the side. Slowly, very much so, his gaze drags down to her lips. “Or you don’t want me to kiss you?” His tongue peaks out to wet his lips, out of a movie that she would avoid watching just because of fear. Romance is even worse than horror.

“I don’t think you will.” She breathes out, voice becoming a mere memory or a plea. She wants to convince herself Changkyun is just getting free pastries and a good time, not exactly following after his attraction.

“I think I will,” is the last thing she hears before she feels Changkyun’s lips softly pressing down on hers. Firstly, she is far too surprised to even react at the kiss, the simple caress of his skin upon hers making her sigh. Her hands drag up his chest, resting upon where his heart is, seeking sanity in the feeling that engulfs her and somewhere within her mind, she thinks she feels Changkyun grabbing her by her waist, pulling her impossibly close before he lets his hands rest upon her hips. Sweet laughter follows the short meeting, one that she can’t even look at because she doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe, he is disappointed. “Kiss me like you mean it, dumbass.” He jokes around, biting down on her bottom lip slowly, so softly she almost doesn’t feel him when he delves down to press another kiss to her lips. This time around, Changkyun is the one that takes the lead, and the dream that she has made upon a star for the moment to last becomes true. The warmth of his body seeps through their fabrics of clothing, his heart starts beating as fast as hers does before becoming relaxed.

Though Changkyun is not a man of patience, his kisses feel like he is taking all the time in the world to undress all she needs, all she wants, all she never knew she looked for. His fingers look for hers, interlocking together on each side of their bodies when he pulls away, resting a few more kisses upon her lips before finishing it off with a chuckle. She doesn’t know if he’s laughing at the situation or if she should open her eyes, but something inside her tells her to do it, and she is met with the most adoring look she has ever been given.

Changkyun’s lips are red thanks to the kiss, somewhat smudged with her lipstick and she realizes then that his breathing is raged. In hopes of taking his breath away, she wraps her arms around his waist and presses another sweet touch to his lips. “Thank you.” She whispers soon after, only to have Changkyun cackling, trying to muffle the sound immediately.

“You’re saying ‘thank you’ for the kiss?”

Shaking her head, she stutters out whatever she can say: “A-Ah, not that…I was actually thanking you for…yeah, the kiss and the night and everything.” The air feels so much more lightweight and maybe, this is what people call romantic tension. Changkyun lets his thumb rub against her bottom lip, biting down on his own at the sight.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” The seriousness in his voice surprises her, even more when he continues. “I kissed you because I think you’re amazing. I…I guess I took your first kiss?”

“You did.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I know,” He points out before giving her another long kiss, the sound alone making her smile against his touch, leaning closer to the point their chests are pressed together. The man stands on his tip-toes, tilting his head far enough so the kiss is stopped. The position is silly, of course. “No more kisses. Some teacher will come out and they will tell you I’m getting you pregnant out here.”

She chuckles at his words, swatting her hand over his arm before reaching for her keys, looking for the one that opens the back door and pushing it open, welcoming the smell of the academy. “Kyun…”

“Huh?” The man turns around, lifting his eyebrows when she goes towards him to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

“Get home safe, okay?”

Though, when he returns the kiss, she wonders if this romance is fake anymore. He isn’t her fiancé, of course, far too much of a stranger to ever be so, but she finds him incredibly attractive.

⏰

“I am not letting you look at me like this. I feel like I’m dressed as a clown, and I don’t really like clowns, you know? I’m one but—”

“Kyun, stop babbling on about clowns. Let me look at the suit!” She tries to speak to him through the changing rooms, smiling at some worker that looks at her with a stinky expression. In any other occasion, perhaps a month back, she would have cared about it, but now she simply tries to look away to stop stressing out about it. Just four days away from the dinner celebration, she is surprised that Changkyun has still not gotten his suit, for it took a lot more ranting and babbling to get him to finally give in and go shopping with her. However, after getting his measurements taken and trying on the suit, she can’t even see him. “I want to look. I am sure you really look handsome.”

Whiplash is what follows soon after, for she is literally swooped off her feet and kicked by oxygen when Changkyun opens the door of the changing rooms as quickly as possible, dragging her inside and locking the door behind him. The space is short; to the point she can feel Changkyun’s back pressed to her chest once he stands in front of the mirror. The first thought she has deals with what others would think; a lady like her getting into a man’s changing room and…simply staying there, it doesn’t sound possible, but the more she thinks about it, the more absurd it sounds. Instead, she tries to get a glimpse of Changkyun’s clothing, but he is covering up most of the mirror just so she doesn’t look at him.

Her arms wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to her and away from the mirror, looking up from his shoulder to see his reflection. Changkyun would never give himself enough credit for how elegant he looks with a suit on, like a man that is ready to kill with his stare. His black hair is pushed away from his forehead, his face leading to the most gorgeous black suit with a white tie to match, digging nicely on his waist, even more highlighted by the nice fitted pants and the broadness of his shoulders comes naturally without the need of extra fabric—or bras for the shoulders, how he likes to call them—. Surely, it doesn’t look like the Changkyun she is used to, but he looks breathtaking nonetheless.

Maybe her look of appreciation isn’t enough, for the man continues to babble about how he feels uncomfortable. She grabs him by the shoulders, giving a few steps back to feign checking him out. “The ass looks good in this one, and everything else does, too. I don’t know why you’re being so insecure.”

Going past the fact that she has just cussed, Changkyun plays with his fingers before clearing his throat. “It makes me look dumb and like one of those guys that are always at your academy trying to court you.”

She rolls her eyes at his words, per usual. “No. You look even better.” She pushes, wrapping her arms around him once again before resting a soft kiss on the fabric covering his shoulder blades, making sure that her lipstick doesn’t stain it. “I like you with your normal clothes, but you really do look great.”

“Do I?”

“Like a prince.”

“Ugh, I hate that.”

“Okay, then like a villain from a movie that rules a starship and is ready to take over the world.”

“Ooh, that sounds better.” Changkyun coos at the name, turning around and pressing his back to the mirror behind him simply to bring some space in between them. She is more-so stuck to the wall, becoming one with the uncomfortable woodened material, but Changkyun doesn’t seem to mind as he rests his hands on each side of her body, caging her in with a smile on his face. Faint at first, then bigger. “I would have never done this for anyone else, you know? I just have this soft spot for you.”

Most of his words take the air away from her lungs in laughter, but these ones make her heart constrict so badly she thinks she is going to have a heart attack. “I, uh…I…”

“My whole family has these big events at all times and I go there in a button down, but I wear a suit for you. That’s big.” His voice lowers lightly, letting his gaze trail down to her lips before pecking them softly. These past few weeks, they have only shared a few kisses—given when he is in a rush and he doesn’t have the time to think about the situation, or when she is really craving his touch, but most of the time she is lost in the limbo of not knowing where they stand. If this is Changkyun acting…then she doesn’t know what she would do. “I’m doing this for you.”

“I know,” She whispers against his lips, opening her eyes to see his are closed, lost in the trance of whatever is in between them. “So, this suit is the one for you?”

“If you like it…” He shrugs his shoulders, licking his lips before kissing her once again. “I’ll wear it.”

But her mind wants to stop him from kissing her, afraid of having her heart broken by the situation that surrounds them. She doesn’t know what is fake, what is real, if Changkyun is simply trying to prove to himself he is a good actor or he has actually caught these feelings. Maybe, he doesn’t even call them feelings at all, he is simply doing as he pleases, going with the rhythm of the beautiful nights that they board in. With thoughts that eat at her brain, she leaves the changing rooms, sparing a glance at the worker that keeps looking at them.

What would happen after the dinner? Would Changkyun finally come to the conclusion that this is not a ‘forever’? Would he lose all the interest he apparently has?

She doesn’t want to question it, but it lingers on her brain. It makes her feel useless, for she has never worried about romance and there she is, giving an ode to the confusion in her brain.

⏰

The first one to notice is Kihyun, squinting his eyes at the mere sight of the ‘eventful couple’, and that is enough to set her off. The evening for the dinner is set with candle lights, gorgeous piano music in the background, people dressed in their best attires, children laughing, couples sharing drinks and of course, her appearances in the kitchen whilst everyone is having fun. Long ago, she had finished the last plate for the dinner, but she is far too concerned about not putting up a good act to even go out. It is hard to breathe, half of her head is thumping with pain, settling mostly in her eye and Changkyun is simply standing there, one leg over the other whilst he leans back on the counter, plopping some food inside his mouth before he has to put the utensils to use out there.

“Everything will be fine.”

“I don’t think it will.”

One thing is pretending to be together in front of one or two people, mainly because they have never really tried, but another thing is putting on an act of being engaged. The Principal is somewhere around there, waiting for her to fail and she wonders what she really wants. On one hand, she has Woo’s bakery and the opportunity to work there full-time, knowing well that she is going to have a paycheck to pay for her own place. On another hand, there is the fact that she could pull up with this and simply trust Changkyun, that has done no less than excellently while greeting people with all the elegance of the world, even getting brief compliments from older couples and parents. Then, there are the millions of opportunities that she could pick from, like working as a teacher outside of the academy, or simply staying with Changkyun without really having to fake. It all goes through her brain and she is far too scared about everything to even go out.

Even the prettiest of dresses can’t mas her nervousness, and Changkyun stops eating for a moment simply to hold her, take her by the arms and rub at the skin there, pressing down lightly on the tension that she has in said muscles. “You’re even making me anxious. Relax. Everything will turn out alright. People are loving us thus far.”

She tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ears, aware that the cooking must have ruined her hairstyle, but Changkyun looks as relaxed as ever, as if he doesn’t really care about the setting. She wants the moment to end, unlike all the times that she has spent with Changkyun, because this is not him. This is not her. She is not this preppy, perfect lady that has simply decided to get married because that is what she has to do. She doesn’t think she even knows the concept of love anymore; she simply feels what she has to feel. “Are you sure?”

“I mean…I guess.” Changkyun’s lips pucker up as he speaks, muffled by his own thoughts. “What’s bothering you so much?”

“You.”

“Excuse me?”

She sighs, shaking her head before resting it against his shoulder. “Not you. Well, yes you but not in that way.” She tries to excuse herself, resting her chin against his pectorals before biting down on her bottom lip. “I feel so bad for making you go through this and now I wonder why I thought changing you was a good idea.”

Changkyun shakes his head at what she says. “I don’t understand it myself. I mean, I’m awesome as I am,” As always, he jokes around and for the first time in that night, she feels at ease. “But…if your dream is getting that job here, I’m helping you. As your fake boyfriend, as a friend.” The word ‘fake’ makes her heart do something that she doesn’t understand, her stomach becoming a mess of words, food and emptiness. She feels sick, pushing her weight off him and releasing a sigh before she hears the sound of the door opening lightly, closing soon after and then, her name is being called.

What she doesn’t expect to hear is the sound of a plate being thrown to the dishwasher, along with food that immediately gets drowned in the few droplets of water that were there. A gasp leaves her lips, although not audible, looking up to see the source of such an atrocity, for one of her meals is thrown down the drain immediately. The Principal looks at her, stoic and old as always, sharing a glance with the couple before lifting her chin in mightiness.

“What a disgrace,” Her mind can’t make up what the Principal is thinking, or why she has thrown the plate on the dishwasher. If she ever felt better, she doesn’t remember it, there is not a trace of that feeling within her chest anymore. Changkyun becomes her anchor, once again bringing her down to a more peaceful reality. “This food is not gourmet. It’s fried and distasteful. It’s…ordinary. My guests would have been repelled by such a sight, something as terrible as that.”

She tries to find the words in her mouth, instead coming up with a soft excuse. “It’s a new recipe. I found it in a book and I thought it would be tasty—”

“This is unlike you.” The Principal spits out and it has been like this for the past few years. After all, the Principal sees her as that useless individual she has to cook for the more important people; the women who are getting married, the men that are in businesses. Even when ‘engaged’, that is never going to change. “I don’t even know how you’re going to please this young man right here. Not that he probably asks for much, I heard the younger students talking about how he was painting the house in the front not too long ago.” The statement makes the Principal scoff to herself, but she simply gets closer to Changkyun, feeling how his hands wrap around her waist and tighten over the stuff material of her dress. “Is this the type of men you find? Of course, you have never—”

“She has never been like you, that’s why you talk to her like that.” Changkyun finally pulls away from her, his eyebrows frowned entirely as he stands in front of the Principal, shaking his head at the words the woman said.

“Kyun—”

“You’re so envious. She has always been exactly what you asked everyone to be but no one met that expectation for you. You wanted people to be like you, and when someone surpassed you, you went bat-shit crazy.” The way he speaks has the Principal blinking quickly, the color drains from her face quickly, and even she is at a loss of words. She knows Changkyun is like this, but just a few minutes ago he was so set in making this work. Her dollhouse fell a long time ago, but now Changkyun is playing with the crumbs. “She is the perfect teacher, everything you could ask for and more and I’m proud of her.”

“Of course, all you do is paint houses. You’d be proud of this.” The Principal points at the mess in the dishwasher before laughing bitterly. “It’s as ordinary as you.”

“Enough you two. I don’t want to hear this—”

“Your manners are up your ass, I see.” Changkyun points out, taking the time to look the Principal up and down before releasing a shaky sigh. “Get a life and stop trying to ruin other’s. This dollhouse fantasy you have, it’s sick. You’re creating slaves, not actual people.”

The Principal has a grin on her face, crossing her arms over her chest before pointing at the door. “Good, that’s good.” Her body is shaking, unaware of how her life is falling apart right in front of her, everything that she has believed to be her home is now being taken away from her, something within a lie and the truth falling in a humbled mess. She is a mess, too. “I want the two of you out of my dinner.”

“But, Principal—” She tries to argue, standing beside Changkyun to try to speak up.

“You were never even going to be a teacher to start with. Just get on with your man and get out of my house. Tomorrow, I’ll have one of the younger ladies taking your stuff in a suitcase to the bakery, but I don’t want you here for another second.”

It is not Changkyun’s fault, she tries to convince herself as the bruising heat of the night engulfs her. Changkyun is by her side, of course, having taken off his blazer and resting it on top of her shoulders, shaking at every sob that leaves her lips. At some point, when she realizes she doesn’t know what her life is anymore, she drops to her knees and lets herself get everything out.

Because she doesn’t know if there is a reality outside of the academy, too brainwashed with the idea of being a trophy-wife, of being this perfect girl. She has saved enough money to have a place, she has friends by her side that could help her, and yet…she doesn’t know if this is reality. All this time, she thought her life was set to be lived in the academy, and in just a month, a bunch of people had made a home out of her and seen her as livable.

People had seen her as worthy, and Changkyun is one of them.

Surprisingly enough, Changkyun drops to her side, wrapping his arms around her to speak his reality: “I’m not going to say I’m sorry, because I’m not. I know you think this academy is the shit, but it really is not. There is no pattern for a lady to follow, and you know this, you are not a trophy-wife, you are not the amount of meals you cook for your man…you’re what you like, what you do, what you’re good at. I accepted to help you, but…but now I care about you and it sickens me that you want to be part of this.” The words he tells her make her feel at peace, but at the same time, the argument that surfaced with a person that she had cared about in the past aches within her. She looks up at him, watching the anger in Changkyun’s face dissipate to worry. “…You’re not mad, are you?”

She sniffles, covering her face in fear of seeming too weak, but that is exactly what she is not. “I am so confused, Kyun.” She confesses, pressing her face to her knees and letting a loud sob escape her. “I don’t know what is true anymore. I could find a new apartment, find a new job…and I don’t know if it will work for me. I really don’t…I really don’t know if I’m capable of ever meeting someone’s expectations.”

“You should only care about the expectations you set up for yourself.”

“That is easy to say. You have not been trained to be like me.”

“I haven’t,” Changkyun tells her, pushing his weight off the sidewalk to lift her up her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a chaste, soft kiss to her temple. “That is more of a reason for you to get out of that place. Be the real version of yourself, alright? Kick some ass. After all, all those girls are going to feel bland after a while, because that is not a good way of living. Take this as a nice chance to start over.”

In his eyes, everything is so easy. Changkyun sees the world as a wall, ready to be painted over, all mistakes erased with the magic of colors, but she sees past that. She thinks there are more complexities to it, memories that stick to her, the judgement that always follows her. Even so, she knows there are other questions in life…but Changkyun is there, even when the entire ‘fiancé’ ordeal is over, there is something there. A romance that they silently talk about through their gazes.

At her lacks of words, she simply wraps her arms around him, crying even louder onto his shoulder and tugging at him for dear life. He is one of the few people she has. “T-Thank you…”

“I’m going to,” Changkyun clears his throat, letting his hands rest on her back before sighing. “We’re going to book you a hotel for tonight, okay? I would offer my apartment, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. So, uh, fuck, let’s go?”

This isn’t scripted, and she realizes then that the unscripted Im Changkyun is the one that she truly is falling for. Suit or not, he is incredibly important to her, as a friend, as a romantic interest, as the man that keeps her warm that night with the faint promise of everything turning alright at the end.

⏰

The ringing atmosphere of tango immediately buzzes her senses, pushing her boss through the door with quick steps. Woo is normally a man to spend time with his old wife, loving the way she talks him to sleep, or basking in their silence that indicates comfortableness. Some would say their love is more of a routine right now, but she always tells him there is more to it—there is love in silence, strangely enough, in the untold truths about romance. This is why he is so shy while she brings the couple over to the spot Changkyun introduced to her three months prior to that, when she was stuck in an academy that didn’t appreciate her.

Though, it is difficult to get over the little demons that float around her head that tell her that she was unable to meet the expectations of the Principal, but she pushes them away with another roll of the pastries on the counter, continuing with her work as a baker. On the evenings, she tries to do something with Changkyun…help him with his own work, perhaps, or get him to take a walk with Bruno and herself, and at nights, when she really is lonely in her tiny apartment, she takes up on reading and trying out for new jobs, grabbing on to that habit of Changkyun’s of filling her tables with newspapers and encircled job opportunities.

In between every kiss, she tries to put a name to it. She wants it to be called more than a ‘romance’ and sometimes, when either of them tries to push the words out, they realize what position they are in their lives—Changkyun is carrying around four works in his shoulders, and she really is trying to become a teacher, so they push the thought away before it is too loud. She clings to his side and he does to hers, like two different spectrums that simple ended up together in the same story.

“I’m going to look for Changkyun, but you can sit down here and one of the waiters will come soon after.” She knows where the man is, probably by the entrance to the kitchen trying to talk to the chefs, for he really considers them good friends. With a quick movement on her step, a highlight of the rainbow that follows after the storm, she finds excitement prickling at her bones, being the reason why she is there with her closest friends—her boss, his wife and Changkyun, for her girl-friends couldn’t make it.

Indeed, Changkyun is by the open door of the kitchen, talking excitedly about something that keeps his hands moving. The chef doesn’t seem so thrilled, telling him his own theory that is suddenly cut short when her cold palms press to Changkyun’s skin under his shirt. The man jumps on his spot, cussing loudly at her before a big smile appears on his face. The chef secretly thanks her, she knows so, and she thanks him, too, for having Changkyun’s entire attention is something that comes easily to her right now, but it wasn’t as perfect in the past. After all, their story started with brownies and a crazy proposition.

“Why did you invite me here?”

“Because I wanted to?”

“Huh, that’s not the only reason.” Changkyun squints his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest before lowering his face to look at her as if inspecting her. “You’re hiding something from me.”

She chuckles at his words, pressing her palm to his chest just to feel his heart. A habit of hers now, because Changkyun doesn’t show he is excited or nervous most of the time, wanting to seem cool and poised, but his heart gives it away. “Before I tell you what I’m hiding, if I’m hiding anything, I need us to say all the cuss words we can remember.”

Changkyun chuckles at her cringe-y words, shaking his head at what she said. Really, she thinks it is stupid, but she is too excited to care. “You just want us to curse?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay, you start.”

The giggle that escapes her lips is inevitable, for she is starting to get more used to the language now that she is surrounded by Changkyun. “Fuck.”

“Ooh, we’re starting strong.” The man teases her before biting down his bottom lip. “Shit.”

“Asshole.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“That’s a long one,” She tells him, only to have him chuckling.

“Have heard that before,” He tries to joke around, only to have him taking her by the shoulders to shake her slightly. “But tell me what you wanted to tell me. I’m dying over here—!”

Taking one step forward, she feels all the weight of the world being taken off her shoulders when she speaks her reality to him. “I got a job as a teacher in a small school at the center of the city. I’ve made it.” She confesses, not even realizing what has hit her when Changkyun takes her by the waist, lifting her up in the air to smile at her before pressing a loud kiss to her lips.

“That’s my girl, fuck yes!”

Or maybe, it’s just a countdown to the time they actually discover they have been a couple all along. The truth surfaces in their loving gazes, all memories a picture could never pinpoint.

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dididrawsblog · 5 years

Text

Mr. Perfect // slow burn

Part V

Summary: Steve Harrington was the coolest guy at school and now he’s working with you at the rental store. Very complicated story about complicated feelings.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/ You

Warning: language

A/N: IM ALIVE! Yeah..This chapter is big so make some tea and prepare yourself. Btw, if you guys have any suggestions about the plot you can write them in the comments.

Sunday 1 am. You were sitting on the ground with your back placed to a cold wall of an old building. Your knees were covered with scratches and blood and the hem of your dress was torn. It was a cold night. The light of the sign ‘Family video’ painted your face red. You were barely crying and you didn’t even know why. Was it because of knee pain or because of Steve? You shivered because of wind and pulled your knees to chest. You felt betrayed. Betrayed and lonely. You picked up a bottle of tequila and took a big swallow. You’d been drinking the whole way here and now the bottle was half empty. Or half full. You giggled. Hot tears went down your cheek.

Let’s get back to the start.

Saturday evening; 7pm.

You were helping a very annoying man who didn’t know what he wanted. You had been standing in front of shelves with movies for thirty minutes. He touched his unshaved chin and looked at your exhausted face one more time.

“So, will you help me or not?” He asked you with that disdainful and haughty expression. His enormous belly was falling over the edge of his pants, he had a greasy spot on his t-shirt and yellow teeth. Jesus. He smelled like shit.

“Sure. Let’s repeat. What kind of film do you want?” You said with your teeth clenched.

“Jesus Christ. It’s very simple! I need a horror movie with a complicated romantic relationship and sprinkles of comedy”

“And?”

“Right! It’s very important - NUNS!” Like he forgot about that long discussion.

“Sir” You took a deep breath. “I’m telling you one more time: we don’t have movies like that. We either have horrors with shitty love story or comedies with shitty love story AND none of them have NUNS” You didn’t know what was wrong with that man but he pissed you out. You look at his red face that matched his t-shirt and suddenly caught Steve’s eyes behind him. Harrington was standing five feet away from you.

“Listen to me-“ Red face made a step to you and almost grabbed your hand. He was furious about a fucking movie. Man, get a life! You were getting not just exhausted but mad as hell. Before any word came out of your mouth, Steve placed his hand on mans’s shoulder.

“What about ‘Sister Gertrude’? It’s a horror with a nun and it is hilarious sometimes. I mean have you ever seen a possessed nun?” Steve gave him a tape and winked at you. You smiled unconsciously.

“But what about love line?” The man kept looking at the tape, he wasn’t that red anymore.

“It’s hard not to fall in love with Gertrude, isn’t it?” Steve’s gaze was still fixed on you and you rolled your eyes. The man thanked Steve for his help and went to the counter. Right. Thanks, Steve.

“Asshole.” Said Steve and came closer.

“Did you see his huge hairy wart on his neck?” He laughed.

“No...but I can see it from here. God” He brushed his hair with a hand, looking at Robin. “Do you- I mean... If you want... of course..”

“What? Did you forget how to use words?” That was a bit harsh. Sometimes you say something but you don’t really mean it. You made a small cough and looked away.

“I’m having a party this Sunday which is tomorrow. So, I’m asking you if you wanna come.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. Sun went down behind him and the sunlight turned his hair gold. He is a tall and well built guy. Like a statue in a museum. Steve was looking at his hands waiting for an answer. “Robin will be there too”

“Yeah...um. Okay” that’s all you could say.

“Really?” He smiled widely. Such a child.

“Of course. Why not?”

“Okay. Cool...ugh. See you tomorrow then” He started to back up still looking in your eyes. He accidentally hit a rack with films and it fell down covering the floor with romcoms. You heard Robin laughing hard and you joined her.

“Dingus!” She said to him. “Clean everything up and come to me. I need to tell you something”

You came to the poor boy and sit next to him grabbing a pale of movies. You were so close you almost hear him breathing. His hair brushed your cheek and your shoulders touched. You quickly stood up and went to the storage room. You just needed to hide your rose face. You are too overeating. Like, it’s just Steve Harrington. Calm down.

Next day you spent with your mom watching movies and doing nothing. You were relaxing after a hard day at work. You couldn’t stop thinking about the party though. You were too concerned about it. At eight pm you took a shower and waited for Robin to come. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been preparing for the party with a friend. All those dresses and shoes and rock music and talks about getting drunk tonight.

Robin came to you fully prepared. She looked stunning and bitchin at the same time. She helped you to choose a dress and did you a makeover. You felt so great spending that time with Robin. She was so funny and supportive and cool. Like you have a real friend. Maybe she is your friend.

You were standing in front of wooden doors of Harrington house. It was a large two-storey building with a brown roof. You felt exited standing next to the blue-eyed girl who knocked on the door. Five minutes later the party boy opened to you. He was standing right in front of you holding a red cup with liquid. Just like the last time you’d visited his house. There was a difference though. Now he was looking at you. He noticed you. He knew you are here. And he smiled.

“Hello, ladies. I’m glad you’re here” he grabbed both of you and pulled in. House was full of teens and booze. You saw some people from high school but they weren’t there at the first party. They were ghost at school just like you. Then you realised that most of them was Robin’s friends. The crowd of people tugged you into the living room. Right to the dance floor. You couldn’t find Steve or Robin in that mess so you just danced. You had a chat with some classmates, moved your body a little and as party went by you realised you didn’t drink yet.

You went to the kitchen to grab something . Nobody was there. Just a table with snacks and a bowl with cherry punch. You didn’t bother about finding Robin anymore. You lost her as you came in. The wave of people devoured her. You were wondering was she having fun out there or looking for you? Guess she just forgot about you. Standing there drinking sweet-n-sour drink you listened to the sounds of music from the next room. You just needed a second to relax when Steve came. There was a bottle in his hand and he was rather tipsy.

“Here’s Y/N! How ar ya?” He sat on the couch in front of the table.

“I’m good. Yeah, it’s a pretty nice party” you came to him with a cup of punch, taking a bottle from him and adding some alcohol there. It wasn’t a nice party. You felt forgotten. Again. But now he’s here right?

“Jesus, I’m so happy you’re here. C’mon. Sit next to me” he pulled you closer on the sofa and placed his head on your shoulder. He’s not just tipsy. He’s drunk. You can smell it now.

“I can’t find Robin out there. She’s just disappeared” you looked in your cup and then at Steve. He was so close now. His eyes was fixed on you, his soft hair tickled your cheek and god... You liked it. You made a sip and burning liquid went down your throat.

“What?” You finally asked that dork who kept looking at you.

“What ‘what’?”

“You are an idiot, Steve Harrington” You smiled softly taking another drink.

“And you are beautiful, Y/N Y/L/N” your cheeks turned red and you turned your head away.

Robin with a couple of people interrupted your moment of awkwardness. There she is. She seemed busy talking and laughing and drinking. You stood up and went to the bathroom to fresh up as fast as you could. Your face were burning when you washed it with cold water. No, no, no. Not Harrington. Anyway, he didn’t mean it. He is drunk. You sat down on the corner of the bathtub and took a deep breath. This party sucks. Steve and Robin...That’s so messed up. You fixed your makeup a little bit and looked at yourself in the mirror. You never considered yourself as ‘beautiful’. Pretty, funny, smart but not...beautiful. To be logical, you didn’t have the perfect body from magazines and your hair and face. It just didn’t make any sense.

Sound of breaking glass pulled you out of your thoughts. Your opened the door and heard screaming. It was scary. The loud and angry voice cut the air. Sounded like a fight. Probably a serious one. The only thing you could think about now was to find a weapon. Yeah..weird. But it wasn’t your first party-fight. You came out of the bathroom and went into the closest room you saw. Presumably Steve’s room. You hadn’t got enough time to examine it so you just grabbed the barbed bat near his bed. By the time you went downstairs right into the living room, Steve was already fighting with...Um, you couldn’t see through the crowd. You jumped but still nothing. BAM! The crowd dispersed and you saw Harrington on the ground. His back was placed to the coffee table. Blood was dripping down from the corner of his mouth and from the scratch on the cheek. Tommy H. stood in front of him. He wanted to attack again.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” You screamed and hit the floor with the bat. Tommy turned around and looked at you. Actually, everyone was looking at you. The girl who nobody knew was standing in a small dress and a big bat in front of the king of assholes.

“Hey, look who’s here. Sorry, I don’t remember your name. Steve, do you- No, I don’t think you remember her” Tommy smiled at you and you almost threw up. He took a step closer. This jerk knows who are you.

“One more step and I’ll beat the shit out of you” he didn’t listen. He just came closer when you hit the floor with the bat again. It was very close to his feet. He jumped back.

“Bitch” Tommy slowly turned around and went away. You dropped the bat and came to Steve.

“Jesus, Harrington. Why did you invite him?” Robin brought up a wet towel and placed it to his cheek.

“He didn’t” she looked at you. Where was she by the way? “I..um. I’ve invited his sister” Robin looked sad and disappointed. Steve couldn’t think or do anything cause he was drunk and beaten. His head was lying on her lap.

“And why did you do that?” You asked her as calm as you could. You actually wanted to shout at her.

“I didn’t know she’ll bring her brother and...boyfriend” It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t even an answer to your question.

“Robin, what the hell? I came here because of you and I thought we could have some good time. And you just left me for an asshole’s sister. You left me all alone in the house full of strangers” She looked away.

“Sorry, but you won’t understand” she whispered.

“Clearly, I don’t understand anything” you stood up. “What’s wrong with you?” Robin looked scared and ashamed. You suddenly felt bad for your words. There was something you didn’t know. Something very bad.

Steve opened his eyes...well an eye actually. He looked at Robin who was barely crying and you. Furious.

“Out” he whispered.

“What?” You finally noticed him.

“I said get the hell out of my house” he said it so simple. Like he wasn’t throwing you out. Like it was a small talk about weather. But it hit you hard.

You left. With no words. You just grabbed a bottle from the ground near the exit and left. While you were coming down the stairs, you tripped and fell, tearing your tights. It was painful but you stood up, took down your shoes and leaded down the street.

And now we are here.

You wiped your tears and pressed your head to the wall. Your eyes were closed. Silence. Sounds of footsteps.

“Hey” said very familiar voice.

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nanigma · 5 years

Note

Id like to hear your take on the four childhood friends from BL! Theyre nice and deserves all the love :) except maybe sylvain lol (im kidding)

Ooh boy, four in a single post! Here we go:

Dimitri

When the game was first revealed, I never imagined I would love him like that. Before this, the only Lord I considered a fave was Micaiah. Most left me indifferent to them. But Dimitri himself is a really great protagonist with a journey not many have been allowed to take as he was.

His portrayal of mental illness isn’t perfect, but it’s still pretty respectful all things considered. I like how they explicitly establish that his darkness is part of him and he needs to atone for the crimes he committed while stuck in it. I don’t know, it just felt like they took him seriously as a human being, rather than just your standard woobie archetype.

Felix

The boy, the man, the wonder. I guess this proves that my type is tsundere boys with communication issues. Keep an eye out for that when the next FE’s roster gets revealed. Anyway.. I really really appreciate him as a character. Typically the Navarre type doesn’t hold much appeal for me, but they made it work here by having Felix just care so goddamn much about other people, he can’t stand their suffering. So he just stands on the sidelines and verbally jabs at them in hopes of getting them to notice their errors.

I also love how done he is with knightly ideals in his country and can openly criticize what is usually endorsed by the series. His intense relationship with Dimitri is always an important point for him. Dimitri’s fate directly affects his own. Then there is his supports with Sylvain, where they get this close to being an official couple, if it wasn’t for Intsys being cowards. Like his relationship with these two is always going to matter, regardless of who you actually pair him with. I can dig that.

(stopping myself here, because I need to get to two others still)

Sylvain

Before I got into tsundere, I had a different kind of fave. The type best describe as “red-headed flirt, who hides his inner pain behind a laid-back/jokester attitude”. It sounds really specific, but you’d be surprised by the amount of characters like that in fiction. Anyway, teenage me was kind of starved for attention, so the thought of a good-looking guy coming onto me was pretty appealing. This obviously changed in the last years.

Encountering Sylvain gave me a good chance to reexamine the character type and recognize some of the more toxic parts in how he treats women. The game seemed to note this too with Dorothea pointing it out. Sadly it never really goes the entire way in making him think about it and change his ways. I do like how Sylvain is someone who has experienced his own pain, but become too wrapped in it to see other people suffering in very similar ways. His way of coping is by lashing out at the society and the people he feels did this to him. Yet because of his lack of perspective, he doesn’t see how he is actually mostly targeting the innocent.

It makes for a very intruiging character that sadly was never allowed to live out his full potential.

Ingrid

I’m a bit torn on Ingrid actually. On the one hand, I like how she is usually the one keeping the gaggle of boys in line. She also has very sweet supports with a lot of people (I like her with Ashe personally). And her wanting to be a knight despite her father’s wishes, yet struggling with disappointing him is great. However, I am not entirely fond of how they handled her relationship with Glenn. Sure I can buy her being sad about his death, but am I really expected to believe that a betrothal made when she was child, which ended when she was just 13, was really the big first love of her life to which all other relationships have to measure up first?? I don’t know, I can’t really get behind that.

It would be one thing for them to play it up as her talking from nostalgia for something that could have been, but it really doesn’t seem to be the case with how everyone talks about it. I am also not entirely fond of how they handled her racism against people from Duscur. Did they really have to go the “you are a credit to your race” route? Anyway, aside from those things I still like her. Unlike the boys I always make sure to recruit her and give her a happy ending, because god knows at least one of them should have that.

#3H #3H spoilers #three houses spoilers #ingrid #dimitri #felix #sylvain #childhood quartet #Anonymous

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theplumsoldier · 5 years

Text

STAY THE NIGHT

Request: Anonymous asked: Hey x Can I request "just... stay for the night." with Negan x wife reader? I don't know if you still write Negan but if you don't, that's totally fine. The last thing I'd want is to make you do something you don't wanna do. I love your writing and thank you! ☺️❤️

A/N: took a long time and for that im sorry but i do hope i kind of lives up to your expectations or at least suffice, thanks for dedicating me your time

Pairing: negan x reader

Word count: 1882

Warnings: angst, vulgar language.

Negan realized that this time, he for sure had managed to sufficiently piss off his most admired wife, even if so it happened she attempted to hide her anger beneath the strong and stiff layer of a coated smile, gleamy eyes, and sweet dismissing voice. That was her usual way of managing, however now—now was not a time of such and she was in fact not merely angered consequent to his actions, no Y/N she was furious.

“And telling you this I must admit that until now it just may have been fear keeping me from bringing this into light, but your actions, words—not just toward me but the way you so seem to wallow in others’ dismay, it’s too much. You’re too far over the line, Negan, always glorying in the fear you put in their minds, as if the dead weren’t enough, you go and bash heads in to make a point! And even so, when you’re not running around showing what power you possess, you humiliate us, make us uncomfortable and you enjoy crossing people—that power you feel brushing your veins knowing very well if you desired so, they would lie dead at your feet. It’s where you get off, is it not?”

Your harsh, unyielding tone was enough to shut him up and from the way, his the crease between his eyebrow had let up and eyes pointed at the ground, you understood you had set his mind working. The rumination was evident in his the trepidation of his feet and his hand wandered to rub the side of his neck. The deep furrow returned and his lips parted.

“Perhaps you should lie down,” suggested he in a hushed, hoarse voice and offered his hand. He too had been yelling, although now it was your turn and it took everything in him not to let the defensive anger get the better of him. If anyone was a worthy advocate of alcohol it was Negan, and being more than vaguely familiar with the substance you held by the neck, he too, knew of its effect thus where this bold truth originated from.

“Have I really figured you out, is that it? Are my presumptions fairly mistaken? Am I stubborn to make these accusations or am I stubborn to speak of them?”

“Y/N,” he spoke, warning you to not go on but you had him. You had him right where you wanted and this was the moment of truth where if not everyone would be exposed to his self, you would and perhaps that would earn you some respect.

That was at least if you did not get yourself relegated.

Then again the world was doomed and you could not care less; not in this befouled state in the least.

“Let’s clean you up and get you to bed, okay?”

When he went for your wrist, Negan was surprised when you lashed out for him, the bottle falling from your hand and spilling on the fine carpet beneath you. Nonetheless, with no problem, he managed to evade your wrath for at was slovenly and without aim and deriving from a maudlin woman rather than a determined one. When your imbalance pushed you to the ground, he was quick to catch you in his arms.

It was not until your eyes finally brought themselves to connect with his wide, concerned ones, you realized how pathetic you must appear to him. As if he had made an advantage or invaded your personal space, you shoved Negan off of you and wen to sit on the bed as you found it impossible to stand still while tall.

He repeated your name and your hands went to your head, eyeing the nauseating liquid soaked up by the carpet. Moaning out your brood, your back collided with the large bed. One of the several perks of being a wife.

What would you have done had it not been for Negan? You did not know, truly.

You probably would lie half eaten in a street somewhere, no pride, no consciousness, no brain. Would it be better than this? It was no joyous life compared to what you believed it ought to be, but you were alive, you were somewhat happy and you had a husband who showed appreciation for you. In spite he was not yours alone, he was indeed better than the one you had left in your previous life and had it not been for Negan, you would not have all this.

You would not even have the chance of getting carelessly drunk and albeit bringing you nothing but misery in your current situation, you understood he was doing he best. He might as well rid himself of you whenever you got difficult to deal with – and that certainly was a number of times – but he never did. Negan never considered doing so, for he enjoyed your company more than anyone’s—even now as you dug into his torn heart, practically bringing him to his knees as you pointed out the worst in him, he rather would be with you than another wife. You were not just a wife, you were the wife. You were his wife and when it came to it, you were proud to be just that.

Your cheeks were wet, you noticed just then.

“I’m not crying,” stated you, more for yourself than Negan.

You could hear him moving around in your room but you did not care enough to look up as you wiped your eyes.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I don’t cry.” You were insistent and whilst you knew as much as Negan that you had nothing to prove, you felt compulsory to convince yourself you were better than what you currently appeared to be.

Then you discerned how late it was must be for it was dark out – it had not been when you had begun drinking – and your throat was sore, from the yelling, from the crying, from the hard liquor.

“Leave.”

Negan placed the bottle he had collected from the floor on the top of your dresser, his finger brushing the red petal of a rose standing tall and lonesome in a vase as he craned his neck. “What?”

“Your presence is disturbing—I cannot think,” enunciate you, your voice sharp and snappy but laced with this slur.

Dismissive of your words, Negan sauntered around the dim room, cleaning up the mess you had made during the process of your pitiful rage. Going on and cursing his being as you were there in your bed, Negan blocked out your voice, hearing nothing but a buzz over the sound of his thoughts. None of it mattered anyway. At least no more than those other times you had made it clear how little you liked him. This time was only contrasting to the rest as he was merely taking it all in, agreeing with some to for you did seem to have him figured out. And though he hated that, even felt anger toward you for seeing right through him, he simply listened.

He did enjoy the control. Who wouldn’t? he thought and a point stuck to that. He was only dissimilar from the rest because he had been the one fierce enough to claim it. He had built his way through this horrific world, trotted down his path and killed to get to the top, he had made his name known. Now he had it and it was something to be savored.

“Lie on your side,” said Negan finally and you groaned out as if you had not just prayed he would respond to your insults. This was not the reaction you wished for, yearned even; your blood was boiling, you wanted his to do the same. You had been screaming at him, spilling your emotions in such a poignant sense. You were alone at this moment and to you, it was a vulnerable one.

“Stop telling me what to do.” Groaning, you shifted and tugged on the sheets around you. You eyes were fixated on the ceiling and the alcohol coursing your system enabled you to feel the rotation of the world. At least it felt like it while you were still on your back. “I’m not sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

You were right.

Only you were not well within your rights to point his insecurities out, bring him down like so and make him loathe himself. It was brutal to his ears, but not alien. You were delineating him immaculately.

Negan was also aware this was how you vented. In spite of never witnessing you like this, he understood it was how you vented. Through alcohol and brutal honesty and he related to that on an unhealthy level. Seemed you managed to withstand a tad more force, however, seeing as this must be your first tantrum compared to his several. He found a certain form of rescue in sex whereas you were softer than that, more delicate. He was not good at that, or solely not bosom with that which was why he figured you rather would be alone; cry this one out on your own.

“Do you want me to help you out of your clothes before I leave?”

Your head turned to the side, the rest of your body following the movement and you drew in a sharp breath. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Didn’t you just—”

“No, no,” whined you out and sat up against the headboard making a “thump” sound as it paralleled with the wall. “Just stay the night.”

He shifted and Negan’s tongue darted over his lips, clearing his throat as his feet carried him to the side of your bed. Studying your figure spread out, tears staining your cheeks, red beneath and puffy lips, his head tilted.

“You’re so difficult.”

“So are you,” responded you and broke a slight smile but hid it just as it aired.

“I never know where I have you,” Negan admitted and sat beside you, his hand sliding across the smooth silk but you moved away, your back turned on him but you made room for him to take up the space—an invitation.

“That’s because I’m not yours to have.”

But you were, you knew that, too. It was part of the deal, it was the reason for your well thriving.

“I respect you.”

It sounded like a confession, like words he should not have spoken but they did not slip. Negan did not acknowledge the fact because he needed to make anything up to you, not because you needed to hear that but because he realized that just then and there. And you were the only of his wives in which he respected, perhaps the only person in the Sanctuary that he respected the reason as to why were countless.

The shift in the bed indicated he was beside you, but he did not touch you. His breathing was heavy and soothing, and exhaling with a sigh you turned to face him and put your hand on his heart. Soon your breathing matched his and your eyes grew heavier, lids closing in on you only allowing you a final peak of his beauty before you were to drift off.

“I know you do.”

#negan #the walking dead negan #negan twd #twd negan #negan fanfiction #theplumsoldier #twd #jdm #jdm smut #negan smut #twd smut #twd negan smut #jeffrey dean morgan

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blookmallow · 4 years

Text

I FINALLY GOT SKYRIM MARRIED

i have a BEAUTIFUL WIFE

...who i went through a lot of shit for. this is. a lot of exposition, bear with me :’) im very invested in my character’s personal story here

so astrid had a very important special job for me and sent me to markarth to speak with the client directly

it turned out to be the apothecary’s assistant, who i was passingly familiar with already, so i imagine it was a bit of a surprise to both of us, but she got right to the point - a man broke her heart and ruined her life, used her to hurt the people close to her, abandoned her to go become a bandit, now she wants him dead

u can probably imagine where this is going,

this is the first time ive had a dark brotherhood job i was legitimately PSYCHED to carry out, you BET ill go fuck this guy up for you id do this for free

however, she also had... another request, one that wasn’t required, but something she really, really wanted

see she was very close with/practically another daughter to the shatter-shields in windhelm, the wealthy family who recently lost a daughter to the windhelm butcher

alain had manipulated her and used her to get to the shatter-shields, i dont remember if he stole from them or what happened there, but whatever it was, the shatter-shields blamed muiri for this and disowned her, throwing her out onto the streets with nothing

so she was used and had her heart broken by a man she loved, then was told it was Her Fault, and lost her home and her friends/the closest thing to family she had all at once, and was so hurt and desperate she turned to the dark brotherhood to get revenge on them all

she wanted me to kill nilsine too, the shatter-shields’ other daughter

SO we have this really complicated situation where, on the one hand, she wants alain dead for using her and ruining her life and hurting her friends, and like, he’s a bandit leader now, so he’s someone i probably would’ve easily killed off anyway, by “this is a video game not real life”/skyrim standards that’s a no brainer, i have no moral conflict with that and can’t wait to slash this guy’s head off

but on the other hand she’s so broken she wants a woman who used to be her best friend/practically her sister dead too. i dont know what nilsine’s role in this was specifically but these people were essentially her family, and they victim blamed her when she needed their support the most and threw her out with nothing and nowhere to go

and i had already done quests with the shatter-shields before this, so like, i know them too, and they’re sort of friends to me, i helped solve the mystery of their other daughter’s murder and now I’m being asked to kill the other. not to mention everyone’s going to think the butcher’s back/there’s a copycat killer/something and it’s gonna cause a panic again (even if the game doesn’t acknowledge that/directly show that happening, y’know)

killing someone’s daughter when they’re still in mourning over the first, when they’ve come to trust you, when you’re the one who helped them gain closure over that first death already, is just. a stone cold thing to do

especially looking at it from my character’s perspective, she’d be especially torn on this because she’s a mother herself, but her children are girls she rescued from the streets - lucia was thrown away by her family, sofie was a victim of tragedy and was let down by the people in authority who should have protected and helped her

so medea would relate to tova as a mother and a friend but also relate powerfully with muiri as a victim in this

ultimately i don’t think there’s any real justification to kill nilsine here, i dont think you can really morally defend that, but. i was so drawn to muiri and wanted so badly to give her a shot at a better life and help her heal from all this, and knew she would become a marriage option if i did it bc id seen her name on the marriage options list before, her story fits in so well with medea’s, and like, i dont imagine im gonna have a lot of options for wives who would Know about my connection to the dark brotherhood/the things ive done and be okay with it, so if i went with her, there wouldn’t be a “keeping this horrible secret from my wife” aspect to deal with even though the game probably doesn’t acknowledge it if you do (i mean im still. keeping it from my kids, but. y’know. when they’re older)

and “talk this out with her and help her see how badly her mind’s been warped by the pain she’s been through” isn’t an option given to you, so

in the end i went through with it. killing alain was easy, just like any other bandit camp raid, but to get at nilsine without being caught, i had to sneak into their house when the family was asleep

which i expected would involve a lot of careful sneaking and laborious lock picking

until i realized i could just walk right in

because the door was already unlocked for me. because they consider me a friend and allow me into their home

and that somehow made it so much worse

i killed nilsine with an arrow, nobody heard a thing, and i ran for it before anyone saw me in there or realized what had happened

muiri gave me a special ring as a “symbol of her affection” for doing this, which i think is about the biggest sign i coulda hoped for lmao

i held off on considering marriage for the time though and finally decided i had to go back to windhelm to see if there was anything i could do to make amends to the shatter-shields even though they shouldn’t know it was me/make sure i didnt get seen by a guard without realizing it or something (though it wouldn’t probably matter anyway, guards saw me leave the orphanage immediately after grelod’s death and shrugged that off, so,)

my name’s still clear in windhelm, but...

tova committed suicide after she discovered what happened

she couldn’t cope with losing another daughter

so now the father is the only one left, coping with. the death of his entire family occurring within like a couple months

i didnt see what happened here i came back later so i dont know if this is something you can possibly stop or if its possible to witness the moment they find nilsine or tova’s suicide or if this just Inevitably happens whenever you come back

i feel terrible about this but theres. not really any going back now,

so. i went back to muiri

i dont know if this is what everyone says or not but her response was just. “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I be” i love her lmao

i wouldnt choose to get married in riften if it was up to me but thats how it be in skyrim i guess

my babies are here!!!! what!!!!

and a. random guy i dont recognize lmao :’)

just wandered in to see what was going on i guess. or maybe we’re friends and i forgot who he is entirely which would be kind of sad :’ )

maybe it was my long lost father... slipped out before i ever had the chance to realize it

however i actually. ended up doing this scene twice because, fun fact, there’s a glitch where if you don’t manage to catch up to your spouse to talk about where to live before they leave the chapel they can just fucking Disappear sometimes, :’ ) i couldnt find her anywhere after the wedding and finally looked it up and apparently she just fell into the void so i had to reload and run it again. we’re double married now

planned better this time and dressed better but anyway that elf guy didn’t appear this time but some other guy did, who i ALSO cant quite identify, he looks. maybe. kind of like lucas valerian? who is actually a friend to me and was one of the first friends i made so it’d decently make sense for him to come to my wedding, but weird if he came and camilla didn’t, and im not even sure thats him anyway, so i dont know what happened here all around

muiri’s mentor lady came too though which was sweet

im spinning this kind of as... like, medea was so drawn to her and felt so strongly for her she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her and this was an eye opener for them both as a kind of. “look what kind of people we’ve let ourselves become” and their marriage as a new beginning, love coming from a place of desperation and darkness, starting over and hoping that the divines will forgive what they’ve done

medea’s not leaving the brotherhood but i mmmmmight try to be a little more careful about who i kill

i had intended for her to come live with me in markarth, she’s in on my. assassin life so having kind of this Other Side to my life made sense but... she met my kids at the wedding i guess and she wanted to live with them... which is really cute,

it feels really weird having this huge fancy house all to myself (and uh. argis, i guess) in markarth and having my wife and kids (and lydia, and a fox) all squished into the honestly kinda run-down whiterun house though i think im gonna work on getting the solitude house for them bc its. safer there than in markarth i feel like and ive heard thats like the fanciest/biggest house

there she is..... my Wife

she also sells things now but i feel bad accepting it when she gives me “my share” of the profit like.... babe thats your money i have so much adventuring money and i didnt do shit to help earn that,

i buy things from her sometimes but i refuse to sell her stuff bc i dont want to take any more of her money :’ )

even tho it. doesnt really matter, its video games, i know, but

found lucia, the fox, and muiri all on the bed at once

lydia was just standing like this for a rly long time after muiri moved in i guess she was suspicious but chilled out eventually :’)

gettin along finally

i just realized if we move to solitude lydia’s gonna get left behind though :(

i mean ill still come visit her but. upsetting

my one issue is that muiri still keeps saying “thank you for solving my-....problem.” every time i come in speaking distance of her which is. weird given that its the same line she had before we were married, like, she apparently doesnt get any new things to say, and is Really repetitive (imagine living in a small space with your partner and they say the same sentence with the same intonation every time you step within like 2 feet of them. how long til that gets old, do you think, ) and also its just like??? girl let that go we gotta stop dwelling on this or the kids are gonna start questioning what apparently massively important problem mommy solved

idk why she was laying on the floor but anyway my kids have started calling her “mama” now too and im not crying or anything

#lucy plays skyrim #this actually happened. a while ago but i forgot this post in my drafts bc i didnt want to deal with proofreading it lmao #Nobody Cares Except Me but my skyrim character's life is important business ok #i think im gonna marry sadri on my khajiit file eventually. he was like. my second choice/'If I Had To Pick A Dude'#and that way my dad will stop asking if my character's married anyone yet lmao i can be like o yea i married sadri #little does he know my main file is a woman with a wife and my male character's gonna have a husband. technically im not lying #hoping he wont ask to see how my house is coming along or anything lmao

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theolddarkmachine · 5 years

Note

Happy New year darling 🎉❤️🍾 thx for opening prompts. How about "Hold onto me" for sheith :D

New Year’s Prompts: Hold Onto Me

I hope you and @miyuki4s don’t mind that I combined your prompts. I had already planned on touching base on some post near-death stuff for @smartcookie727 so they just kinda fit! Consider this set in a s8 sans epilogue because some of the lines here REALLY FUCKING HURT if we consider it in s8 with epilogue lol im a sad bitch but im not that sad of a bitch my heart literally cant handle that. also please forgive me for tweaking the zethrid interaction a bit. again, imagine this is from a different s8 lol

Also on AO3

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The quiet dark of Shiro’s room is suffocating as it weighs heavy on his shoulders with the image of Keith clutched to Zethrid’s chest with a blaster pressed to his temple. Even then, staring down the barrel of his own death, he’d still stood proud and strong in a way that had torn Shiro apart.

Anger tore itself from his throat in a snarl as he dropped his head into his palms, fixing his gaze down at the floor of his room.

Sitting there now, he can still feel the curious looks of his crew as they’d returned back to the Atlas. Can feel the scores they’d left at his back as he’d pushed himself past without a word and marched to his room in search of a quiet place to fall apart.

He’d almost lost him again. It was just another knot in a growing string of near misses that felt as if it was leading Keith further and further away.

So Shiro escaped, leaving his teams to pick up the leftover pieces while he fell into his own.

What felt like hours past as Shiro searched through the spaces of his own convoluted timeline when he heard the soft sound of his door opening.

Even through the crushing despair, he felt the far off warmth the sound offered as there was only one other person with access to his room.

“Shiro?” Keith’s voice is quiet, a crackling fire to light the darkness as his near silent footsteps bring him closer to Shiro. He knows he should say something. Anything. But he can’t seem to push any words past the choking lump in his throat.

“Hey,” Keith tries again, his presence like a pleasant ache in Shiro’s bones as he stands before him. “Shiro, what’s wrong?”

Everything, he wants to say. Time and time again Keith had saved him. From alien beings. From the universe. From death itself.

Yet Shiro still hadn’t been able to do the same.

Not at Naxzela, as he’d watched helplessly, voice screaming to no one from the endless void as Keith had taken the nosedive toward a fiery end.

Not on Earth, as he’d watched from the Atlas with his shout stuck in his throat and his hands useless at the helm as the lions had fallen from the sky.

Not here, as he’d watched from mere yards away with his fear locking his limbs as the Galran pirate had clutched all he’d ever loved within her hands.

I’ll make you feel my loss, she had threatened without knowing that he’d already felt her loss in the narrow misses of the universe trying to tear Keith away. Every time Keith had fought back tooth and nail against odds and fate, but crushed beneath the weight of the lonely dark, Shiro couldn’t help but get caught on the thought of a next time where he wouldn’t.

Maybe even couldn’t.

Would Shiro still stand by idly, unable to break free of his own binds as the only light and stars he’d truly cared about was snuffed out?

Each and every one of his twisting thoughts escaped him on a broken sob and the tears that streaked his cheeks as he felt the soft brush of fingertips tilt his chin up. Even through the wet darkness, Shiro could still make out the sharp lines of Keith’s face, and the softened amethyst of his gaze.

Of all the dark universes, expanding stars and growing planets that Shiro had seen in the small eternity he could call his life, Keith was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Shiro,” he breathed again. It sounded more like a prayer than a question as he brushed the pad of his thumb across the wetness painting his cheek. Quietly searching, he waited for an answer with the sweet acceptance of someone who would also take his silence as enough.

But his silence was what had gotten him here in the first place, wasn’t it?

The static sound of quiet that kept him a prisoner, unable to do what he truly needed to do, and say what he truly needed to say.

“Hold onto me,” Shiro heard himself say through the voice of a stranger, brusque and broken, as he pled for forgiveness Keith didn’t even know he was asking for. It causes Keith pause, but only long enough to stretch the sound of a breath before he pressed an arm at the back of his neck and pulls him close.

Fingers, strong and gentle, carded through his hair in the form of divine absolution as Shiro lost himself the the feeling of Keith’s breaths beneath his cheek.

He’s alive, Shiro thinks to himself as he winds his own arms around the small of Keith’s back, reveling in the feel of his almost burning touch. Another sob wrenches his lips apart as his tears wet Keith’s undershirt.

“I’m here, Shiro,” Keith hushes, fingers working a soothing reminder of that very truth at the nape of his neck as he traced the line of his hair.

“I almost lost you,” Shiro manages to say, squeezing tight for just a moment just for the sole fact that he could. “I keep almost losing you and I can never seem to stop it from happening.”

The words cut his throat to ribbons as he feels Keith’s touch stall. They don’t stop coming as he turns his nose to trace a line against his stomach.

“Why can’t I save you? Why can’t I stop the universe from trying to snatch you away?”

Keith’s touch returns, still gentle but filled with determined intent as it drags a lines of fire along the back of his neck.

“Takashi,” his name on Keith’s lips skitters down his spine, leaving him razed by the breathy syllables. The burn of his fingertips tickles the line of his jaw as Keith traced it, only stopping long enough to gently press up.

Taking the hint, Shiro fixes his watery gaze upward, still nosing softly at Keith’s stomach.

His look is soft, mixed with a fondness he doesn’t deserve and Shiro feels his breath hitch.

Don’t go where I can’t follow, he wants to say around the the burning ache eating a hole in his chest. The words, much like everything else, find themselves trapped on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Keith soothes anyway, almost as if he can see the desperation that has filled Shiro’s veins with darkness. Drawing his touch back to his hair, Keith cards his fingers into the soft strands as Shiro turned back into the taut line of his stomach.

Don’t go where I can’t follow, he thinks again, pressing the question and all his mistakes to Keith’s skin in the form of a barely there kiss.

Keith’s voice is a guiding light in the dark.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

***

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #voltron #new year's prompts #is it reeeeealy a round of odm prompts if something doesnt get sad?#smartcookie727

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matazz · 3 years

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entries

diary entries of roy endoza

here’s some journal entries of roy endoza that i wrote for the duration of the campaign. for the most part, i kinda wrote these in my twitter drafts just to write down roy’s thoughts. sometimes to remember events that happened, and sometimes just to vent out roy’s feelings to myself. i ended up saving these on a document for safe keeping and i’m glad i wrote these.

‪entry 47‬

‪i miss milo so much. his laugh, his eyes, his smile. i would do anything to have that back.‬ ‪i know its my fault he’s gone. its only been a few months, but i’ll fix that; all of it. no matter how long it takes, no matter what happens. i’ll find some way to do it.‬ ‪entry 53‬ ‪i’ve retrieved a letter from a dream telling me to visit latham and retrieve a key. i’m curious, so i’ll check it eventually. it was definitely odd.‬ ‪entry 55‬ ‪i met a young boy. his name is fox. he’s some sort of shapeshifter. he’s quiet, but his presence is nice company. he also received a similar letter to mine. i have a feeling we’ll be travelling for a while.‬ ‪entry 62‬ ‪we retrieved the key & met some other ppl with letters too. we’re heading to a trinket store back in origin now. i dont wish for them to know of my life so i’ve found a way to steer them as far from possible to finding out about myself. i’ll probably visit ma too.‬ ‪entry 63‬ ‪an elf woman named leera attacked us after i told her i wasnt going to give her this key. i dont like her. she seemed very cocky.‬ ‪entry 65‬ ‪delilah is kind.. i feel like i’m able to trust her. i asked her a question about my goals, vaguely, and it turns out that ayce asked a similar question. based on the message in his later i get the feeling he’s undead.‬ ‪entry 66‬ ‪i told ayce the biggest con in all of history.. but i confirmed he’s undead. i have more hope in my goals now that i know its possible. he hugged me bc he thinks we’re similar. i dont usually allow people to do that but i’m sad for him. i wish i could ask more about him. ‬‪entry 69‬ ‪i’m getting closer to ayce, unexpectedly, but good for me. i need his information.‬ ‪he talks to me a lot about his life; i think he’s become dependent on me which is easy for me. its hard for him to see i’m using him when i lie to his face.‬ ‪entry 72‬ ‪we’re travelling to copper coast now for another key. if it werent for ayce, i wouldnt see any other reason for me to come. fox is still around, but i feel like he's doing his own thing. the other two arent big presences for me to care about.‬ ‪entry 73‬ ‪atlas is a werewolf? i didnt think those were real. this group keeps getting stranger. first a shapeshifter, second an actual living zombie, third a werewolf.‬ ‪ive continued my lie to the rest of them. they all seem to have believed me, strangely enough‬ ‪entry 74‬ ‪copper coast was very pleasant. i wish to come back someday.‬ ‪entry 88‬ ‪this trip to clandesteine has been a disaster.. what the honest fuck‬ just happened ‪entry 90‬ ‪fox told everybody about himself, finally. i feel this huge sense of pride?? i’m very proud of him. i dont understand why i feel so attached to him but i adore him so much‬ ‪entry 92‬ ‪((incoherent scribbles, kinda like “vsdjfsasifwnqkosdkv”)) i think i accidentally implied to ayce that i love him romantically and i think he loves me too... i’m freaking out and i dont know how to react... i think he thinks i’m cool and romantic but i didnt mean to be. ‪entry 93‬ in all honesty, i just wanted to tell him he needs to be more cautious of me. a part of me wishes he could figure it out himself so i dont have to tell him. ‪seriously! i dont know how i did that! i do love and adore him too but i feel like shit.. i dont deserve him, especially considering who i am. on the other hand, i hope he never finds out the truth about me.‬ ‪entry 94‬ ‪oh my god. atlas killed a man and ayce and fox proceeded to tell the guards. i feel sick. i’m currently at home but if they say my name at witness testimony i’m royally fucked. i dont know. i might just run for it and live in myr’s peak. maybe no one will find me.‬ ‪entry 95‬ ‪the group managed to get bailed out using ty’s name. benefits of being friends with rich people?‬ ‪fox found my poster though, so he saved my name during eyewitness testimony. i told him the truth. its been the first time i told someone how i really felt. he wants me to tell ayce but hes the last person i can tell. ‪entry 97‬ ‪we’re in lunarden! it feels nostalgic to be back.

i want to go back to every place i miss. i took ayce to that me and nori used to go to back in high school. i think shes currently performing in solardome? i miss her‬ entry 97.2 ‪i came up with a few different ways to complete my goal. i have a few more probing questions, but i will have to ask later. i think i’m getting closer to the answers‬ entry ‪97.3‬ ((scribbled out)) ‪i havent had sex in a while. i’ve wondered this before but realized it was an inappropriate question to ask. i wonder if ayce’s dick works? it probably doesnt. this is so sad. i dont know how i’m going to fuck him if thats true.. yikes‬ ‪entry 98‬ ‪i’m planning to get completely smashed once we get to solardome. i feel like i deserve it.. ive been pretty stressed and havent got laid. i’m crying remembering that ayce might not even be an option.‬ ‪entry 98.2 ((lost)) ‪i love ayce so much, and its confusing. am i just sexually frustrated? am i just lonely? am i just sad? i feel guilty because it tears me apart. im confused because i love milo still, too. i know i should tell him the truth, its whats right but i know he’ll hate me. i dont know what to do. (extra note inbetween the pages, torn out: to mom. i love you venhfrhdy mcuh. thank you fir everhything. yes. roy.) entry 98.3 what happens if i succeed? i hope ayce doesnt kill me. entry 100 ‪good morning. ayce & i are officially dating. were in solardome atm; i dont remember much of last night but i remember thinking he‘s beautiful. is it wrong to fall for him?‬ ‪entry 101‬ ‪good evening. i saw ms winters. she was undead, just like ayce. she died a year ago. her soul was lost though. i killed what remained of her undead corpse. i assume she was trying to remain in this world.. i’m scared that this will happen to him too. maybe ill have to do the same to him. entry 101.2 i hope ayce's soul is able to sustain in his body for longer. i cant afford to lose him. entry 101.3 ‪the blackness on my fingers has risen up more than it has before. its almost hard to write with my hands anymore. i assume its bc the gods know what i'm doing & are against it, so they're trying to give me more recoil than usual. but the last time i killed an undead corpse was in my house 6 months ago, and i promise that the last time i will use it is when i bring milo back. (torn note inbetween the pages: hi ayce. its unrealistic you'll ever find this but there's some things i want to say. back when we first met, i lied to you as a reflex when you asked me why i'm dealing with necromancy. to be honest, i could kind of gather you were undead, but i still lied anyway. my story is personal, its hard for me to be honest. i know i'm an idiot, and i'm sorry i used you. to be truthful, i still am a horrible person and for the entirety of our relationship i've already known that i was using you and i've felt so guilty about that. my feelings are complicated, but i've never lied when i said i loved you, and i still do; but i still want to bring milo back. i made a mistake and i want to fix that. the truth is that i still love him too. i know you deserve better. i'm sorry about lying to you. roy) entry 102 a dragon made us experience our dreams and nightmares. jade's scared of blindness and bugs. a valid fear, in a way. and she was dreaming of doing shows. i think it was supposed to display a feeling of happiness and joy, but it was just spooky since we all experienced her dreams with no sound. i never realized how scary it was to be deaf until i experienced it. atlas' was morbid. people were dying and there was so much gore. then there were people saying they owned him. i knew he was a bad person but it was scary to see all of that again. he dreamt of a workshop with a girl and a young boy. it seemed sweet, with a tinge of nostalgia. i would have never expected him to have dreams. he just seems like a horrible person with no sympathy to me, but i guess he has feelings. i still think he should go to jail, but i feel like he'll just try to kill me if i say anything instead. fox's was sad. we got thrown into a void

of empty space where we were surrounded only by dopplegangers and a vaguely humanoid figure. he seemed so lonely and upset. he's scared of being forgotten by us and that made me so sad. i adore him, and he's grown a lot since we first met. i gave him a hug when we went into his dream sequence. i hope he knows i will never forget him. his dream was sweet. he just wants to save people and hang out with us still. i think he'll go far, and i would love to be there for him still when all of this is over.c (the rest of the pages with entry 102 are torn out) when i saw milo in the old house again just being his happy lovely self i felt miserable and happy at the same time. i love him so much, and i knew i missed him already but seeing him again just made me feel so much love for him all over again. it just makes me miss him more. it's hard not to cry thinking about what i've done to him. i wish he could come back. ayce's was hard to watch. i witnessed myrkul force ayce to choose between killing me and quri. ayce cried as he couldn't make up his mind, and then i watched as i fell into a void. i felt sick and i wanted to puke. i thought ayce found out about me. i thought he knew that i was using him for necromancy, but when i asked him about it, he told me that he thought i killed him with quri. i... personally don't have any reason to ever kill him so that was a bit sickening to think of. i dont ever want to kill anyone. i dont even have anyone i hate enough to want to murder. the only person i hate enough to want to kill is me. i know based on what i said before i guess it might have seemed that bad; but haha... i would never ever want to do that. putting people down at hospital was rough. god, putting ms winters down was rough and she was already dead. i love him, but it's probably better if we end the relationship and just stay as friends? he's already witnessed me still loving milo, and he thinks i murdered him... i'll try to clear up his misunderstanding, but it'll be hard to without giving more of myself away. this relationship has so many problems. entry 103 a new discovery. the world isn't flat? the god's are using their powers to “lock off” the rest of the world. apparently sanctuary is only a small part of the world. that was a really weird discovery to find out? it's kind of hard to believe, but at the same time, not. apparently they keys we've been collecting hold the respective power of the gods, and they're used to “open” the gateway. i have no idea what that means. apparently beshaba wants to use our keys to do exactly that. and also they can kill the god's? entry 112 when we came back to lunarden we discovered that delilah and allen were kidnapped by atlas’ syndicate. i knew atlas was trouble. i hate having to associate with him. we’re going to save them yet it makes me nervous. entry 114 i feel like i almost died in there. we saved the others and no one was hurt though. we’re going to trip back to lunarden and then travel through the travel gates back to origin to try avoid people. allen mentioned something about strange readings. i have a feeling i know what it is. i’m going to ask lathandar questions. entry 115 nvm we encountered leera. this group genuinely scares me. I’m travelling with people who are down with murder. i should seperate. she uncovered my posters to them and i want to die. she also mentioned the last key at a ball. i need to bounce. lathandar also confirmed my suspicions last night. entry 116 fox left before i could. i feel bad. like maybe it was my fault. i miss him. we have to continue though. entry 117 its so hard to find a bag of holding. i just want to have this spirit stone around without having it in the open. entry 118 we’re in origin now and delilah let me rent out her bag of holding. an absolute kind soul. we bought tickets to the ball. so expensive. i wish i didnt do that. entry 123 i’ve done so much in preperation of whats to come. Soon. i hope it works. i’m going to travel to solardome and investigate those readings. entry 124 suspicions

confirmed. miss winters is alive. she captured my biological father. a strange way to meet him. i cant see him as my father. i told her about the key, and we’re going to rearrange our circle. we’ll still use the spirit stones, just as a backup. i’m scared. i’m terrified. i dont know if it will work and i dont know what will happen if it does. i know the gods will be mad but i’ll deal with the consequences when it happens. i’m sure i won’t be a champion anymore. we’re doing this on friday evening, which means i’m no longer attending the gala. they don’t need my assistance anyway.

#roy endoza writing #roy endoza #writing

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killmongerdreams · 7 years

Text

angel on fire

Summary: Your job was supposed to be simple: watch over Steve Rogers. Never did it occur to you that someone else would attempting to corrupt him. || demon!bucky x angel!reader || oneshot (?)

Warnings: smut and all that entails it ends kinda abruptly though, shitty ending, cursing, mentions of blood/violence, dub consent(??????), overuse of the name angel

Notes: @sanjariti helped me with the title lol, its from a halsey song, im sorry this is terrible

“He saw darkness in her beauty, and she saw beauty in his darkness.”

The job seemed simple enough at first – watch over Steve Rogers and keep his soul on the path of good. It didn’t seem all that hard to you, seeing as the guy had a heart made of gold. Sure, he attracted fights like a flame attracted a moth; maybe he was a little too strongly opinioned on certain topics, but Steve Rogers was a passionate, fiercely loyal man who strived to make the world a better place as best as he could. You’d been on the Earth for a very, very long time – lived so many lifetimes and assumed so many identities that you’d lost count - but you’d never seen a man like Steve Rogers.

You thought it’d be smooth sailing watching Steve Rogers, but boy, you were wrong.

Never once did it occur to you to think about the fact that someone might be trying to corrupt him.

His name was James, and he was sinfully attractive.

The first time you met the demon – the King of Hell himself, to be exact – he was standing outside the apartment you acquired for the time being, leaning beside the door with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette hanging from his pretty lips. His eyes were gleaming pools of black as he glared at you.

“Do tell why a patron of your…status is slumming it in a rundown apartment building on the less than savory side of Brooklyn?” he simply raised an eyebrow at you. You leaned against the opposite wall, cocking your head to the side as you studied him. Honestly, he was nothing you expected him to be. You were banking on the King of all things sin to be an ostentatious, grandeur, well-put together ruler who wore nothing but lavish suits, not a man who looked like he just rolled out of bed after a week of consecutive, nonstop partying. His hair was too long to be dignified, tied into a knot at the base of his neck. He was wearing a plain white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off his Mark. The blood-red brand shone proudly against the skin of his forearm. The hilt of an angel blade stuck out of his front pocket of his dark, unbelievably tight jeans, an unsubtle way of reminding you of how dangerous he could be.

“I don’t see why it’s any of your concern, filth,” you sneer at him. The bastard merely smirks at you, unaffected by your obvious disdain for his presence.

“You see, babe,” your eyes narrow at the nickname and he grins like a jester, enjoying your annoyance like a kid in a candy shop. He points to the door you’re standing next to, voice accusing when he says, “You’re living right across from Steve Rogers.”

You have two options: either lie about knowing that the possible prodigal savior is your neighbor or come clean as to why you’re living in the middle of a demon-infested neighborhood. Now, being an angel, most would expect you to tell the truth. You simply shrugged, “Are you talking about the blonde guy? Steve’s his name? He’s sweet, helped me bring in boxes the other day.”

“You know damn well what else he is, babe,” a snarl pulled at his lips, all traces of the unaffected ruler gone. He stubbed this cherry of his cigarette out on the palm of his hand, tossing the half-smoke butt to the floor before he crowded you against the wall, hands on either side of you. He dipped his head, lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t think you can save him,” his voice was low, breath hot on your skin. It made a shiver run through your body, your blood boiling with the closeness of him. “He’ll be ours. Our weapon to wield, to slaughter all you holy little pests.”

With a dark laugh, he pushes away from you. He winks. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, babe. I’ll see you later.”

And then he’s gone with a snap of his fingers.

You see him again about two weeks later, in an abandoned warehouse turned sleazy nightclub – Hydra, you hear it’s called.

“I didn’t know angels were capable of looking sinful,”

This time, his eyes are blue, almost shining grey with how pale the hue is. They slide over your body, taking in the skin-tight, risqué ensemble you’ve picked out for the evening. You’re clad in a crimson red dress that absolutely clings to your body, the neckline plunging low enough between your breasts that it exposes your bellybutton.

“I had to blend in,” you shrug your shoulders, kinking an eyebrow at him. The bastard’s dressed in white. How ironic.

“I suppose we’re here for the same reason,” James nods toward the blonde sitting at a table in the back, whom of which is chatting up a pretty brunette woman. You ignore the demon, eyes peering around the place curiously, taking in the bright lights and the sexy atmosphere. You’d never actually been to a place like this before. “Want to dance, angel?”

You cast a glance to the dance floor, taking in the sweaty, too-close bodies swaying against one another. That type of dancing was indecent at best, a felony at worst. “No.”

“Why not?” he was the audacity to look offended, lower lip jutting out in a pout. He steps closer to the barstool you’re on, stepping between your legs. Now, if you weren’t in such a public place, you’d break his own glass over his head. You couldn’t do that, because Steve couldn’t know you were here. “Dance with me, angel.”

He sets his drink on the counter, hands falling to settle on your knees. The touch is electrifying, to say the least, skin almost burning against yours. You wonder if it’s because you’re two completely different beings, your divinity trying to repel his damnation. “Dance with me,” he repeats.

“No.” the word didn’t exactly come out as strong as you wanted to. But nonetheless, James straightens up, hands sliding smoothly into his pockets.

“Okay, angel,” he takes a step back, eyes flashing dark before he gives you a crooked smile. “I’ll see you later.”

He quite literally disappears into thin air. You almost mourn his absence.

The third time you see him, almost a month later, he’s broke in to your apartment. You find him on your couch, black blood oozing from his body in a number of places. He looks barely conscious, black eyes dropping and mouth ajar in pain. His breathing is shallow, ragged as he coughs around the blood in his lungs. “Angel,” he croaks.

You don’t move, staring at the King of Hell’s broken form blankly. You could kill him, right here and right now, take your blade to his throat and end him once and for all. You wouldn’t have to worry about him corrupting Steve, the savior. You could watch over him and live peacefully and not have to worry about the demon interfering.

“Angel,” he reaches a hand out, gritting his teeth together.

You don’t know what compels you to move, but the next thing you know you’re kneeling beside the couch, assessing his body for injuries. His shirt is torn to pieces, letting you see the wounds decorating his torso. The handle of a Christ dagger is shoved right underneath his ribs, searing the skin around it.

You realize why he came to you. He can’t touch it without it causing him more pain. Christ daggers were forged from vibranium, sigils inscribed on the metal to make it impossible for a demon to touch. Only angels and humans could. So as long as it stayed imbedded in James’ body, he couldn’t heal, couldn’t use any of his powers to fend for himself.

Your hands wrap around the hilt, accidentally pushing the weapon in further. He bites back a scream, adam’s apple bobbing in what you recognize as fear.

It would be so easy, so easy to just kill him.

You don’t know why you pull it from his skin, instead. “The stains better be gone by morning.”

When you appear from your bedroom the next morning, there’s a brand-new dark blue couch sitting in your living room, the old, blood-soaked couch nowhere to be seen. Besides the new furniture, the only trace of James is left by a note on the table, elegant handwriting scribed across the paper in blood red ink.

I never figured that I’d be in the debt of an angel. Thank you. – James

For some reason, you spend the rest of the day with a smile on your face.

There are a few human indulgences that you find yourself enjoying. Coffee is one of them. You’re sitting at a table in the back of Marvel’s Coffee House, something called a caramel macchiato sitting in front of you. Steve’s sitting not too far away from you, attention immersed in whatever he was sketching. You’ve learned that Steve could sit at Marvel’s for hours, so you’ve taken the initiative of bringing a book with you this time, Tolstoy’s War and Peace.

“’People have eternally been mistaken and will be mistaken, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong,’” you look up at the voice of the quote, watching as James slides into the seat across from you, large hands cradling his own cup of coffee.

“Never would’ve pegged you to be a fan of classic literature,” you mutter snidely. “I thought your only hobbies were bleeding out on someone’s couches and bartering for souls, maybe a little bit of whoring yourself out here and there.” Your snarky attitude makes him smile, pink lips curving up at the edges.

“There’s a lot about me that would surprise you.” he shrugs. You raise an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘like what?’ and he laughs, pulling a handful of Hershey’s kisses out of his jacket pocket. “I’m a sucker for chocolate.”

The rest of the time is spent just talking, your book long forgotten as you drink your coffee and share chocolate with one another.

The next time James is in your apartment, you think he’s on a mission to kill you. He bursts through the door with an angel blade clutched tight in his hand, eyes inky pools of hatred. He’s got his free hand around your throat before you can even think to grab a weapon, pinning your body against the wall so hard it cracks the plaster. “You fucking killed them – every last one of them,”

“It was either kill or be killed. You know how it goes.” you can’t help the smirk that graces your lips. You should be scared. You should be absolutely terrified. You should be shaking with fear, but instead you can feel your body simmering with heat, your stomach tightening in a feeling you don’t recognize.

“I should kill you, angel.” there’s a sadistic smile on his face as he tightens his hold around your throat, and you can feel the fire in your blood grow stronger. Your knees almost buckle at the pressure. “I have another idea, though.”

“What are you going to do?” you gasp around his fist, the words coming out breathier than you intended, “Torture me?”

“Something like that,” he chuckles darkly, removing his hand. The angel blade drops to the floor with a muted thud and it takes everything in your willpower not to flinch. “Show me where your room is.”

“Why?” the slap he lands to your face has you tasting salt. He pouts at you, mocking your pain as he swipes away the blood trickling down your chin.

“I don’t want to hurt you, angel, but if you don’t listen, I will.” his voice is quiet, almost hypnotizing as he gazes down at you. “Show me.”

You don’t know how it happens but James gets you naked, spread out across your bed for his eyes to ogle.

“Tell me, angel, have you ever been touched by another?” he trails his fingers over your skin, and the shiver that runs through your body can’t be controlled. You don’t answer him, eyes wide as saucers as you stare at him. He growls at your silence, smacking your thigh hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “If I ask you a question then I expect an answer. Have you ever been touched by another?”

“No,” your voice sounds small and he smiles at that, gingerly smoothing his palm over where he hit you.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he pushes your thighs apart with a grin, exposing the most intimate part of you. Shame flashes through your body and you whimper, trying to close your legs and twist away from him. Holding your legs open, he brings his hand down, slapping your cunt harshly. You cry out, back arching into his half-clothed body.

You’re at his mercy. Embarrassment washes over you when you realize that you like it, that you want it.

“Answer my question, angel, before I have to hit you again.”

“N-no,” you whisper, “I’ve never touched myself.”

He rewards you with a series of kisses to your neck. He’s gentle, all lips and tongue, and it makes you relax, body almost melting into the bed. “That’s it, angel, just relax. I’m going to take care of you.” His voice is so soft, dare you say sweet, and you just want to close your eyes and listen to him all night.

“James.” he looks up when you whisper his name, takes in your pleading face and watery, hazy eyes. He decides he likes that look on you, but he also knows he’ll like it even more when you’re thoroughly taken apart, completely debauched.

“What do you want, angel?” he asked, watching as you bit down on your lip, thinking. He’s patient with you this time, letting you sort out your desires slowly. This is new to you; you’re going to want to think a little bit more.

“Kiss me.”

If your request surprises him, he doesn’t let it show. That annoying smirk you’ve come to adore flitters across his lips before he’s slanting them over yours in a messy, filthy kiss. A possessive sort of pride flushes through him at being the first to taste you like this. He’s the first to have you whimpering in need, hands pulling on his messy mane as he slides his tongue over yours.

He’s going to be the first to take you.

James feels like he’s on fire. His skin simpers with heat, burning him from the inside out as he rocks against you. Your hands slide down his back, searing his flesh. It hurts – it hurts to be touched this intimately by an angel, but fuck it all, he can’t stop. He enjoys the pain, enjoys how it mixes with his pleasure. He’s nearly drunk with the feeling.

When his fingers skim across your folds, you keen. The noise takes you off guard and you wrench away from him, titling your head away as your eyes squeeze closed in mortification. James chuckles, nuzzling underneath your jaw. “It’s alright, angel.” he murmurs, “Make as much noise as you want.”

He watches your face intently as he explores, gathering the wetness pooling at your entrance. With wide eyes, you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, tongue curling around them as he tastes you. “That’s filthy.” there’s a blush staining high on your cheeks as you stare at him, pupils as large as they can be, nearly obscuring all the color they held.

“Oh, angel, you haven’t seen filthy yet.” The grin he gives you is your only warning before he’s ducking his head, tongue sliding against your taint. You two moan at the same time – yours high-pitched and needy, his low and feral, a sound coming deep from his gut.

James licks a broad stripe through your folds, swirling around your clit with enough pressure to have you dizzy with pleasure. The moans that spill from your mouth without restraint, growing louder with each passing moment. There’s a knot forming in your stomach, tightening to the point it’s almost overwhelming. “James,” you’re begging, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you cry out. “What’s-?” you cut yourself off with another lewd moan, as he slides a finger into you.

“Just relax, baby.” he soothes, “Let it happen.”

He seems to work harder, tongue focusing on that tiny bundle of nerves with fervor, finger thrusting into you slow and deep. He adds another one before curling them, stroking shallower and a little rougher. He presses against something that has you nearly screaming, hips bucking to push yourself harder against his mouth. “There it is.”

Before long that knot inside you finally breaks and your vision goes white, pleasure and heat zooming through your body to send you into a state of euphoria. You don’t know how long it takes you to come back to yourself but when you do, James is leaning on his side, one hand propped up to hold his head while the other strokes your hip gently. His eyes are that pale color again, shining with smug satisfaction as he gazes at you.

“Who knew sinning could feel so divine?”

You’re sat astride his hips, fingers gently tracing the contours of his muscles, looking between where your touching and his face, watching for his reactions. His eyes had long since turned dark again, too consumed with finding his end. Your fingers leave a red, scorching trail across his skin, no matter how lightly you touch him. He seems to enjoy it – the way you burn him. The longer you explore, the more impatient he becomes, hips titling up to grind against you. “C’mon, angel, ‘m getting impatient here.” his hands clamp down on your hips, pressing you harder against him with a quiet moan.

“I’m nervous.” you admit quietly. He sighs, jaw clenching in frustration.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want.” It seems like the words pain him to say, but he lets you go, hands falling slack by his sides. You’re surprised that he’s sacrificing his pleasure for your comfort, even when he already brought you to orgasm. You figured he’d be adamant on equal participation, a tit for tat sort of thing. You always expected him to take what he wanted, yet here he is, willing to let you go.

Seems the Devil has a heart after all. Who would’ve known?

“I want to,” it’s a quiet confession, one that makes your heart race. Oh, if only your brothers and sisters could see you now, giving your virtue to the man who could destroy the world. You’d be stripped of your wings, thrown into purgatory, maybe even killed. “Take me, James.”

You can’t find it in yourself to care.

TAGGING:

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#sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #marvel smut #demon!bucky #demon bucky barnes

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nationalharmonica · 7 years

Text

untitled angst (im suffering squirtle)

Fandom: Pokemon BW(2) Word count: 2968 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR FUTURE NUZLOCKE???, Ghetsis is a remorseless asshole, Someone give N a blanket, Someone give Touya a blanket, There’s one (1) OC who is literally a Tuxedo Mask, Ghetsis doesn’t give a fuck that this is supposed to be a Black 2 verse, I don’t give a fck about typos

—

It was illogical. Impossible. No matter how he thought around it, no clear resolution came to his mind. Yet there it was, that round white stone he remembered so very vividly from two years prior, in the grasp of the man he used to call a father.

“Where did you get that?” His voice came out strangely strangled, like a hand was clamping around his throat, making it almost impossible to speak. His mind was a jumble, blurry memories and emotions churning in his mind and making him dizzy.

Ghetsis tossed the Light Stone lightly. He hummed in his throat as he tapped his cane onto the rocky floor. Looking upon N, he decided he rather liked the confused and betrayed expression on his face, even if it did remind him of the day his delicate plans were ruined by a couple of children.

The stupid boy, who he had raised to be a leader, choosing friends over the very values he had ingrained into him since the day he plucked him out of that godforsaken forest. The thought made him sour to the core. ‘Ungrateful brat,’ he thought, ‘Thinking himself superior for choosing his own destiny.’

“You should know where I got this, little urodets,” Ghetsis remarked, pointing his cane at N. “Your eyes do not deceive you for once. This is indeed the same Light Stone you fought against two years ago.”

“Don’t call me that.” N gritted his teeth at the old nickname, having since learned its true meaning. A freak of nature, something he had tried so hard to remove from his identity, tried so hard to not let affect him anymore. He of all people knew how abnormal he was, he didn’t need a reminder. “Where did you get it? Did you steal it from them?”

N said no name yet it was obvious who he meant. Those two trainers, the first humans he considered as friends, and the ones to show him he had been wrong about the world. Ghetsis smirked when he realised N had no idea what he was implying by bringing the Light Stone here.

“Revenge is so sweet, don’t you think?” He closed his eyes as he revelled in a memory from a while back; a snowy tundra in which a dark shape lay in the slush. Remembering gave him a surge of satisfaction throughout his entire body. “That exhilaration when you finally achieve your own justice. It’s a pity how quickly things can disappear, though.”

He opened his eyes to give a sharp and malicious glare. “That boy really did put up a fight, you know. Took out several of my Pokemon. I returned the favour, of course. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I froze his heart and watched him die in the snow.”

His words shook N to the core. He barely noticed when his legs gave out beneath him, forcing him to his knees. His body went numb, hardly hearing the concerned cries of Nate and Rosa. They sounded like he was underwater, and he felt unable to breathe like he was drowning. He could hear the soft pat-pat as the tears he didn’t even realise he was crying fell onto the dusty floor.

It wasn’t true. It can’t be true. No way. Just, no way would Touya let himself be killed like that, he told himself. He took a shaky breath and he forced himself to speak. “Y-You’re lying. Just like you’ve always done. Why would you say something like that?”

Ghetsis seemed not to care at his disowned son grovelling on the floor. Instead, he held up the Light Stone towards Kyurem. “Oh really, urodets? Do you really think I would bother lying to you anymore? I have no more need to deceive you, since I have nothing to gain from you.”

The Light Stone hovered off his hand and in front of Kyurem. Reshiram would not be able to burst from its confines without its Hero present, and Ghetsis took his time retrieving the DNA Splicers from inside his robes knowing that. “That infernal trainer died because I wished it so. And good riddance, he would’ve been a pain.”

“Stop it!” N clutched his head in pain, hot tears continuing to spill down his cheeks as he began to break into hysterics. “You'relyingyou’relyingyou’relyingYOU’RELY-”

“Oh for Arceus’ sake, boy! Shut your mouth for once in your miserable life!” Ghetsis sharply cut off N’s rambling chant, clearly irritated by his voice. He held the Splicers up to Kyurem also, watching it as it transformed into a device that would anchor it and the Light Stone together. “You’ve lived in fantasies too long, boy. Let me show you the true reality.”

Light filled the room as Kyurem absorbed the Light Stone and transformed. Taking upon the characteristics of Reshiram, the breath it exuded was so cold it burned the skin. It let out an ear-shattering cry that echoed off the cave walls, making the two trainers flinch. N, too far gone in his misery, did not flinch at all as he was hit head on with the screech.

As a matter of fact, N was truly already facing reality, as a flood of memories invaded his mind that he had locked well away a long time ago.

Misty windows and a cup of hot chocolate as he sat in the Pokecenter of a frozen town. Zekrom had retreated into a Pokeball, despite N’s protests, in order to escape the cold. Cries of concern echoing through the door.

“A body’s been found!”

“Someone get Nurse Joy!”

“The poor dear, he was so young.”

A person on a sleigh covered by a jacket was brought into the center. Clearly dead, and Nurse Joy pulling back the jacket to reveal a face he knew too well. Blue lips and glassy eyes frozen into an expression of pure contempt. Brown hair that used to bounce so softly now hung solid with snowflakes. They found nothing to identify him but N didn’t need them to.

He couldn’t remember what happened next, and a flush of white rushed over him. He had chosen not to remember, he realised. He had chosen to forget that Touya had died alone. He had chosen sweet ignorance over reality again, even after he had promised his first friends that he would never live a lie anymore.

N felt disgusting. A cold sweat broke out as his hands grew clammy. He felt like he had betrayed everything he had stood for since he reformed himself two years ago. Spending all this time telling himself that he’d find those two himself, never realising one was dead and the other still promptly missing. A sob racked his body as the magnitude of the loss hit him for the second time. One of his first friends was gone, and he had decided to ignore it. The thought made him hide his face in shame. He truly was just a freak.

Ghetsis paid no mind to him as he marvelled in his creation. Four metres of malicious cold energy packed into a dragon-shaped weapon. With a flick of his cane, he turned its attention to the weeping man. “Kyurem, dispose of this trash.”

Kyurem gave another deafening screech and gathered energy in its mouth. When N gave no indication of moving out of the way, Rosa made to run to him but was pulled back by Nate. “Rosa it’s too dangerous!”

“N, move or you’re going to die!” Rosa ignored Nate in favour of yelling at N. She could feel tears spilling over as he acted like he couldn’t even hear her. She ripped her arm away to charge at N. Her nimble size did nothing to budge him when she grabbed him. She tugged on his shoulders to no avail. “N, please! We need to move!”

N removed his hands from his face to show his palms were wet. “No… No… I deserve this… I betrayed them, after everything they did for me. I don’t deserve anything else.”

“ROSA!” Nate panicked from the side, torn between the cowardly instinct to stay put and his loyalty to his friends. “Rosa, please! You need to get out of the way!”

“Not without N! This is wrong, all of this is wron-” She was cut off when another cry from Kyurem signalled its intention to fire. A sharp shove to her chest knocked the breath out of her as she fell to the side several metres away. N had just pushed her away. She scrambled to her feet and made to run at him again when Kyurem finally released its energy.

“N!” She yelled, so loudly her voice was coarse in her throat. The force of the blast knocked her back again as it rushed past her, wind blowing her pigtails into her face. N was completely enveloped in the cold light Kyurem shot. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying and tasted blood in her mouth.

Nate swooped to Rosa’s side, helping her up and away as the blast died down. He didn’t know what to expect, maybe a pile of ashes, and his heart felt heavy as Rosa cried into his shoulder.

What he did not expect was for N to be entirely intact, shielded by a cloaked figure that looked like they were struggling to stay on their feet. Their arms and torso were burned by the ice cold, clothes burned away making it obvious they were a man. The golden mask he wore splintered into pieces and cascaded off his face to clatter onto the floor where a kind of dark energy congealed around the pieces, revealing green eyes.

It was the mysterious person who had appeared before them so many times before. And now his identity was known as he lowered his arms to show a soft round face speckled with brown freckles on his pale skin. It was a face none of them had seen before, but Ghetsis showed that he did.

Ghetsis regarded the man with contempt, sneering as he panned down to loom at the discarded mask fragments. “You, I remember you.”

The man struggled to catch his breath and his eyes flashed with a kind of hate. He didn’t meet Ghetsis’ gaze as he unfastened the cloak he wore, gathering the mask pieces into it before swaddling it and holding it close. “I hope you do, Ghetsis. I’m one of those you’ve wronged.”

“Oh I know plenty of those. Rather, I remember you as Hydreigon food that escaped.” Ghetsis regarded the bundled cloak with disgust. “Along with that.”

N seemed to finally realise he was, in fact, not dead, and looked up at the mysterious man that had just taken a legendary attack full force. The man seemed to notice eyes on his back and turned to face him. “Hi, name’s Maverick. I’ve heard a lot about you N, especially about how much of an ‘ass’ you are. No offense.”

N was befuddled at this Maverick person speaking to him so informally, like he had known N for years. “Uh… none taken? I guess?”

Maverick chuckled at his awkward reply before becoming stone-faced again as he turned back to Ghetsis. “I’m here to stop you.”

“Never heard that one before. What are you going to do, Maverick? You’ve got nothing but a beat up Yamask to fight with.” Ghetsis poked his cane towards the bundle he held. Of course, Nate thought, the golden mask did look like the masks he had seen Yamasks carry around while exploring Relic Castle.

Maverick put the bundle on the ground with some difficulty, complimenting the Yamask within on his good work. Standing back up, he got into a fighting stance. “Well it was never my intention to fight with Pokemon. Instead, I intend to fight you directly, unless you’re too much of a coward to face me by yourself, old man.”

“I hardly see reason to waste my time dealing with a hard-headed brat like you. Kyurem, away with these two as well.” Kyurem seemed exhausted from its last attack, instead choosing to charge forward with a physical attack instead. Maverick abandoned his stance and snatched up the cloak, making to grab N’s arm too before Kyurem twisted around almost impossibly for a beast its size, whipping its tail to catch him in the back. All three of them well flung against the wall.

N struggled for breath as it was knocked out of him and Maverick clutched the bundle to his chest as he he collided with the rocky wall, clearly winded as well. Maverick was the first to catch his breath. “H-Holy… fuck. That hurts…”

He handed the bundle to N as he still tried to breathe. N seemed confused by the sudden parcel. Maverick merely smiled and got to his feet shakily. “Don’t look so surprised. He’s been waiting for you for a while.”

He turned to the two trainers still at the side of the cave. While ripping off the tattered remains of his shirt, he gestured to N. “Hey you two! Care you remove these guys? I’ll make sure Kyurem doesn’t kick your ass.”

Unsurprisingly, Rosa was the first to jump up, followed quickly by Nate, and the two seized an arm each and marched N out of the way. Meanwhile Kyurem growled in anticipation as Maverick walked forwards and taunted the dragon. Letting out a cry, it charged at him again. This time he was prepared and dodged the attack skillfully, flipping over the sweeping tail and running to the other side of the cave with the beast hot on his heels.

N was plopped down on a rock in the tunnel of the cave, the other two trainers exhausted at dragging his unwilling body. He pondered on what Maverick had meant by ‘he’. Curiously, he undid the bundle and watched the mask pieces clink onto the rocks. Yamask masks resembled a face, he remembered. But he had no idea what happened to a Yamask when they mask was shattered. The dark goop that clung to the pieces were likely the remains of the Pokemon.

He inspected the pieces, and found some characteristics of it quite familiar. From the sprinkle of faint freckles etched onto the nose, to the thin lips he was sure he had seen smile before. A rush of hope coursed through him, and he hurried to organise the pieces while Nate and Rosa looked on confused.

Piece by piece, he connected the pieces of the mask, and more features became shockingly familiar. Close knit and thick eyebrows almost always in a perpetually frowning angle, closed eyes that he knew the colour of, even the hair that always fell onto his cheeks. A drop appeared on one of the pieces and made N realise he was crying yet again. The circumstances were very different though, and he let out a sob as the final piece went into place, showing the face that had given him so much love and pain.

“….Touya?” N barely got the name out, but the coagulated black mess quivered at the name. It seeped into the cracks, holding the pieces together as they melded into a whole again. It wasn’t perfect, and faint lines showed where the cracks had been, but the mask was whole again, and the darkness retreated underneath its dome.

N put a finger underneath the mask, and was astonished when he felt something grab onto it. The darkness burst out from beneath the mask, forming a corporeal body that opened wide red eyes. Yamasks always looked like they were crying, but this one was very literally doing so as red liquid tears pattered onto the mask it held. “N, you goddamn idiot.”

N had never been more thankful for his ability in his whole life. He made a strange noise in his throat as he grabbed the small Pokemon and hugged him, feeling the Yamask hug him back with a kind of fervour that had him slightly nervous. Pulling back he regarded the Pokemon with his face between his hands. “I thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, unfortunately.” Touya acted like like N had asked him a stupid question, as if it wasn’t totally obvious he was a Ghost Pokemon. Touya was about the let off another snarky remark when N embraced him again, planting kisses all over his ghostly face. If he could blush, Touya probably would have. “I-I think maybe you should explain! You’re getting weird looks!”

N looked away to see Rosa positively beaming with happiness while Nate looked rather confuzzled. Touya didn’t blame them; they just saw a human basically making out with a Pokemon, and even as strange as N was, he didn’t think he was exempt from judgement.

N cleared his throat and wiped his face. “Oh, uh… This is Touya. He’s one of the trainers I mentioned, well was, I guess.”

“Ass, I still have my memories, you know.”

“And um, I really liked him? And now I feel awful because all this time you were a Pokemon and I believed you were still alive.” N looked away, ashamed. Touya huffed and patted one of N’s cheeks with his hand.

“Never mind that. I don’t blame you at all.” Touya declared. N looked taken aback by Touya’s forgiveness, and his eyes grew misty and he hugged him again.

“TOUYAAAA!!” N sobbed, giving the ghost more smooches. Touya struggled to escape his arms and resorted to hiding in his mask again. N instead gave the mask kisses and Touya turned metaphorically red within it.

Nate cleared his throat. “Well this is kind of awkward to witness. Who wants to go verse an abominable dragon?”

“Nate! They’re adorable be nice.” Rosa wished she had a camera right now.

#this is... unfinished #but as far as im going #the rest is just the usual canon shit

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