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hyuuukais · 8 months

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.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWO • NEW LIFE (1.6k)

"Café guy?"

How is his number already in your contacts? And what cafe? The only place you could think of was the one chain coffee shop across town, but that couldn't be it. Or could it? There's only one way to find out...

The phone rings twice before he picks up.

"Hello?" When you fail to answer, he speaks again. "Anyone there...?"

"Yes!" You cringe at your loud volume. "Yes, sorry."

You pace around the living room, waving your left hand around trying to think of something to say. Thankfully, 'café guy' replies before you can get another word in.

"Oh, Y/n! I didn't expect to hear from you so quickly." He laughs breathily, and in the background there's distant honking; he's still walking back. "I also didn't think you'd actually save my number."

Another chuckle, this one less enthusiastic. Finally, you settle your pacing, opting to sit on the arm chair by the window looking out to the street. From here you could see the forest, and the kitten who lives there.

"Shit," you breath.

"Everything okay?" You almost forgot about the phone attached to your ear.

"Yeah, sorry, I just remembered something I have to do," you say, holding your phone in place with your shoulder. "I was just calling about... the USB! Thank you for bringing it back. It had something really important to me."

"Don't worry about it. I figured it was important since I always see you in here hunched over your laptop." He lets out a little chuckle.

"Oh, um," you force a laugh out, throughly embarrassed. "Anyway! I was wondering if I could thank you properly? Maybe over some food?"

"Are you asking me out right now?"

"No!" You jump up from where you were sitting, free hand outstretched. "God, no."

"Ouch," you hear keys then a door shutting. "I'll pretend I'm not a little offended by that response." Before you could respond, he was talking again. "Feel free to drop by the café, yeah?"

"Sure thing." You open the door and cross the street quickly, a bowl with cat food in your free hand.

The kitten's ears perked up when it saw you, but was hesitant to come forward. Although you'd been feeding it consistently for the year you've lived across the small forest, it never approached, still scared of what you might do if it got too close. From what you could see at that distance, there was a bit of scarring above its right eye and part of its tail was missing.

"I'll treat you to a free slice of tiramisu and everything."

"Holding you to that," you put down the bowl, standing up with a small smile and crossing your arms. "Tiramisu is my favourite."

"I know! That's why I chose it to be dessert of the week." Doors opened with a jingle. "Ah, I've got to go. Customers await!"

"Wait-" You're about to continue, but when you turn your head to the left, you see a black figure at the edge of the forest.

It's looking directly at you, but you can't see its face. The shape is human, a long coat moving slightly in the breeze. For a moment, fear ceases you. Something about it seems vaguely familiar-

"Y/n?"

Fuck, you need to stop forgetting about the phone in your hand.

"Sorry. Um, I'll see you soon?" You cross the road back to your front steps, not taking your eyes off the being.

"See you then!" He hangs up, leaving you alone with the figure and the kitten.

You watch from the safety of your home, now inside, as the figure approaches the small animal. Unlike with you, the kitten doesn't move away. Instead, it lets the figure brush its fingers on its fur. The kitten leans into the touch, and you can imagine it purring loudly. Part of you is hurt that this animal you've known for a year has chosen a creepy-ass shadow creature over you.

Pulling your eyes away from the two, you focus on getting ready. You're about to run up the stairs, but turn around and lock the door first. You don't know what- or who- that thing is, and you're not risking it entering your safe haven. The familiarity leaves you unsettled. Part of you wants to run back outside, confront it, demand the reason it's here; the other part wants to hide under a blanket like a child afraid of the monster in their closet.

There are too many skeletons in your closet for a monster. Or maybe the skeletons are your monster. Either way, the past is the past, and in the present, you are getting ready to meet a man who shouldn't exist. Meeting at a café that shouldn't exist. In a timeline that shouldn't exist.

When you leave again, the shadow is gone. A chill runs up your spine, goosebumps forming despite the warmth of the sun. Mind racing, you can't help but wonder-

No, don't think like that, you think, he has no idea where you are. You made sure of that Y/n.

Clouds obscure the sun by the time you make it to Main Street, keeping an eye out for the café. You had to text Café Guy- you really should get his name- to ask the address. He questioned it a bit considering you were a regular, but you quickly ended the conversation. Now, you're walking a street you've been down a million times, and at the first intersection is the café.

"That's not fucking right," you whisper, voice higher by the end of the sentence, breathing constricted.

Upon entering, you immediately spot him. He's running around behind the counter, helping his employees and cracking jokes, and getting closer, you can read his name tag; Chan. You don't approach the counter right away, opting to stay behind a group of teenagers waiting in line to watch him. He shouldn't be real- yet, here he is, looking more alive than you have in years. A smile that could replace the sun, laughter ringing throughout the building.

What you would give to laugh freely like that again.

You don't notice him coming around the counter, having spotted you when you looked down briefly.

"Y/n! Come, we'll eat in my office." You give him a look. "It's quieter in there! C'mon."

Chan grabs your arm lightly and it takes everything in you not to rip it away. He leads you down a hallway to the right of the counter with three doors, two of them bathrooms. Behind the third door is another, smaller hallway, one door at the end and another on the left. You go through the left one.

"Cozy," you comment. The office is small, with a modest desk and chair tucked into the corner. Most of the décor is black and white, but there isn't much. "Spend a lot of time in here? Real homey."

"Actually, no," he admits, leaning against the desk, gesturing you to sit in the chair. You don't.

"So, Chan, what brings you here?" You question, although unsure of how much you already know. "There's not much here, unless you like neighbourhood drama."

"I could ask you the same thing. From the few times we've talked, you... you don't seem to like it here."

"That's a conversation for another time." You look down, crossing your arms.

"Alright, cryptic. Maybe I should be used to that by now." Chan pushes up from the desk, taking a step toward you. "If I'm honest, I don't really know how I got here, but you already know that, don't you?"

"W-What?" You stutter, looking up at him.

"Well... we've talked about this before!" He breaks into a smile. "You don't remember? Ahh, it was late, I guess you were tired. Basically, I just kind of found myself here after a long, long night. Cute town, decided to stay. That was... say a month ago?"

You force out a laugh, nodding along to what he was saying.

"Ah! I promised you dessert, let me go get it for you." As soon as Chan left, your phone began to vibrate.

Pulling it out of your pocket, you saw the words Unknown Number across the screen. This day had been weird enough, what was one more thing to add to the list of strangeness?

"Hello?" Silence. You heard a sharp inhale on the other side, but nothing followed. "Helloooo?" You repeat. "Listen, I really don't appreciate-"

They hang up.

"Asshole," you pull the phone away, rolling your eyes.

When Chan returned with the promised tiramisu, you got to chatting fairly quickly. Something about him made you comfortable, at ease. The odd phone call and shadow creature seemed so far away now.

"So what was on that USB anyway?" You blush.

"Um, nothing, just a story."

"Just a story?" He raises an eyebrow, picking up the now empty dessert plate. "Must have been a pretty important story."

"I've just been working on it for a long time," you wave your hand, as if to wave the conversation away.

Before he could reply, there's a sharp knock on the door. An employee enters, talking low to Chan about an angry customer.

"I'll be right there," Chan sighs. The employee glances toward you, gives a strained smile, then leaves. "I had a good time Y/n, don't be afraid to swing by for free desserts whenever you like."

The smile he gives you made your heart melt. On the way out, you turn before the end of the hall, giving Chan a small peck on the cheek. Embarrassed by the impulsive action, you all but run out of the café. If you had turned back, you'd have seen him smiling like an idiot, hand hovering over where you kissed him.

notes • i started this draft on september 14th ...................... it was so close to being able to post then i got sick !!!!! but hey !! now that i'm feeling better, i hope to be able to update this more frequently!

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae

TAGLIST CLOSED

#.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-#skz #stray kids #bang chan x fem reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #skz au #chan x reader #stray kids series

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butteronpancakes · 7 months

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Thoughts on Blade's recent characterisation

(Crossposting from reddit because I love my tumblrinas)

Does anyone else feel Blade, and by extension Yingxing, had inconsistent writing 1.4? I'm wondering if I had just read his character wrong to begin with due to my personal biases and was hoping someone could clarify some aspects of Jing Liu's companion quest that confused me such as:

1) Mara

Blade's mara feels like some convenient plot device. I was under the impression it flared up when confronting anything that conjures up painful memories such as his meetings with Dan Heng. Kafka even specifically told him in her companion quest to avoid seeing familiar faces again. Yet, he was somehow keeping himself together up until the peak of the battle with JL? Which leads me onto my next point.

2) Blade and Jing Liu

There is a huge tonal disparity between his voice line about JL and how he interacted with her in the CQ. The 1.4 trailer gave me the impression he was going to throw hands but he just kinda asked her to try killing him again. Which is fair, it reinforces his ultimate goal of wanting to die and feeds into JL being a harbinger of karmatic debt that shaped his identity as a vengeful weapon. I have nothing against this but it makes the previous voice line about her feel needlessly aggressive and out of place.

3) Yingxing and Baiheng

This is admittedly more of a personal gripe but I feel they should have established his relationship with Baiheng a lot more. It's obvious BH was extremely dear to him given that, according to JL, the entire sedition (which is a subject with its own share of differing narratives) was an attempt to resurrect her.

I actually really like how this reinforces that Baiheng was the glue of the HCQ and that it makes sense as it was her that gave YX the confidence boost he needed as a child.

However, at the same time I feel conflicted because it completely destroys the entire point of Yingxing's character? YX took pride in being a short-life species that was able to surpass the XZ natives through his hard work and passion, forgetting to even sleep or eat. He was so driven on avenging the family the abundance took from him at such a young age despite facing prejudice from the other craftsmen. He literally never shuts up about it,

"In fact... I also have lots of work to do, and won't live very long unlike the celestials on the Xianzhou. "

"I'm a short-life species, you think two hours isn't enough? It will be done"

This line in particular speaks for itself,

"I'd rather leave this world in a blaze than live until the end of time. I will let all of the Xianzhou know that a brief moment of my life is worth more than their long meaningless live."

The reason why Blade's story is so tragic is because he was robbed of this and thereby, everything that made him Yingxing.

Now I get it, that must have meant that he loved Baiheng so much to completely turn around all his values on living one's limited existence to the fullest and being against the abundance to use the flesh of an emanator on her. Grief changes you, one's personal philosophies may not necessarily apply to other people, BH was already notorious for escaping near death situations, he probably had it in his head he will die first out of the Quintet, and he and DF were proud, arrogant jackasses who thought they could actually pull their Full Metal Alchemist arc off.

But you see how there are some fairly subjective assumptions needed to be made here in order to justify such a drastic shift in YX's characterisation that was consistently built up since the beginning? It also doesn't help that this quote can either come across as him respecting the situation or sounding bitter about it.

"Yes, none of us are special! Each of us has only one life, sacrificing for this, dying for that... it's all our own choices. Just like how she chose to save you and Jing Liu... just like how she chose to let more people live on!"

I understand it on paper but I feel there was loss potential and not much concrete in-game content to drive home the emotional impact. Blade barely mentions Baiheng in his character stories aside from the vague "beloved", there are no voice lines, mirage echoes or any other readings aside from the Zhuming one prior to 1.4. Heck, that one closed beta content about her was removed and they only kept the lore about DF (at the risk of sounding like some annoying shipper, they established DF and YX being partners-in-crime so much to the point it is more convincing that he assisted mostly out of loyalty to DF) . I get it that Baiheng isn't explicitly stated to have any present counterparts (even though BH = Bailu theory is super implied at this point) but that didn't stop JL from having her dead centre on her phone case.

Also for those entertaining the possibility that YX mostly did it to go along with DF's ulterior motive of creating a new HE and/or uprooting the Ambrosial Arbor, the bracer lore implies that YX was the one who originally brought up the idea of supposedly resurrecting BH.

"This person (DF) who stubbornly adhered to their plans with the unnamed (YX)"

I'm not saying at all this approach was bad or any logic leaps had to be made (it's honestly pretty straightforward) but it felt like the rug was pulled from underneath for those who were invested in YX/Blade as a character. I've also seen the argument that YX's arrogance was repeatedly mentioned, so it's no surprise he had a wack moral compass, but didn't that conceited behaviour also stem from his virgin XZ natives vs chad short-lived outlander mentality?

I've said this before but the narrative told in JL's CQ is good in a vacuum but it made some of the previously established lore come across as contradictory, hence all these theories about JL being a unreliable narrator and conspiracies about writers intentionally messing up the HCQ lore.

I'm not sure, is what I'm saying making sense or did I just make up an oc in my head?

TDLR; It felt like they were changing around previously established aspects of his character for JL's companion quest and the parts that did make sense lacked context that it being the sole reason to throw away all the foundation themes YX embodies just rubs the wrong way.

#blade hsr #yingxing #fuck it I'll tag rnhng #Renheng #baiheng

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mistydeyes · 1 year

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periwinkles and daffodils

summary: A young Kyle spends the summer in the Worcestershire countryside and makes a new flower obsessed friend.

pairing: Gaz x childhood love! fem!Reader

warnings: FLUFF! Literally just some childhood crushes and cuteness, UK inaccuracies (especially with geography)

a/n: There isn't enough Gaz love on here and I'm gonna change that

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

There were only two things in your life that remained consistent, flowers and Kyle Garrick. Well, maybe only one thing. Flowers could always be plucked from your garden during the warmer months or from your local grocer's when the weather turned cool and the leaves began to fall. Even in the dead of winter, you were able to have the most colorful and pristine petals gently wrapped and shipped to your doorstep from a warmer continent. Kyle, on the other hand, was not as easy to access. As you sat trimming your newest floral harvest, you reminisced about the days spent in the garden and with your old friend.

Periwinkle - Tender recollections

Growing up in the countryside of Worcestershire allowed you and your mum to care for a front lawn of wildflowers and a garden filled with rows of cultivated flowers. She was the town's florist, widowed too early due to a reckless driver. You had no memories of your father but your mother made sure to be the support system you needed from two parents. From a young age, she painstakingly taught you all you needed to know about life. She began with basic life skills such as cooking as well as encouraging you to read and write from an early age. Your bookshelf was never empty as she kept it stocked with classics, books about famous scientists, and numerous language workbooks. However, she was most proud when showing you how to maintain a garden filled with fickle flowers. She would tell you when to water a drooping English rose bush and how to test the soil's acidity to know what color the blooming hydrangeas would eventually show. In Year 1 for an assignment, you proudly depicted your mother in her faded overalls and bandana, surrounded by flowers with smiley faces and their floral names written as name tags.

"Mum what does this one mean?" you questioned as you plucked a delicate navy blue flower from its stem. In your small hands, you held it at its truncated base and pinched the funnel-shaped petals gently. As you examined it further, you could see the petals were separated by a deep maroon and you admired the richness that painted the singular flower. "Those are morning glories, my love. They mean 'affection'," your mum answered, balancing a basket filled with bunches of dahlias, striped tulips, chrysanthemums, and peonies. "You should write that down in your notebook, the one the neighbour boy gave you."

Daffodils - new beginnings

Following the end of Year 1, a small boy began living next door to you with his grandparents. They introduced him as Kyle, their grandson from Manchester, who would be staying with them for the entirety of the warmer months. Your mum had known this as his grandmother frequently exchanged baked goods for a beautifully arranged bouquet and some English lavender to cook with. The elderly Garricks were there for your mum following the loss of her husband and helped her out when she had to manage the florist shop. They were the family you needed and you were excited to meet their actual grandson.

When he first moved in, your mother held your hand and walked you to their house. You were dressed in your typical summer gardening clothes, khaki shorts, and a light airy shirt that was a few sizes too big for you. She allowed you to hold her newest bouquet along with your hand-written Welcome card made with crayons and dried flowers. As you exited the rows of wildflowers and walked up his sidewalk, you could see a small boy your age laughing with his grandma on the porch.

"Good afternoon, you must be Kyle," your mum said as the little boy ran to hide behind his grandma's rustic rocking chair.

"Now, Kyle, don't be shy. Look Y/N has something to give to you!" his grandma replied slowly pushing Kyle in your direction.

"These are my mummy's flowers," you said sweetly. "She also told me to say that each of these has a meaning."

"Go on, Y/N," your mother said as she went to sit opposite Kyle's grandmother. You took a seat on the porch and put the bouquet into Kyle's small hands.

"You can take the string to make it easier," you said. You then began pointing to each flower, "These purple and lilac ones are wisterias and they mean 'welcome', these other purple ones are periwinkles, I picked them out myself! These mean 'early friendship'," you continued.

"Wait I know what this is! My city mum has it dried in our kitchen" he excitedly said and went to pick up the various musky, floral-scented valerian flowers. As he picked at the small delicate, pink blossoms he asked, "Do they have a meaning too?"

"It's two big words, but I think my mum knows!" you responded, just as you spoke your mum heard your struggle and elaborated, "It means an 'accommodating disposition'. It's to describe someone easy to get along with and always willing to be there for you.

"That's so cool!" Kyle said, "I have a notebook with all these big words to show to my Manchester friends. In Year 2, I'm going to be the smartest one," he beamed.

He quickly ran inside and retrieved two journals. Both were made of leather and were no bigger than a regular soft-cover book. One was worn with the spine showing where Kyle had opened the book and placed it flat to write. The other looked new, showing no signs of wear.

"My grandad made this for me, he also made one for you," he said and handed you the journal. "He said to give it to you so we can write in it together, you with flowers and mine with big, adult words."

You could hear the women chuckle, the shy Kyle was quick to come around to you and was talking as if you had been best friends since elementary.

"Wait, we should get cool flower names together and write them inside," he shouted, clearly showing his enthusiasm.

"My teacher says my handwriting is bad so I'll ask my mum. Plus she knows like a whole book on flower meanings," you said and got up with Kyle walking towards your mother.

She took out a pen from her pocket and held your journals in her hand. As she thought for a moment, she suddenly gasped jokingly as if a lightbulb went off and scribbled in both of your books.

Neatly written in your mother's handwriting were both of your names. Under Kyle's was 'Sycamore - Curiosity' and under yours was 'Clematis - Mental beauty'

For the rest of the summer, you and Kyle were inseparable. Being one of the only children in your village, you found comfort in each other. Some days, he would come over to your home, helping your mum with weeding and watering. She gave you both small satchels that you could hold your notebooks and pencils in. As you followed her around, you would try your best to legibly write the flower, what it looked like, and its meaning. Kyle, on the other hand, would be asking your mum for definitions whenever she used words like perennials, idyllic, or serendipity.

When your mum had to manage her shop, you went to his house. You would always walk back to your house full and covered in flour. His grandma, affectionately called Nana, put you both to work. In the morning, she would show you both how to make a variety of bread from scratch and taught you both patience as you had to wait for the bread to rise. In the afternoon, she would be pulling cookbooks off the shelf to cook a new dish from a different country. She used to work as a flight attendant and always made sure to eat at least one new thing while on a layover. Her laughs would fill the room as both you and Kyle leaned over the sink to drink some water after she fed you some spicy peppers. As a reward for building your spice tolerance, she would gift you with Grandad's award-winning lemonade. He would usually be in his workshop, working on leather goods and other items to sell at the local market but always would come out to make some lemonade.

One time, your mother sent you a cheesecloth filled with mint, marigolds, and honeysuckles to add to the lemonade. Ever the child, you dug your hand into the finished lemonade and tried to put a marigold behind Kyle's ear. You chased him around the kitchen island with your sticky, sugary fingers until you finally were able to tuck it behind his left ear. Little did you know, during your little Ring Around the Rosie, he was able to grab some loose flour and threw it at you. Needless to say, Nana and Grandad made you both sit in the tub while they attempted to clean the sticky lemonade and flour off both of your clothes.

At the end of summer, you tearfully gripped a flower bouquet in your hand. Kyle's mum was coming to get him today and bring him back to Manchester for the new school year. You had numerous conversations with your mother and she explained, "This isn't a goodbye, more of an 'I'll see you again soon!'" Her decision to send you with freesias (lasting friendship), pansy (think of me), rosemary (remembrance), and forget-me-nots (one of your favorites as it had a literal meaning), seemed fit.

As you walked to his room, you could hear your mum chatting with his describing the amazing summer you both had. You nudged his door open, you could also see his eyes puffy from crying all morning. His room was missing his books, including a dictionary you gifted him with from the local bookshop. As you went to sit next to him, you could see he held the familiar leather journal. He had added 3 more pages and you were jealous of his neat handwriting.

"I have some flowers for you," you said and laid them in his hand. "I also wrote you a note so you wouldn't forget what they mean." With that, you pulled out a piece of floral stationery from your pocket and handed it to him. As he looked at it, a small tear fell on the paper and soon you both were in a puddle of tears. Once you both cried all your emotions out, he tucked the tear-stained paper in his journal and pulled you into a hug.

"Please come back next summer, I'll have a new collection of flowers to show you and my mum will have more words for you to learn," you said, voice breaking.

"Until next summer," Kyle said and you both walked down to his mum's car. Your mum held you tight to her side as you both waved him goodbye in front of your signature wildflower lawn. ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #gaz imagine #kyle garrick imagine #mw2 #izzie is writing

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good-beanswrites · 5 months

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A little comedy drabble for @kyanako5972 in return for their very impressive musical skills! (The Jailbreak mix wouldn't have fit together without ya👍) Fuuta gets his hands on some slime... They've done some art for it here :3

[I couldn't think of something funny enough, but insert broadway bootleg Milgram Slime Tutorial joke here]

Fuuta was open-minded. Of course he was. He was the most open-minded guy here. He knew that vengeance could come in many shapes. Sometimes it took the form of beautiful, poetic violence. Sometimes it was cutting words and a grand victory. And other times, it appeared as sticky craft slime. You just had to have an open mind to see it.

Not everyone was in as receptive of a mood.

“A-are you sure it’s not a, a toy?” Haruka asked.

“It’s not.”

“B-but,” he pointed, “it’s --”

“No! It’s a weapon.”

“I don’t know if you know what a weapon is…” Amane looked down at the table. “You couldn’t have requested something a bit more… sharp?”

“Eh!? This is a pri-son. Like they’re gonna give me something like that. I’ve got to take matters into my own hands.”

To prove his point, he picked up his creation. The color wasn’t as flashy as the others’, but it held the perfect consistency for what he needed. It had taken some time to formulate the perfect plan of attack. There were rules he had to work around, after all. (No matter how open-minded he was, rules were rules.) There was a no-violence ban. Fuuta had already tested that one -- several times, actually -- and was sure he couldn’t get around it. Their requests were monitored, and it wasn’t as if he could go and order weapons. And then, even if he did get his hands on something truly dangerous, the original ban would stop him from using it. That left him with only one option.

“It’s definitely a toy. The others are playing with it.” It was true, Haruka, Muu and Yuno had their own colorful creations. Amane herself hadn’t grabbed any, though she sat with her eyes glued hungrily on the others’ projects. Her interest in it wasn’t helping Fuuta’s case.

“Exactly, it’s the perfect disguise! They’ll never see it coming.”

“There’s nothing to see coming…”

Muu poked at hers. “Look~ Mine’s cute and pink, see? I’m even going to add some glitter when Haruka’s finished with it.”

“I-I Uh, I think I added too much… sorry…” Haruka’s slime had lost all appealing texture, turned into a clumpy, sparkling mess.

Fuuta heaved the loudest sigh he could manage, but the others continued paying him no mind. He was doing this for them, shouldn’t they care? Es had slapped Haruka during his interrogation, for god’s sake! That was child abuse! Yuno was only a year older and returned from her interrogation with complaints of violence! And Fuuta --! Well, he actually hadn’t experienced any of that, but that didn’t matter. No hero of justice would let all that go unpunished.

His moment came quicker than expected. He’d planned on ambushing Es coming in or out of their room, but they surprised everyone by coming into the common area. It was fate.

“I heard you all were playing with some crafts in here.”

Amane glanced at Fuuta. He shot her a look back that meant “don’t say a single word.” His exaggerated expression only drew Es’ attention.

“Something to say, prisoner three?”

“Yeah!” He wound up his arm.

He had an open mind, but not necessarily a quick one. With more time, he could have come up with a righteous cry, something along the lines of: “this is for Haruka and Yuno, you damned scoundrel!” Or even: “meet your judgment, tyrant!”

But as the slime came careening toward’s Es’ face, the only thing he managed was, “fuck you!”

Splat.

The common room fell silent. Fuuta froze. The slime had hit its mark perfectly. It hit Es squarely on the side of the head. It splattered onto their hat. A good deal had tangled itself in their hair. It oozed toward their shoulder, clumps falling onto the uniform. As they tried to wipe it from their face, the material clung to their gloves, getting stuck between their fingers.

Their eyes moved slowly from their ruined clothes to Fuuta’s still outstretched hand, to his face. “I see.”

They turned on their heel and left.

“That’ll teach ya!” He called out, a moment too late after they’d gone. He turned to Amane, who was watching with a mix of amusement and disappointment. “There’s no way that stuff’s washing out easy. Maybe they’ll have to put on a spare uniform in the meantime.”

“You shouldn’t have made them so mad,” she said.

“Pah! What’s the brat gonna do? Name me guilty over it?”

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #es #amane momose #thank you for your help!!! i was just expecting a few little pointers and you had whole pictures and thorough info -- im so grateful ;-;#(and so impressed >:0)#not pictured here: es sitting dejected in their room because it really doesnt wash out easily and they have to tell jackalope what happened #that OR they have a closet comically full of identical uniforms and return in like five minutes perfectly clean and it makes fuuta So Mad 😂#at first i kept getting off topic and focusing too much on the others but i think haruka would find the slime very soothing :')#muu would make a bright green one at one point making es do a double take #alternate version where fuuta tells amane she can get back at shidou in the same way and she gets to play with slime as well 👏✨#fuuta 'this is a pri-son' kajiyama.....#i love the thought of him having all these dramatic visions of knights and righteousness and absolutely none of it translating irl #hes just so very uncool and i love him for it 😌#im excited for the ice cream request -- ive been toying around with possibilities...#drabbles

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princesspastel8 · 2 months

Text

Chapter 2

Third POV

"Where did you run off to?! Dinner is ready, and you didn't help set the table!" melissa- Eboni's foster mother shouts in frustration.

Eboni swears under her mask, pulling her headphones back onto her shoulders. She walks into the kitchen, avoiding moving boxes still full along the way. She sits at the far end of the long oval shaped kitchen table.

"Are you going to answer-"

"I went on a walk." Eboni sharply says, cutting melissa off.

"Do not interrupt me when I'm speaking! Goodness, I know I taught you better manners. And take that mask off at the table!"

Eboni reluctantly takes off her mask, ignoring the stares from her foster siblings. Three permanent scars. She still remembers that horrific day. It was her third foster family, the teen being ten at the time. Her foster mother at the time had an abusive boyfriend who happened to be on heroin.

During her stay there, the male would make passes at the little girl. It made her uncomfortable, but she never told the foster mother a thing - nor her social worker. That was until the day the man almost raped the poor child. Eboni fought all her might until the foster mother came home.

The male had quickly left the child's room, going completely unnoticed by the foster mother. During dinner, Eboni had gained the courage to finally tell the mother everything. But instead of getting protection, she earned a beating. The mother called her so many slurs and degrading names.

The foster mother allowed her boyfriend to beat the girl senseless. The beating ended with him grabbing a knife, cutting her right cheek and across it. Her vitiligo has reached that side of her face at that point. He finishes with cutting across under both eyes and nose as well as the left corner of her lip. He said it's meant to be a reminder on why little girls shouldn't tell such huge lies.

Three days later, Eboni was removed from the home and placed in a different one- but the damage was done. The moment the scars healed, Eboni wore a mask everywhere she went. That only caused more bullying. Having her foster siblings stare at them every time she takes it off irks her.

You'd think after seeing them so many times, they'll be used to it - quite the opposite, actually. Their stares become longer each time. Including Eboni, the foster family consists of five members. Two twin sisters, Jackie and Jessica. Jason, the older brother in college. Melissa, the mother- and Eboni, the middle child. A family full of 'Js'.

Jason is Melissa's favorite, and she didn't even bother to hide it. The star quarterback of his college football team, gotten into school on a full ride. He has a huge future in football- which is most likely why melissa cherishes him, wanting a cut of his soon to be riches.

Jackie and Jessica were the youngest yet brightest ten year olds you'd come by. One is great in math, while the other is a genius in science - two of Eboni's most hated subjects. The two, of course, have a bright future ahead of them. Then there's Eboni, the senior in high school, with no plans on what to do with her life.

Not to mention the only none mixed child among the whole family. Yes, everyone else is light skinned. Melissa could pass off as a white woman if she wanted to, which Eboni is sure she has to get whatever she wanted. White privilege - go figure. The teen is clearly the odd one out - the black sheep. In Eboni's case, melissa only took and dealt with her for so long - for the check.

"Are you going to explain why you were gone so l-"

"You know melissa, you have a crappy sense of house hunting."

"Excuse me!?" The woman gasped, ready to yell at the teen for disrespecting her, but Jasmine spoke before she could.

"You didn't do your research on this place. Forrest Lawn, known for its murders and mysterious missing people cases- even known for their serial killers. In fact, this house is where one of the many used to live." Eboni explains with a frown, looking at melissa. She just wanted to tick off the woman.

"Eboni, I will not tolerate such disrespect from you! You will -"

"Ma relax. You know Eboni has always been into that weird clut shit." Jason said with a mouth full of food - disgusting. "She could be makin' it all up just ta get under ya skin."

"Actually, she's correct." Jessica said, typing away on her phone before pulling up an article dated eight years ago.

"Jeffrey Mason, also known as Jeff the Killer, has pledged Forrest Lawn the moment he moved into the small town. The 'Night of Murder' has been marked as the bloodiest night of the town's history. The seventeen year old killed a total of thirteen people, leaving two survivors - one being his younger brother Liu Manson, who is still missing." Jessica explains while Jackie looks up a more up to date article.

"Damn. That's why the neighbors looked at us like we were idiots." Jason cringes.

"Jeff was taken into custody and placed into a mental institution for a psyche evaluation. After a few months at the institution, Jeff somehow managed to escape as well as a few other inmates. The killer has yet to be found, but police have yet to give up on their search due to the monthly murders. A-"

"Enough!" Melissa huffs, glaring at Eboni while the rest finishes their dinner.

"What? You picked this house, not me." The teen said smartly- staring at the food on her plate. Eboni's mother taught her how to cook better than this crap in front of her.

"I wouldn't have to pick the only spacious house in this town if YOU would've just behaved! I'm tired of your fits! If you don't behave yourself in this school, so help me god I'll - "

"You'll what? Put me back in the system - wouldn't you miss those checks, though?"

The tension grew as the two stared each other down, Eboni being the one to look away. She hates that about herself - never having the strength to stand up to melissa's intimidation. She could only hope that one day- this whole family would just disappear.

"Since you're not hungry, clear the table, then clean the kitchen. Everyone else prepare for bed, You two Jason."

"But ma, I'm on vacation - come on!" Jason exclaims, wanting to stay up a few more hours.

"No buts! You know the twins aren't morning people, I'm going to need help waking them up for their new school. They can't afford to be late." She said, standing from her seat as everyone else did.

Eboni quickly places her headphones back on, not wanting to witness the sweet goodnight affections melissa always gave her foster siblings. This shouldn't bother the teen, but moments like that remind the girl of her mother. She felt that side begin to surface. The soft, meekly, deprived side. She quickly takes her phone, putting it on Melanie Martinez. For some reason, the artist's music places a bubbly feeling within the teen whenever this side emerges.

After finishing the dishes, the teen walks up the stairs to her new room. Ironically enough, it was the same room Jeff had. She found it funny how no one wanted the room even before finding out the history of this house. Eboni always got last pickings, so she didn't even bother looking around.

She takes off her clothes, digging in one of her boxes to pull out an oversized pink hoodie with hello kitty in the center of it. Eboni reaches inside a different box, pulling out her stuffed bunny plushie - the last gift her parents got her before their pasting. Thanks to her sewing skills, the teen is able to keep it in good shape.

Eboni crawls into bed, closing her eyes while snuggling closer to the plush bunny. As she laid their, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to her parents. Her father was teaching her self-defense since he was a fighting instructor. Her mother taught her how to cook since she was a high-class chef. Though both had very busy careers, they always made time for their own child - showering Eboni with only the best. With those memories in mind, the teen drifts out into a restless sleep dreading the first day of her new school.

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edogawa-division · 3 months

Note

By the time before it gets dark, surrounding the chapel of Odawara was its unique panorama of the seaside painted with variant dazzling shades of blue.

From the deep cerulean down the sea to the clear and bright azure up above the sky, today was the day the unlikely happy couple of Shinomiya and Shinozaki were soon destined to walk down the aisle together, but now the couple was separated as they were greeting all their surprise guests for taking their precious time to be in at their pledge of love.

And at the bride of Shinozaki’s side, she was soon greeted by one young man whom the A.I. recognized that he was the leader of a certain division that once came to deliver the presents on her dear creator’s birthday.

“Congratulations Ageha-san, and also to Masuzō-san too. I’m the representative from Nara Division. Here we have some little gift to wish you and your soon husband for a happy marriage.”

It was a cute bouquet consisting of pure white roses and baby blue star-shaped tweedias —which the latter has its own flower language in Japanese known as ‘the trusting heart’.

“Actually, I don’t personally know either of you though… But, someone I came to know lately had never stopped telling me to participate today.”

And ‘she’ did spend almost two hours in the flower shop just to pick the perfect flowers for the ‘Sissy’ she said to be somehow grateful for —Yuuya only thought but didn’t add that small truth to the conversation.

However, it was that time a phone in his pocket gave out its own response,

// Hey human, ANGE wanna talk too!

As the boy sensed an aggressive vibration on one side of his jacket, he sighed a bit but still having a soft smile on his face while bringing out his phone so that the bride could see the other ‘guest’ who tagged along with him today

—Instead of a normal home screen, the screen on the boy’s phone was now flooded with bright blue roses and one figure of a certain mobile girl who popped out to give the bride her overly gleeful salutation.

“// Hi hi, sissy A.D.A.! Here we’ve met again! Tee-hee, thanks for guiding me at a certain place back then. ANGE would be even more out of depth than her usual habitat really is if sissy didn’t be around to explain useful things to her that time! Anywayyy, congratulations on your bond with the purple nii-san! ANGE and her human are very super-duper extra happy for your love life! Wellll, Couldn’t wait to see more of what human’s wedding ceremony would be like!

And F that kelp-haired landlord over there why he would be here in your wedding.”

“Hello again, ANGE.” A.D.A smiled. “It's very nice to see you again. Thanks for the gift, by the way.”

A.D.A had let out a laugh as she heard what the young A.I. had called one of Malphas’ groomsmen. “Now come on, ANGE Lan isn't so bad once you get to know him. If you can ignore his habit of constantly scheming. Plus, isn't he also technically the one in charge of you?”

Spiraling into another fit of giggles A.D.A could barely contain herself as she watched ANGE vehemently deny that scheming shark wasn't in charge of her.

“Okay okay Lan isn't in charge of you ANGE. Now tell me, how's your night been? I know it's your first time at a wedding.”

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #a.d.a #ageha shinozaki #ANGE #yuuya kanata #the spider and the butterfly #malada wedding #callmepyrus

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zeldadiarist · 2 years

Text

Music (Friday Night Plans)

The @zelinkcommunity began weekly prompts to let our imaginations run wild! The theme this week is music, which allowed me to revisit this idea of a TP Zelink college AU. I hope you like it, either here or crossposted on Ao3!

Read under the cut!

Noise of chatter and clinking glasses was the typical Friday night soundtrack at the small, as old as time pub near the Arts and Humanities faculty of Hyrule University.

Legend said the pub had been built at the same time as the huge faculty building, one hundred and fifty years ago, to brighten up the lives and lift the spirits of the students, but actually it was just a good place with familiar faces, good cheap fries, and even cheaper, better booze - the owner, Telma, who was the namesake of the pub, followed the recipe of her family's custom brew.

A young man in an old, worn dark brown perfecto jacket, olive green hoodie and jeans swam among the dwellers. The amount of guests was bigger than usual, for a very specific reason: every week, Telma’s Pub hosted live music shows, and this particularly had a larger concurrence, for it was a kararocker party. It consisted of regular karaoke, but instead of having bad synthesized tracks, it had a live band, and a sort of setlist, composed by the people who had signed up.

After some minutes of surfing, he ended up next to who he was looking for.

"Hey, Midna!" he called out a towering redhead twili woman clad in a long, flowy, loose black jacket with fringe, crop top and long skirt, Doc Marten’s style boots on her feet, which contrasted with her hippie-ish, borderline Stevie Nicks inspired clothing.

"Link! You made it in time, buddy!" the redhead high-fived him, "Great! My friend is about to go onstage!"

"Your roommate?" he asked, taking off his hood. "The History Major junior?"

"Yes," she nodded, her earrings making a chiming sound, "she loves these things because she says it’s sort of cathartic."

"It surely is," he laughed, seeing the extravagant performance of the singer on stage, a lanky guy dancing like there was no tomorrow to an energetic guitar riff, reciting “must be the moon, must be the moon…” as if it were a mantra.

"She sings beautifully too, so it’s a plus I guess," Midna shrugged, looking at the singer bowing to the crowd.

Link had heard only praise about her from Midna: how ladylike she was, her intelligence, and her shy but laid back and nice personality once you get to know her. Ironically, despite him knowing Midna for almost a semester now, he had never been introduced to her, and the couple of times she had invited him to their apartment, the roommate was never around.

The MC stepped on the small stage. "Next, is one of our regulars, Miss Zelda!" the crowd clapped, "singing Mitski’s Nobody!"

The crowd clapped some more, as a tall woman, slender but with rounded hips, stepped onstage, dressed in a cream knit sweater paired with a black leather mini skirt, black tights and booties; her long golden brown hair in a low ponytail, her makeup barely there, just some rosy color on her lips and mascara that framed her beautiful, almond shaped icy blue eyes.

To say she was pretty was an understatement. She looked more like a model than a regular university student, in Link’s eyes. And something about her resulted strangely familiar to him.

She waved timidly, saying "it’s good to see friendly faces tonight, hi Midna!" as she greeted the twili, who raised a fist in the air, while Zelda took the microphone.

"That’s Zelda!" Midna clapped, looking at her companion.

"I see." Link just looked to the stage, wide eyed, more than impressed by the looks of the young woman.

Midna just giggled mischievously seeing his captivated look.

"My God, I'm so lonely, so I open the window, to hear sounds of people, to hear sounds of people…" she began singing, her voice crystal clear, as she took the elastic band off her hair, the piano and drum playing softly. "Venus, planet of love, was destroyed by global warming. Did its people want too much too? Did its people want too much?"

"And I don't want your pity," the guitar joined her voice, an upbeat riff looping, the rhythm going up, "I just want somebody near me, guess I'm a coward, I just want to feel alright," her sweet voice pleaded. "And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss, give me one good honest kiss and I'll be alright…"

Link wondered if she sang with so much heart out of personal experience, or if she was actually an excellent performer.

"Nobody, nobody, nobody, Nobody, nobody," the beat picked up, and she began dancing on her spot, "Ooh, nobody, nobody, nobody…"

The beat caught up again, she began swaying her hips to the music more energetically.

"I've been big and small" -she gestured with her hands- "And big and small, and big and small again, and still nobody wants me" -everyone clapped twice with her- "Still nobody wants me…"

I’d want ya, if you don’t mind, Link said to himself, kind of surprised by the statement of his inner self.

"And I know no one will save me, I'm just asking for a kiss" -she lowered to the crowd making eye contact with some of the public- "Give me one good movie kiss, and I'll be alright…" her eyes casually met with his.

Those lyrics, sung with such feeling, such yearning, made Link’s heart skip a beat. I’d kiss you, not only once. Several times, actually, if you want, of course.

"Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, Ooh, nobody," she began dancing, swaying to the music, shaking her head, hair now messy, owning the little stage, until the beat became slower, singing to the top of her lungs a thousand "nobody, nobody, nobody, no…" until the very last note, after which everybody at the pub applauded furiously.

"Zel, you rock!" Midna hollered, almost leaving her companion deaf.

She made a tiny pause. "Thanks everyone," she said and smiled, turning to thank the Zora band members, her cheeks blushed, tucking her hair behind her pointy ear as she put the mic on the stand with her free one, then leaving it by the right side.

Midna gestured for Link to follow her, both surfing and shuffling to get out of the crowd, meeting the singer at the back, who rested with her back against the wall, looking for something on her bag.

"What a stunner was that!" Midna shrieked, hugging her.

"I needed it," Zelda sighed, leaning on her friend. "It's been a rough week."

"I know, baby," she patted her head. "I came with the friend I wanted to introduce to you," Midna changed the subject. "This is Link."

She waved at him shyly, a smile warm, soft, and friendly. "I am Zelda Harkinian-Nohansen, Midna has talked a lot about you," she extended her hand.

Her name ringed in his ear as if he had heard it before, but set the thought aside. Not every Friday night you get introduced to someone who looks as if the model of a Boldini or Singer Sargent painting had turned into flesh and bone… and appeared in a mini skirt.

"She has told me about ya too," he grinned, giving her a handshake. Her hands were delicate and thin against his broad, rough, square hands.

"I hope it's nothing bad," she let out a tiny chuckle.

"Only praise, Miss," he grinned. "I didn't know you sang so well!"

"I was a member of the choir in high school," she explained, even more blushed.

"She was so cute with her uniform and her braided hair!" Midna pinched Zelda's cheeks, like a proud, overbearing mother. "Let's have a pint with chips and have a chat."

Zelda and Link grabbed a table while Midna went to the bar.

"What is your field of study?" Zelda enquired with curiosity. "You aren't from the Engineering and Informatics Faculty, as far as I know. You don’t look like a Computer Science major, no offense."

"I'm studying Art, and a minor in Art History," he told her, staring with a piqued curiosity. "Can I ask ya somethin? I hope I don't sound like a creep."

"You aren't a creep," she shook her head, "I can feel it."

He made himself a mental note to not prove her otherwise before talking again.

"Your face is familiar to me," he confessed.

She gave him a tiny smile. "So is yours! Maybe because of this…" and looked for something in her bag, began tying up her hair in a bun, and put on a pair of tortoiseshell cateye glasses. He recognized now clearly who she was.

"I’m professor Rauru's assistant," she laughed, returning the frames to the bag, "you've probably seen me with my reading glasses in class."

"You dress differently too," he said, "more… “professional”, I’d say?"

"Yes," she nodded, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "But I'm not stuck up, I hope I didn't give the wrong impression."

"Hardly, ma'am!"

As Midna was about to return to the table with three pitchers and a large basket of fries under her arm, she saw her friends chatting, subtle glee drawn on their faces.

A mischievous smirk appeared in her purple painted lips.

"Just as I expected!" she said knowingly, and decided to wait just a little longer.

#legend of zelda #legend of zelda au #zelink #modern au #modern zelink #tp zelink #tp zelink au #college au #zelink au #tp link #tp zelda #loz fanfiction #zelink community

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jordyn-degas · 2 years

Text

Maybe .. One Day

characters: Kenma Kozume x OC! Mei Takahashi

warnings: pretty much none; it's quite a peaceful drabble; ah! Kenma's emotionally hurt for a bit; his first crush; a bit of angst but barely; Kuroo being such a dad

notes: this drabble comes from an attempt to get out of the writer's block 😅 i asked @iamthepotato to give me the character, the subject and the genre - to make it even more perfect? we're introducing my chaotic half's OC: Mei Takahashi 🥳 since this is a personalized request there is no Y/N 🤗 you can self-insert if needed.

There was never a moment in Kenma’s life in which he wished to step out of the background more than he did now. Always casually sitting back, sucked into his own comfortable bubble without paying any mind to the surroundings, living more in a world dominated by pixels than human beings. Quivering pangs of an emotion he has not been accustomed to until today were ravaging each available bit of his tightened chest, shamelessly accompanied by heavy beats meant to carve the heart’s way out of its body.

Kenma was never good at expressing feelings, at differentiating between the meanings of each, simply hoarding them all in one place and forgetting they even existed. Life consisted of video games, school, volleyball and Kuroo’s constant nagging that seemed to hit an all time high - today in particular.

“You’ve been on level 22 for the past 45 minutes.” Kuroo observed, peaking yet again into the blue PlayStation Portable his best friend always carried around.

“It’s a hard one.” Kenma pondered, hunched position as he sat on the gym’s floor, fingers aimlessly running across the console in an attempt to throw him off.

As Kuroo prepared some kind of wise words that would, maybe, get his friend off the floor and into actual training, he was abruptly stopped by the laugh everyone got accustomed with in the past three days. Quick analytical skills were set in motion, catching with the corner of his eyes how Kenma shifted, head snapping upwards with a quickness he did not have even in the matches against Hinata, eyes focused completely on the person that was at the other end of the gym. With an amused “ah!” Kuroo took a step back and leaned against the wall, quietly watching the scene unfolding before them.

Liquid gold beamed at the heart fluttering sound, unbothered demeanor melting into pure softness as Kenma felt his breath being sucked out, lips parted slightly while being bound into a mesmerized stance. It was for the first time when he couldn't care less that Kuroo was watching him like a hawk, simply unable to tear his gaze away from the pearly white smile, eyes meeting through the net settled in the middle of the court.

“You seem lost.” soft, yet confident, voice said while amusement laced its tonality - Kenma jumping slightly, a figure emerging behind him.

“A bit.” he mumbled, turning around to be met with a girl only a few inches shorter than him - brown, kind eyes, shoulder-length black hair, pair of white shorts and an oversized black shirt that simply had the number 11 on it without any other inscriptions.

“Mei.” she grinned, cheeks full with playfulness. stretching out her hand.

“Uhm ..” Kenma swallowed, not understanding why his brain was unable to make the connection with his own hand, raising it in slow motion to meet hers. “Kenma.”

“Now, Kenma ..” Mei said while stepping right next to him, a chuckle escaping her seeing the boy so lost. “Never been here before, ha?”

“No.” he replied quietly, eyes solely trained on the shape of her face, on how her cheeks tended to catch a bit of a rose color with each smile or chuckle.

“I thought Nekoma was supposed to be this guided-by-instinct team.” Mei raised an eyebrow while a mischievous smirk adorned her, until now, innocent features - quickly noticing the name written on the blonde’s shirt.

“First time here.” Kenma admitted, eyeing the ground and feeling an embarrassment he has never experienced before.

“I know it’s late but as a proud Inarizaki student ..” Mei quipped, his eyes snapping back up to meet hers in surprise, without a single care in the world wrapping her arm around his. “.. let me show you around.”

“Okay.” Kenma agreed, a brief nod accompanying his attempt to relax under the level of closeness he was experiencing now.

“Do you say more than three words?” Mei asked, both beginning to walk around, curious eyes studying the boy.

“D-depends.” Kenma answered, swallowing the knot formed into his throat feeling the right cheek burning under her gaze.

“I don’t usually bite.” she grinned, a chuckle following shortly after as he tensed at the playfulness. “Don’t worry. By the time you get back to your team, you’ll be all talked out.”

And that he was.

Despite bumping into each other after dinner, Kenma ended up spending time with Mei way past midnight, exploring the area where Inarziaki usually held their training camps, settling on a nearby hill overlooking the entire area. It started off easily, only her doing the talking, Kenma simply listening, finding an unfamiliar peace settling over him. Knees brought up to the chest, cheek resting on them as he looked at her from the moment they sat down until they left. They were the same age, only a month apart, common interests and a deep appreciation for well thought out video games - letting Mei play on his PS Portable and go past some of the levels only to see that intoxicating excitement glowing on her.

Unknowingly, Kenma found himself talking past the five word mark he usually had, sentences flowing out with an ease never experienced before with a girl, Mei managing to pull out a few laughs and smiles that Kuroo had to work really hard for most of the time. He caught himself off guard with soft smiles adorning his tired features, every single one being the result of each of Mei’s laughs or snarky remarks in whatever subject they were discussing. Never concerning himself with girls, never being a focus, never noticing, never deeming himself worthy of one’s interest, Kenma got trapped into a loop running inside his mind - she was breathtakingly beautiful. He even thought, dared to admit to himself, that Mei fit him too perfectly to be true. Who simply comes out of complete nowhere and has one’s heart fluttering with a simple smile?

“Miya, put me down!” Mei’s voice boomed into the gym, amusement laced with threat keeping everyone’s attention on her.

“Samu!” Atsumu Miya whined on the other side of the court, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “She’ll have us run around the gym again!”

5 seconds.

That was all it took for Atsumu’s twin, Osamu, to place Mei back on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around her waist before pulling her into a kiss. Heartburn blazed through Kenma’s chest at the sight, throat constricting to contain the nausea into an unswallowable knot.

The next day after they met, both had lunch together and spent the evening around the camp yet again, Kenma allowing himself to be pulled even deeper into a crush he developed in less than 5 minutes. Finding himself constantly in an internal race to make Mei laugh, grin or let out one of her dramatic, snarky remarks he grew to enjoy terribly, Kenma forgot why Nekoma was actually here and he did not mind. It was something so new, so heartwarming about how comfortable he felt around the girl, how their intertwined arms fit as if they were built for each other, how their laughs matched in tonality, how Mei’s smile seemed to grow even bigger whenever he was smiling as well.

Well .. that was until the third day, today, when Kuroo broke the news about who was the mysterious girl that seemed to be the only one around the training camp, the one that so effortlessly brought out a part of Kenma’s personality no one knew he had. She was none other than Mei Takahashi - Inarizaki’s team manager and Osamu Miya’s girlfriend. Not a fling, not a month old one but a serious girlfriend, dating for over 6 months. The speed with which this information slapped him was absolutely astonishing, Kenma simply staring at Kuroo as if he was a stranger, eyes piercing right through his best friend, mind emptying at the sound of his heart shattering abruptly to the ground.

“Kenma!” Mei called, arm waving in the air, bright smile adorning her all too beautiful features as Osamu spoke with Kita while his arms stayed wrapped around her waist.

At first, Kenma did not hear his name rolling off her lips and catching the attention of both teams, his eyes focused on the point where Osamu’s hands were tightly locked. Throat and mouth drying up, the pangs in his chest intensified, some kind of pain pressing on each nerve, even anger sipping through his pores. He loved and hated the feeling at the same time, realizing that it only took him 48 hours to morph that childish crush into pure feelings, teeth cracking under the pressure of the tightly shut jaw in an attempt to protect the usual unbothered demeanor he so effortlessly possessed. It was such a poisonous position to be in - having absolutely no issue with the boy that claimed Mei’s heart but, somehow, Kenma found himself wishing he would simply walk out the door and never come back. Thoughts of how he finally found someone that fits him, yet unable to reach, flooded an already filled to the brim mind, losing focus on how Mei’s steps were approaching. Only when her face obstructed Kenma’s blurry view he snapped back into focus.

“Kenma?” Mei asked, genuine worry written all over. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” Kenma nodded, averting his gaze.

“You’re not.” Mei countered, brows furrowing at the obvious lie - Kenma jolting in surprise as her palm landed on his forehead and pinching the skin with a bit of coldness, soothing the headache that overcame him. “Feverish.”

“Tired.” Kenma simply stated, unwillingly leaning into the comforting touch, catching on how Mei flinched slightly at the gesture.

“If she says you have a fever, I believe her.” Kuroo commented, studying carefully the entire scene unfolding before his eyes, already knowing what was going on - knowing since the first night when his best friend entered their shared room with the weirdest smile he ever witnessed.

“Come with me.” Mei urged, offering her hand. “I have something for it.”

“m fine.” Kenma replied, pushing himself off the floor and shoving the console into his pocket, continuing to avoid her gaze by turning to Kuroo. “Can I go?”

Being dismissed with a nod and a sympathetic look, Kenma turned his back on them, fingers balling up into tight fists hidden by the pockets of his shorts, and walked away before allowing himself to be consumed by feelings that had no right to exist anymore in this situation. Without looking back, he made his way into the room and got into bed, thoughts swarming rapidly.

“Why did I even think she is single? Stupid, I know.”

“Mei is funny, smart and sweet.” Kenma sighed, laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. “Her laugh is pure music and that smile she always wears is beautiful. She is .. beautiful ..”

“Did I assume she is single because of the video games? Why would that be a problem for anyone?”

“Of course Mei’s not single! One look is all one needs to realize that would be impossible. Why didn’t I see it?”

“And she is dating Osamu.” Kenma groaned at the thought. “The tolerable twin. If it would’ve been the other one maybe I would’ve had a chance. Who could possibly tolerate Atsumu Miya? Osamu on the other hand ..”

“He kissed her. It seemed to be with care and soft. He really does like her.”

“What do I even hold against him? Osamu is tall, well built, an exceptional player, looks really good compared to other boys and is nice all the time.”

Frustration bubbled to the surface, Kenma grabbing the pillow from under his head and throwing it at the other end of the room before listening to how it fell to the floor with a quiet thud. Palm resting on the chest, the only thing he wished for was for the heartbeats to calm down, to stop their erratic rhythm, wanting nothing more than to move on. There were 5 days left of the training camp, including this one, and he needed to find a solution, a balance that won’t keep him out of the game.

“Alright.” Kuroo spoke while walking inside the room, not even knocking as he came closer, towering over him. “You like her.”

“No.” Kenma pouted slightly, averting his gaze.

“You do and there is nothing you can do about it.” his best friend bluntly continued. “Will you sulk for the rest of the camp?”

“Yes.” Kenma replied, wincing at how quickly the admittance came.

“So you do like her.” Kuroo grinned, sitting next to him and noticing how the jaw muscles tensed at the words.

“She is nice.” Kenma sighed, turning to be met with the stupidest smirk he had ever witnessed before. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Alright, sorry.” Kuroo took a deep breath, adopting a serious expression, wishing to not crumble under the heaviness of his pride - Kenma was crushing on a girl, how about that? “True, Mei is really nice.”

“Smart and sweet.” Kenma mumbled, unable to believe the discussion happening right now. “Likes video games.”

“Now it makes a lot more sense.” Kuroo nodded, wanting to truly help in any way possible. “This is the first time in which you found your person.”

“My .. person?” Kenma frowned, not really on the same wavelength.

“Yes.” Kuroo answered with a shrug. “That specific one that fits you in the most perfect way, seems almost too perfect. Both share the same interests, mold together as if made for each other, there’s that fuzzy feeling all over, and, yet, there is a line that cannot be crossed.”

“Oh.” Kenma’s eyebrows shot up, a lot more interested in what his friend had to say.

“Unfortunately, in between you and Mei there is Osamu.” Kuroo pointed out, head cocked to the side. “As much as I tend to believe that your crush turned into something more, I have to ask - Why sulk and miss your chance at having such a great person in your life?”

“You mean .. be friends?” Kenma asked, eyes darting to the floor, teeth nipping at the inner cheek. “How?”

“This type of person tends to become one of the greatest friends one can have.” Kuroo answered with a small smile. “There is never an easy way out of what you feel. Usually, you have to bear through it and see the bright side of it.”

“How will I stop having feelings if she is my friend?” Kenma frowned, something not quite making sense just yet.

“With time.” Kuroo stated simply. “Time tends to have a resolve for anything.”

“Time, huh?” Kenma whispered, fingers playing with the material of the cover he sat on. “I- .. I’ll try.”

“Who knows?” Kurro grinned. “Maybe the tables will turn in your favor.”

“That’s not helping.” Kenma rolled his eyes, dropping back on the bed, all sprawled on it.

“We’ll see.” Kuroo chuckled while standing up. “I have to get back. Come back for the afternoon practice?”

“Sure.” Kenma nodded briefly, defeated even, gaze poking holes into the ceiling yet again.

“Congrats on your first crush!” Kuroo cheered, leaving the room before his friend could reply.

“I DID IT!” Mei cheered, falling backwards on the grass.

“Not fair.” Kenma mumbled, munching on a watermelon slice. “I told you how to do it.”

“But I passed on to the next level with my own strength.” Mei replied, face turned to look at the boy with a soft smile adorning her features. “Wanna do the next one?”

“Nah.” Kenma shook his head. “You’re better at it than I am.”

“True.” Mei shrugged, letting out a laugh the moment he raised an eyebrow. “What? I’m not humble.”

“Clearly.” Kenma smiled before resuming eating.

After the conversation he had with Kuroo, he took a deep breath, took a nap and returned for the afternoon practice, the first thing done being to allow Mei to check that there was no longer a fever in sight. She flinched yet again when he leaned into her touch, relaxing quickly after and smiling at the gesture. The next few days passed with Kenma clumsily attempting to view the girl as a simple friend, dividing his time between the team and hanging out with her - not staring as long as he used to, not focusing as much on her as he would usually do and avoiding witnessing as much as he could the display of various affections Osamu showered her in.

That did not mean that Kenma’s blood was not rushing at the same speed whenever Mei would grab his hand or hug him after a good set. That did not mean that his heartbeats were less erratic whenever she wanted to spend time only with him, alone. That did not mean that the pangs of pain, knowing he had absolutely no chance, lessened in intensity, still adoring the way she laughed, blushing whenever she would push the hair off his face by saying “why would you hide those pretty eyes?”.

However, with each passing day, it became more bearable, allowing himself to accept the fact that he would rather have Mei in his life in one way or the other rather than cutting her off for something that was not even her fault to begin with. Kenma went through each stage of anger, pain and disappointment that could possibly exist, realizing that he played some of the most fierce games against Inarizaki in this training camp than ever before.

Was it because his frustration had to be spilled somewhere? Probably.

Was it because he could see Mei watching his every move? Absolutely.

The simple, yet so sweet, cheer that erupted from her whenever he would do something beyond anyone’s expectation was something he looked forward to every single day.

“YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE OUR TEAM MANAGER!” Atsumu snapped one day, slamming his foot against the polished floor in the same way a child would do in a candy store when refused a lollipop. “ON OUR SIDE!”

“Instead of acting like a jilted lover, you should take notes Miya.” Mei responded, arms crossed against the chest, eyebrow raised at the audacity of the not-so-tolerable twin.

It was probably the first time every single person in the room saw Kenma laughing, genuinely, both teams joining in after the shock wore off, with Atsumu pouting, sitting cross-legged on the ground and refusing to play anymore. With chaos ensuing at such a statement, Mei and Kenma caught each other’s gaze through the net, soft smiles adorning both, not looking away for a few minutes, each with their own set of thoughts about the other. Kuroo tapped his shoulder - “We’re starting, lover boy.” - and he tore his gaze away from the girl that taught him more about himself than anyone ever managed to.

“You got everything?” Shinsuke Kita, Inarizaki’s captain, asked while looking around, handing Kuroo the only backpack left he found on the ground - their last day on the camp ending.

“We did.” Kuroo replied, hand all stretched out. “Thanks.”

“Let’s meet up soon in a real match.” Kita shook his hand, both staring at each other with polite smiles that hid determination.

“KENMA!” Mei called, rushing down a set of stairs while holding a small package.

“Mei?” the boy asked, eyes wide open while walking towards her, meeting at a safe distance from his nagging best friend.

“This is for you.” she smiled, handing him the package. “I’m sure you’ll love it. It’s my favorite game!”

“You didn’t have to.” Kenma whispered in surprise, staring at the beautifully wrapped up gift before blushing brightly. “But I- .. uhm .. I didn’t ..”

Out of nowhere, Mei pulled him into a hug, arms tightly locking around his neck, bodies completely flushed together as he felt his head exploding at the occurrence. Trembling from head to toe, Kenma swallowed harder than ever, face burning as all the blood rushed into his cheeks, all the suppressed feelings boiling to the surface in an instant. Clumsily, his arms raised and wrapped around Mei that patiently waited for the hug to be returned, knowing already that this was completely new for the boy. As seconds passed by, she stood into the embrace, waiting as long as it was needed for him to relax, Kenma unable to believe the patience she had with him. The moment his body melted against hers, Mei chuckled.

“You’re an amazing person, Kenma.” she whispered into his ear. “The best I’ve met so far.”

“T-thank you.” Kenma stuttered, unable to stop the trembling of his arms around her. “Y-you .. uhm .. too.”

“Don’t worry that you didn’t get me anything.” Mei followed, cheek pressing against his as she leaned into it. “Meeting you was more than enough.”

“Mei ..” Kenma whispered, surprise splitting across his face.

“And ..” Mei sighed deeply, shifting a bit into the embrace to be even closer than humanly possible. “I know.”

“W-what?” he swallowed, the tremble intensifying. “No idea what ..”

“I know, Kenma.” Mei followed calmly, tightening her arms around him. “And .. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Kenma gave in, shifting slightly for his forehead to rest on her shoulder. “There is nothing to be sorry for. We met 6 months too late.”

“No one knows but me.” Mei reassured him as if knowing he was afraid of the conversation that might occur with her team, Atsumu being relentless when teasing someone. “I do enjoy having you around. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Me too.” Kenma took a deep breath, coming out shaky and hesitant. “We’ll talk as much as we can.”

Pulling back slightly, both stared at each other, brown pooling into liquid gold, the sun slowly setting over them as the threads of a friendship tied through the feelings of two people that met in different times of their lives were tied even strongly. There was no bitterness or hurt, sadness or regret, but a sincere, simple happiness of both being able to be faced with a person that completed them perfectly - something many search for years and never able to find.

Mei’s heart unexpectedly skipped the first beat since she met the boy, seeing, truly, the way he looked at her - how simple, yet so pure.

Kenma’s heart started beating normally again, the erratic beats that tormented him for a week straight settling into peace, soft smile tugging at his lips feeling how Mei’s own heart boomed into the chest, vibrations being felt as they stayed glued to each other.

“Kenma ..” Mei whispered, pulling him into the final hug that was to serve as a reminder for until they’ll meet again.

“Hey.” he chuckled lightly. “Thank you.”

“Who knows?” Mei smiled, a sadness he was unable to see lacing the usually confident tonality. “Maybe one day.”

“Yeah ..” Kenma replied, squeezing her tighter than ever, memorizing to perfection the moment which every single person around them witnessed. “Maybe one day.”

Both parting from the heartwarming hug, smiles adorned their faces, Kenma turning on his heels and walking towards his teammates while tightly clutching Mei’s gift. After shaking everyone’s hand, Kuroo patted his shoulder with a nod and a sympathetic smile while Kenma turned around one more time. Hands clutched together on her chest, Mei simply stood there, leaning into Osamu as he had his arm around her shoulders, eyes glossy and keeping up the same beautiful, intoxicating smile Kenma fell in love with.

Yes, he now could easily admit that he fell in love for the first time - an experience that brought to the table more than anyone could’ve ever imagined. Kenma smiled back, knowing the tolerable twin would take good care of her.

Until .. maybe .. one day.

#kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma x oc #haikyuu #kenma fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x oc #kenma fluff #kenma angst #anime writing blog #anime x oc #haikyuu!!#haikyuu kenma #kenma scenario #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #kenma drabble #haikyuu drabbles

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titansandothers · 2 years

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Cat Outta The Bag

(This is a brief sequel to Kitten Kaboodle, taking place not long before Osmosis Woes.) The five Titans watched with bated breath as their newest adversary took on their greatest challenge yet. A giant mutant approached, multiple pairs of legs carrying the creature towards its target. Its antennae poked at the team’s newest member, detecting vital information about her. She held her stance, braced for a fight. This wasn’t her first time with such a creature, so she was mostly able to keep her cool. Still, the Titans worried for their newest friend. The creature finished its examination and gurgled its approval. Beast Boy let out a breath he’d been holding and managed a smile. “Haahh… Phew! Good boy, Silkie!” Raven proceeded to toss a yarn ball between the two, watching as her kitten batted at it, Silkie following suit. “Guess your shape shifting really did help them adjust,” Cyborg grinned, patting the changeling on his shoulder. “Yeah, Silkie’s seen me as a cat all the time and I turned into Silkie a bunch for Cinder,” Beast Boy beamed. “I am glad they are getting along,” Starfire announced. “One less worry for the Tower,” Robin nodded. “I’d still keep an eye on them when they’re together,” Beast Boy recommended. “Just until they reeeeally get used to each other. And Cinder grows some more.” The other Titans nodded in agreement. Beast Boy really did know best with this sort of thing, after all. “Are you guys hungry yet?” Cyborg asked for the third time that day. Robin let out a slight chuckle. “Yeah. I can probably eat now. Let’s go see this world famous barbecue place of yours.” “All right!” Cyborg shouted. “You sure you don’t wanna come, BB? They might have salad or somethin’.” “Who goes to a barbecue place for the salad?” Beast Boy scoffed. “I’m hangin’ back and making my own veggie B-B-Q!” “Raven?” Cyborg looked over. “Maybe after the excitement surrounding the place calms down,” Raven mused. “I’ll see you guys later.” “Suit yourself,” Cyborg shrugged. “More for us!” With one more cheer, Cyborg had essentially dragged Robin and Starfire to the exit. Beast Boy watched as the three left before turning his gaze back to the animals. “I had a feeling you were gonna go with no,” the changeling began, giving Silkie a few playful pats. “So I went ahead and planned some non-tofu stuff, if you want some. I know how you feel about fake meat.” “That sounds good, actually,” Raven replied with a slight smirk. “As long as it’s not tofu, your stuff is usually edible.” Beast Boy stopped what he was doing to look up at Raven with wide eyes. Did she realize what she had just said? Did she really just give him this opportunity? Whatever the case, he was taking it! A toothy smile practically devoured his face as he replied with, “Why, thank you, Miss Pancake.” Raven’s eyes widened, remembering too late that she couldn’t cook and her attempt at pancakes that year or so ago resulted in lumpy inedible sludge only Starfire could stomach. Beast Boy was cackling now, rolling onto his back. “You walked right into that so hard!” he wheezed. “That never happens! Why did the others have to leave before you gave me that opening!” “Don’t worry about it,” Raven’s brow twitched. “It’s not that funny.” “Aw, c’mon,” the changeling sat up. “Can’t you let me have this one? How often do I get to have a smart response?” “You’d have more opportunities for a smart response if your brain wasn’t the consistency of my pancake batter.” Raven rolled her eyes. “Ha! Good one,” Beast Boy grinned, despite having a sore spot hit with her response. “Alright, I’ll let it go now. Just remember that my offer for cooking lessons still stands.” Raven opted to play with Cinder instead of replying. “Right. You’re not a big veggie person…” Beast Boy trailed off. “I’m not a big imitation person,” Raven corrected. “I like vegetables just fine. It used to be just about all I ate.” Beast Boy blinked a few times, brow furrowing in confusion as he stared at her. “...Food on Azarath was all vegetarian,” Raven clarified. “Ooooohhh… Hey, wait! You were a vegetarian?!” the changeling squawked. “Why’d you stop?!” The magus was quiet a moment, wondering if she should tell him the truth. Making her decision, she let out a sigh. “Remember when we first got pizza as a team?” “Yeah?” Beast Boy cocked his head. “You remember how Cyborg teased you for not eating meat?” “Oh, right. Yeah, I remember that. I still don’t get what his obsession with meat is about…” “Well,” she averted her gaze. “I was really self conscious back then. I didn’t want to make a fuss, so I just… tried it.” “But I could’a had a veggie buddy,” Beast Boy whined, shoulders slumping. “You can still have one, you know. Just cut out the tofu and I’d eat a vegetarian meal no problem,” she shrugged. “I just don’t like tofu.” “I can do that,” he smiled widely at her. “Maybe we could make something together sometime so you can make sure I don’t add anything you don’t want.” “Maybe someday,” Raven replied simply. “Whoa. You’re actually considering it,” Beast Boy asked in awe. “Don’t make me reconsider.” “Heh. Got it,” he smiled nervously and returned his attention to their pets. “Atta girl, Cinder. Big ol’ Silkie won’t scare you.” “You sure like talking to animals…” Raven remarked. “Especially since you did it when I was sleeping.” Beast Boy blinked. “Wait. How did you know that if you were asleep?” “I woke up early once and tried to go back to sleep. I stayed quiet so you could leave sooner and we could go back to sleep.” “Oh.” A hint of a blush painted Raven’s features at the memory. This didn’t go unnoticed by Beast Boy, whose ears drooped nervously. “...What did I say?” Raven scoffed, trying to play it off. “You were saying you were proud of me for taking care of Cinder.” The changeling chuckled a bit awkwardly. “Well, I am. I never thought I’d see you caring for an animal.” A brief pause before he continued. “Now that I think about it, I never thought I’d see you good with kids either. Melvin, Timmy, and Teether love you though!” Love. There it was again. “Reminds me of something else you said…” Raven trailed off. “What else did I say?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Raven thought a moment, looking down at her now dozing kitten. “I should get her to bed,” she promptly changed the subject, scooping the kitten into her arms and heading for her room. “Wh- Hey!” Beast Boy exclaimed, following after her and stopping just outside her door. “What did I say?” Raven looked down with a quiet sigh before meeting his gaze. “I’ll give you a hint… I love you lots too.” With that, her door slid closed, hiding both teens’ flushing faces from each other.

#taoCatOuttaTheBag #optao #taostory #Beast Boy #Raven #She means love in a platonic sense.

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yippieitsarvensart · 8 months

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OK OK SO !!! HCS FIRST 👇👇

both the tweels > bpd, autistic. also partially blind in both eyes and wear contacts (morays have shit eyesight), their vision gets shittier the lighter the ambient, + they have shit balance but are pretty fast. they have long hair shaved on both sides, are black w/ vitiligo, notable on their face on the same side of their black hair strand (stolen hc), and have freckles with their merform's colors. oh and their gills never go out so they can breathe underwater + their ears are that shape i drew on floyd always, bc the potion cant take those things away. they have some scars from brawls in the ocean. in my head they also purr. AND theyre both transfem. to me. (they use any prns but mostly he/she) + theyre every gender under the sun & bissexual/panssexual, they date everyone regardless of gender

floyd specific > adhd. gets overwhelmed pretty easily and his meltdowns consist of him whining and crying and breaking stuff and wanting attention. can understand tone when hes in a good mood only + has super control of his tone & voice, not masking just very good w it. he can toletare tight clothing but as long as its 1 item, prefers large ones. also he likes enclosed spaces and needs stimulation 24/7, never stops never stills, either has music or is fidgeting. special interest is fashion (mostly shoes) :3c

jade specific > slight ocd. its not that big but its there. hard to get overwhelmed but when he does he breaks and throws everything around him, even people. has more difficulty w tone and his face + voice is almost always stuck in that customer service one, poor guy. absolutely LOVES tight clothing and tight spaces. hes not very hyperative hes just chillin most of the time. vibrating slightly sometimes when hes vv happy. special interest is mushrooms ofc!

bonus riddle > bdp, autistic, ocd. also has depression & anxiety. uses he/she and is transfem bigender sapphilean (mlm wlw) ! the white strand you comented abt on my art (thank you sm for the kind comments btw <33) is a hc that i have about the after effects of chap 6. she ended up having that white strand and cant seem to get it out no matter what... has dyed it before but gave up eventually. anyways she has chronic pain on her wrists bc of writing so much! i also hc that his overblot left burn scars on his arms, legs & face. in the begginings of nrc time he had an ED, but after his 3rd year he was very recovered and is now pudgy. her special interests are books & hedgehogs :D

(+ i can talk abt silver & sebek if you want :3c)

ANYWAYSS, jchshjds riddle is so silly hes so unaware of social clues poor guy..... its so funny that hes the only one out of the loop there. but they work it out eventually....

honestly im convinced sebek would try asking him on a date and riddle would accept but he would know it was a date. and this happened for a long time. until riddle told trey & cater about him, sebek and silver hanging out and they were like "riddle.... thats a date.... you guys are doing things boyfriends do" and hes all "we are What." jdjwndjsn

I DO HAVE TIME give me some ingredients (ideas) and i'll cook (write) . bc unfortunelly i am not so big on ideas rn 😔😔

also THE IMAGE ?!!??!(($!? HGJDHS ive saved it its so silbekrid....

I was literally looking at this in the morning while eating breakfast like "I'll respond to this after I eat" Now, 7:30pm, I start writing out a response. smh.

YOU LITERALLY HAVE THE CREATIVEST MIND EVER?? THE REALEST THOUGHTS IN THE GALAXY???

I have actually mentioned before that I also think the twins have shit eyesight and how I think it goes down is like; ONLY JADE uses contacts, Floyd finds the idea of putting those things ON YOUR EYEBALLS is like actually disgusting he would rather DIE. So he- Like Jade -Has prescription glasses, but he never uses them unless he's in his own room and wants to actually see clearly. Azul insists he wears them while working in the lounge because he doesn't need Floyd tripping over and breaking things, it would be annoying to clean up after him. (translated: I really don't want you to get hurt please wear ur glasses so I can stop worrying about you) I don't actually have hcs for the twins' sexualities n' genders but I feel like they're so nonbinary spectrum 2 me... and also bi/pan is so real 2me now thhank you... Tweels purring real... idc if eels can't actually purr they can now... The separate-specific hcs I agree with it all, very very super real

YES go ahead and talk about the other two as well I love your massive awesome brain it's so full of things and I need to study you under a microscope methinks... I love love love Silver especially, he's one of the characters that when I hadn't played twst yet he caught my eyeee and I was like !!!! :OOO pretty boy alert!! Although with Sebs it took a little longer, I've only just recently started liking him a lot more but with the help of hcs and deep diving into lore I have quickly warmed up to his character... Love the boy Love him <33

and Riddllleeee... ohhh Riddle <3333 I'm #FallingInLove for real (take this part as inspo for a fic if you want boo, I can write prompts all day) Riddle just being so confused when caycay n' Trey tell her he's been going on dates this whole time. Like why didn't I get told about this. Have we been dating this entire time and I didn't know. And then she has a crisis and freaks out about it because "what if Sebek and Silver didn't know either and they are literally just my friends and they see me as a friend-" and all these 'what if's' go through his head and it makes him go. coo-coo. So he's extra irritable, too many heads are rolling once again, and she's trying extra hard to avoid/ignore/turn down any of Sebek's and Silver's offers to hang out BECAUSE SHE JUST FEELS SO AWFUL ABOUT IT like they really. REALLY need to talk it out. SebeSil go to someone else (can't think of any1 rn, maybe lilia?) to ask for advice on what to do... AUUGHHH then idk 1000 words later they k-k-kiss and make up (like the song. aha)

#arvy asks #arvy... writes prompts?#also I did read the other ask abt ur response to the playlist #I just couldn't think of what to say in response so #I mean I think I accidentally deleted the ask but whatever #I read it don't worrieee

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benefits1986 · 1 year

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Digital Detox

When your modern daily cross is a black mirror, spending quality time away from it allows you to see the universe in full color. Fourth of May. Cinco De Mayo. My Taurus Twin Tower’s birthdays. V’s 40th death day. C’s death anniv. All died too soon. And this Labor Day... my ina’s 40th death day. The past weeks have not been easy but, I know something really curious is coming, or perhaps, already started. Still hanging by each moment that is either a spiral or a sparkle. What did I do the during my first-ever long leave this 2023? -Finally had a video call with my soul sister that turned out to be a session about the inner child conversations PLUS was able to finally tell her something I’ve been meaning to reveal since we were 17 years old (Yes. I’m that “not an open book” even to those closest to me.) -Visited ina’s grave several times without breaking down when no one’s watching and started planning her eternal home in a style that best represents her existence and her after life, too (Damn. This is not about the glam side of burial spots. It’s about carving her corner where her 70-80+ kids, grand kids and great grand kids can come together.) -Planning the restoration of my ina and ama’s humble home and turning it into a humble ancestral home which is so surprising as this has been a really, really crazy ride; but is here and now. (Never expected that we’d be on this page; but, hyperinflation is real so, let’s proceed with caution and a consistent set of actions. Will most likely focus on curating bits and pieces of my family plus restoring photos, mostly in film.) -MatchaME’s first voyage in the hilly sides of my ina’s sleepy town, an art hub in Laguna, another sleepy town where there’s a tiny eatery I grew up loving called Beatles (This happened during my Taurus Tito’s birthday.) In fairness, this B is really a good buy after the long wait since 2015. Will talk more about this soon because it deserves its own space and pace. HINT: No vinyl stickers, no bathroom tapes, no bike skin. Laspagan szn is on na ba talaga? Abangan ang B-Rides & B-Rolls: South To North Edition, mga ka-thiccs. LOL. -Seeing a red pimped pick up (Rar!) and a yellow butterfly during MatchaME’s first 7Eleven stop over. Cried fat tears in between chugging cold caramel mach and polvoron which again reminded me a lot of my Tito’s usual merienda in our roadtrips. The pick up was very much like my Tito’s aesthetic so it’s not about the glam car; but how it reminds me that I have to keep moving forward and that though a pick up is a dream; truth is, dreams could be demons and dragons, roaring in red, too. -Getting my teeth cleaned and hearing (again) that I have to stop munching on ice because my teeth are in good shape for my age BUT the cracks are gonna bring them down. The dentist is a Gen X liberal-conservative lady who wants to set me up with male people because she feels I am prime for survival with a pack. Later, she realized that she’s gonna have a really tough time looking for someone I can actually date. Let’s see what happens because I already politely declined but she insisted. LOL. Mhie, house plant era na po kasi talaga ako. -Getting a turtle named Master Splinter for Batulao garden house. :D I can no longer get another dog, so let’s go with the reptilian empire this time. Also, my inaanak Z has a pet turtle! -H1 life audit (jusq). No further comment, your Honor. And “so what?” and “what now” monologues. -Managing my dad’s looming spiral without him noticing it as a sneaky shithead me (LOL). Losing a mom is really life-altering. -Ambient noise and sound immersion. Didn’t listen to any PL and rarely watched any vids/content pieces which is so otherwordly. Ah, analog in lo-fi and hi-fi... you are liquid gold, indeed -Vitamin D dose :D (Still didn’t get caramel skin because my hair color is a blocker; but really had a good time under the morning sun plus sunsets, too) -Looking after my cousins as they face a final battle with the Big C in the family WITH specific boundaries -More hustle, more intent, a volunteer work that’s really close to my hidden heart and soul and a new workspace ---all these are coming this week onwards. Test of maturity, patience and intent. Never easy to be honest, but, I’m really, really, really excited. There’s something about the testosterone x estrogen x progesterone high and lows that gets me going. I really need to turn the “spiral” vibes to “sparkle” vibes. The spiral is not about work to make it clear. It’s about the road to 2024 and beyond. ;) LUH. My soul sister told me so many times that something is OFF the past weeks. Told her that, after so many struggles, I am choosing peace amidst the chaos, the noise and the non-essentials of the gods. She was taken aback and so I am. She also told me that my aura is radiating a glow. As an empath, she is amazed and still in disbelief because for the first time in forever, I might have been changed for good. Let’s see! May the Force be with you and me! PS: Really need to rewatch Star Wars. Road to geek na ba talaga ito? (Stereotyping na naman po tayo, so early in the morning!) Daming XY na tatawanan ako kasi mukhang kakainin ko mga bashing ko sa kanila from then until now a; but I don’t care. LOL. PS2: Hogwarts Legacy is still on my mind, heart and soul. :D Ang mahal though ng mga gaming consoles but, I’m thinking of making content out of this. Rar. Eto na ba ‘yun? Para naman sulit ‘yung effort saka first of hanashes in life. Abangan!

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bao3bei4 · 3 years

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fan language: the victorian imaginary and cnovel fandom

there’s this pinterest image i’ve seen circulating a lot in the past year i’ve been on fandom social media. it’s a drawn infographic of a, i guess, asian-looking woman holding a fan in different places relative to her face to show what the graphic helpfully calls “the language of the fan.”

people like sharing it. they like thinking about what nefarious ancient chinese hanky code shenanigans their favorite fan-toting character might get up to⁠—accidentally or on purpose. and what’s the problem with that?

the problem is that fan language isn’t chinese. it’s victorian. and even then, it’s not really quite victorian at all.

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fans served a primarily utilitarian purpose throughout chinese history. of course, most of the surviving fans we see⁠—and the types of fans we tend to care about⁠—are closer to art pieces. but realistically speaking, the majority of fans were made of cheaper material for more mundane purposes. in china, just like all around the world, people fanned themselves. it got hot!

so here’s a big tipoff. it would be very difficult to use a fan if you had an elaborate language centered around fanning yourself.

you might argue that fine, everyday working people didn’t have a fan language. but wealthy people might have had one. the problem we encounter here is that fans weren’t really gendered. (caveat here that certain types of fans were more popular with women. however, those tended to be the round silk fans, ones that bear no resemblance to the folding fans in the graphic). no disrespect to the gnc old man fuckers in the crowd, but this language isn’t quite masc enough for a tool that someone’s dad might regularly use.

folding fans, we know, reached europe in the 17th century and gained immense popularity in the 18th. it was there that fans began to take on a gendered quality. ariel beaujot describes in their 2012 victorian fashion accessories how middle class women, in the midst of a top shortage, found themselves clutching fans in hopes of securing a husband.

she quotes an article from the illustrated london news, suggesting “women ‘not only’ used fans to ‘move the air and cool themselves but also to express their sentiments.’” general wisdom was that the movement of the fan was sufficiently expressive that it augmented a woman’s displays of emotion. and of course, the more english audiences became aware that it might do so, the more they might use their fans purposefully in that way.

notice, however, that this is no more codified than body language in general is. it turns out that “the language of the fan” was actually created by fan manufacturers at the turn of the 20th century⁠—hundreds of years after their arrival⁠ in europe—to sell more fans. i’m not even kidding right now. the story goes that it was louis duvelleroy of the maison duvelleroy who decided to include pamphlets on the language with each fan sold.

interestingly enough, beaujot suggests that it didn’t really matter what each particular fan sign meant. gentlemen could tell when they were being flirted with. as it happens, meaningful eye contact and a light flutter near the face may be a lingua franca.

so it seems then, the language of the fan is merely part of this victorian imaginary we collectively have today, which in turn itself was itself captivated by china.

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victorian references come up perhaps unexpectedly often in cnovel fandom, most often with regards to modesty.

it’s a bit of an awkward reference considering that chinese traditional fashion⁠—and the ambiguous time periods in which these novels are set⁠—far predate victorian england. it is even more awkward considering that victoria and her covered ankles did um. imperialize china.

but nonetheless, it is common. and to make a point about how ubiquitous it is, here is a link to the twitter search for “sqq victorian.” sqq is the fandom abbreviation for shen qingqiu, the main character of the scum villain’s self-saving system, by the way.

this is an awful lot of results for a search involving a chinese man who spends the entire novel in either real modern-day china or fantasy ancient china. that’s all i’m going to say on the matter, without referencing any specific tweet.

i think people are aware of the anachronism. and i think they don’t mind. even the most cursory research reveals that fan language is european and a revisionist fantasy. wikipedia can tell us this⁠—i checked!

but it doesn’t matter to me whether people are trying to make an internally consistent canon compliant claim, or whether they’re just free associating between fan facts they know. it is, instead, more interesting to me that people consistently refer to this particular bit of history. and that’s what i want to talk about today⁠—the relationship of fandom today to this two hundred odd year span of time in england (roughly stuart to victorian times) and england in that time period to its contemporaneous china.

things will slip a little here. victorian has expanded in timeframe, if only because random guys posting online do not care overly much for respect for the intricacies of british history. china has expanded in geographic location, if only because the english of the time themselves conflated china with all of asia.

in addition, note that i am critiquing a certain perspective on the topic. this is why i write about fan as white here⁠—not because all fans are white⁠—but because the tendencies i’m examining have a clear historical antecedent in whiteness that shapes how white fans encounter these novels.

i’m sure some fans of color participate in these practices. however i don’t really care about that. they are not its main perpetrators nor its main beneficiaries. so personally i am minding my own business on that front.

it’s instead important to me to illuminate the linkage between white as subject and chinese as object in history and in the present that i do argue that fannish products today are built upon.

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it’s not radical, or even new at all, for white audiences to consume⁠—or create their own versions of⁠—chinese art en masse. in many ways the white creators who appear to owe their whole style and aesthetic to their asian peers in turn are just the new chinoiserie.

this is not to say that white people can’t create asian-inspired art. but rather, i am asking you to sit with the discomfort that you may not like the artistic company you keep in the broader view of history, and to consider together what is to be done about that.

now, when i say the new chinoiserie, i first want to establish what the original one is. chinoiserie was a european artistic movement that appeared coincident with the rise in popularity of folding fans that i described above. this is not by coincidence; the european demand for asian imports and the eventual production of lookalikes is the movement itself. so: when we talk about fans, when we talk about china (porcelain), when we talk about tea in england⁠—we are talking about the legacy of chinoiserie.

there are a couple things i want to note here. while english people as a whole had a very tenuous knowledge of what china might be, their appetites for chinoiserie were roughly coincident with national relations with china. as the relationship between england and china moved from trade to out-and-out wars, chinoiserie declined in popularity until china had been safely subjugated once more by the end of the 19th century.

the second thing i want to note on the subject that contrary to what one might think at first, the appeal of chinoiserie was not that it was foreign. eugenia zuroski’s 2013 taste for china examines 18th century english literature and its descriptions of the according material culture with the lens that chinese imports might be formative to english identity, rather than antithetical to it.

beyond that bare thesis, i think it’s also worthwhile to extend her insight that material objects become animated by the literary viewpoints on them. this is true, both in a limited general sense as well as in the sense that english thinkers of the time self-consciously articulated this viewpoint. consider the quote from the illustrated london news above⁠—your fan, that object, says something about you. and not only that, but the objects you surround yourself with ought to.

it’s a bit circular, the idea that written material says that you should allow written material to shape your understanding of physical objects. but it’s both 1) what happened, and 2) integral, i think, to integrating a fannish perspective into the topic.

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japanning is the name for the popular imitative lacquering that english craftspeople developed in domestic response to the demand for lacquerware imports. in the eighteenth century, japanning became an artform especially suited for young women. manuals were published on the subject, urging young women to learn how to paint furniture and other surfaces, encouraging them to rework the designs provided in the text.

it was considered a beneficial activity for them; zuroski describes how it was “associated with commerce and connoisseurship, practical skill and aesthetic judgment.” a skillful japanner, rather than simply obscuring what lay underneath the lacquer, displayed their superior judgment in how they chose to arrange these new canonical figures and effects in a tasteful way to bring out the best qualities of them.

zuroski quotes the first english-language manual on the subject, written in 1688, which explains how japanning allows one to:

alter and correct, take out a piece from one, add a fragment to the next, and make an entire garment compleat in all its parts, though tis wrought out of never so many disagreeing patterns.

this language evokes a very different, very modern practice. it is this english reworking of an asian artform that i think the parallels are most obvious.

white people, through their artistic investment in chinese material objects and aesthetics, integrated them into their own subjectivity. these practices came to say something about the people who participated in them, in a way that had little to do with the country itself. their relationship changed from being a “consumer” of chinese objects to becoming the proprietor of these new aesthetic signifiers.

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i want to talk about this through a few pairs of tensions on the subject that i think characterize common attitudes then and now.

first, consider the relationship between the self and the other: the chinese object as something that is very familiar to you, speaking to something about your own self vs. the chinese object as something that is fundamentally different from you and unknowable to you.

consider: [insert character name] is just like me. he would no doubt like the same things i like, consume the same cultural products. we are the same in some meaningful way vs. the fast standard fic disclaimer that “i tried my best when writing this fic, but i’m a english-speaking westerner, and i’m just writing this for fun so...... [excuses and alterations the person has chosen to make in this light],” going hand-in-hand with a preoccupation with authenticity or even overreliance on the unpaid labor of chinese friends and acquaintances.

consider: hugh honour when he quotes a man from the 1640s claiming “chinoiserie of this even more hybrid kind had become so far removed from genuine Chinese tradition that it was exported from India to China as a novelty to the Chinese themselves”

these tensions coexist, and look how they have been resolved.

second, consider what we vest in objects themselves: beaujot explains how the fan became a sexualized, coquettish object in the hands of a british woman, but was used to great effect in gilbert and sullivan’s 1885 mikado to demonstrate the docility of asian women.

consider: these characters became expressions of your sexual desires and fetishes, even as their 5’10 actors themselves are emasculated.

what is liberating for one necessitates the subjugation and fetishization of the other.

third, consider reactions to the practice: enjoyment of chinese objects as a sign of your cosmopolitan palate vs “so what’s the hype about those ancient chinese gays” pop culture explainers that addressed the unconvinced mainstream.

consider: zuroski describes how both english consumers purchased china in droves, and contemporary publications reported on them. how:

It was in the pages of these papers that the growing popularity of Chinese things in the early eighteenth century acquired the reputation of a “craze”; they portrayed china fanatics as flawed, fragile, and unreliable characters, and frequently cast chinoiserie itself in the same light.

referenda on fannish behavior serve as referenda on the objects of their devotion, and vice versa. as the difference between identity and fetish collapses, they come to be treated as one and the same by not just participants but their observers.

at what point does mxtx fic cease to be chinese?

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finally, it seems readily apparent that attitudes towards chinese objects may in fact have something to do with attitudes about china as a country. i do not want to suggest that these literary concerns are primarily motivated and begot by forces entirely divorced from the real mechanics of power.

here, i want to bring in edward said, and his 1993 culture and imperialism. there, he explains how power and legitimacy go hand in hand. one is direct, and one is purely cultural. he originally wrote this in response to the outsize impact that british novelists have had in the maintenance of empire and throughout decolonization. literature, he argues, gives rise to powerful narratives that constrain our ability to think outside of them.

there’s a little bit of an inversion at play here. these are chinese novels, actually. but they’re being transformed by white narratives and artists. and just as i think the form of the novel is important to said’s critique, i think there’s something to be said about the form that fic takes and how it legitimates itself.

bound up in fandom is the idea that you have a right to create and transform as you please. it is a nice idea, but it is one that is directed towards a certain kind of asymmetry. that is, one where the author has all the power. this is the narrative we hear a lot in the history of fandom⁠—litigious authors and plucky fans, fanspaces always under attack from corporate sanitization.

meanwhile, said builds upon raymond schwab’s narrative of cultural exchange between european writers and cultural products outside the imperial core. said explains that fundamental to these two great borrowings (from greek classics and, in the so-called “oriental renaissance” of the late 18th, early 19th centuries from “india, china, japan, persia, and islam”) is asymmetry.

he had argued prior, in orientalism, that any “cultural exchange” between “partners conscious of inequality” always results in the suffering of the people. and here, he describes how “texts by dead people were read, appreciated, and appropriated” without the presence of any actual living people in that tradition.

i will not understate that there is a certain economic dynamic complicating this particular fannish asymmetry. mxtx has profited materially from the success of her works, most fans will not. also secondly, mxtx is um. not dead. LMAO.

but first, the international dynamic of extraction that said described is still present. i do not want to get overly into white attitudes towards china in this post, because i am already thoroughly derailed, but i do believe that they structure how white cnovel fandom encounters this texts.

at any rate, any profit she receives is overwhelmingly due to her domestic popularity, not her international popularity. (i say this because many of her international fans have never given her a cent. in fact, most of them have no real way to.) and moreover, as we talk about the structure of english-language fandom, what does it mean to create chinese cultural products without chinese people?

as white people take ownership over their versions of stories, do we lose something? what narratives about engagement with cnovels might exist outside of the form of classic fandom?

i think a lot of people get the relationship between ideas (the superstructure) and production (the base) confused. oftentimes they will lob in response to criticism, that look! this fic, this fandom, these people are so niche, and so underrepresented in mainstream culture, that their effects are marginal. i am not arguing that anyone’s cql fic causes imperialism. (unless you’re really annoying. then it’s anyone’s game)

i’m instead arguing something a little bit different. i think, given similar inputs, you tend to get similar outputs. i think we live in the world that imperialism built, and we have clear historical predecessors in terms of white appetites for creating, consuming, and transforming chinese objects.

we have already seen, in the case of the fan language meme that began this post, that sometimes we even prefer this white chinoiserie. after all, isn’t it beautiful, too?

i want to bring discomfort to this topic. i want to reject the paradigm of white subject and chinese object; in fact, here in this essay, i have tried to reverse it.

if you are taken aback by the comparisons i make here, how can you make meaningful changes to your fannish practice to address it?

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some concluding thoughts on the matter, because i don’t like being misunderstood!

i am not claiming white fans cannot create fanworks of cnovels or be inspired by asian art or artists. this essay is meant to elaborate on the historical connection between victorian england and cnovel characters and fandom that others have already popularized.

i don’t think people who make victorian jokes are inherently bad or racist. i am encouraging people to think about why we might make them and/or share them

the connections here are meant to be more provocative than strictly literal. (e.g. i don’t literally think writing fanfic is a 1-1 descendant of japanning). these connections are instead meant to 1) make visible the baggage that fans of color often approach fandom with and 2) recontextualize and defamiliarize fannish practice for the purposes of honest critique

please don’t turn this post into being about other different kinds of discourse, or into something that only one “kind” of fan does. please take my words at face value and consider them in good faith. i would really appreciate that.

please feel free to ask me to clarify any statements or supply more in-depth sources :)

#x #-__- another fandom essay sorry

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

One Last Time 01 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 4.3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?

Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.

Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.

‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal. But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.

You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.

‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.

After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.

Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.

As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend.

‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “

“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”

You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.

“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “ You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.

“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”

“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.

She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.

You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet.

“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “

Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”

Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head.

You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”

“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”

“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily.

Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.

Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.

“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.

Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.

Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.

There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.

“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”

“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.

Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.

Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”

“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.

You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.

You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.

“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”

Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.

Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”

“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”

A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.

Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?

“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.

“ I’ll space you two apart.”

Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?

“ Wha-what do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”

“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.

Weird. When did they get so close?

The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.

‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “

Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.

After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.

You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”

She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.

The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.

The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.

All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.

‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.

“ Jeon Jungkook.?

The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.

As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.

‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.

Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?

With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.

The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.

All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.

‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.

‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’ You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.

‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.

A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.

Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’

Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.

You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.

Only for a knock on the door to interrupt their flow of jokes.

‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.

Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘

You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.

Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.

You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’

‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.

The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.

one..two..three..four..five..si-

‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.

Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.

‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.

‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.

‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.” You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.

The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’

She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’

You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.

‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘

She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’

‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.

Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.

‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.

She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’

You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’

Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’

Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.

“You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.

Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient

‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back.

‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.

Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do.

‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.

‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.

‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.

‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?” He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.

You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’

“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.

‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.

‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.

The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan.

Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.

His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.

You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.

Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?

“ Yn.”

Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.

‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.” You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.

You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.

‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”

‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.

‘‘ Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.

You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.

‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”

‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.

He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’

You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’

‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.

‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘

Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.

‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold

This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..

582 notes · View notes

onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

Hopeless - Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

◙warnings: female reader. mutual pining. a sprinkle of sexuality struggles. fingering, eating pussy, face sitting. fluffy, wholesome. SMUT.

◙word count: 3.9k

◙summary: You like Mikasa but you’re struggling a bit to come to that realization, and now you struggle to confess. But confessing goes really well.

You didn't mean for it to go like this. You feel hopeless. It started with curious touches in the shower after grueling missions and massages after training, gentle caresses whenever she looked worried. You didn't even realize it started to be more until Jean started teasing you about liking her. You were confused but now you had to confront something about yourself that you never have before.

But if it's true… it makes sense. You never really showed much interest in the boys of the village and whenever one tried to flirt with you, you'd clap your hand on their back and compliment them, completely oblivious of their affections. And whenever girls would set flower crowns on your head it would make your heart flutter, and your best friend as a kid that let hands wander in the barn before dinner. You tucked it away deep within yourself. The memories and the mental struggles of trying to figure it out. Who has the time when you are trying to become a scout and kill titans and avoid being killed by said titans?

Did her sharing food with you and no one else mean something? Did her waiting to go to the showers with you mean anything? What about when you two trained with each other to the point of exhaustion, laying beside each other out of breath with the evening air trying its best to cool your heated skin. Yes, you worried for her yes, you cared but was it romantic?

You dig hard into your brain trying out different scenarios in your head trying to figure it out.

People go on dates, get food, and sometimes coffee, but you've done that with her before. Her favorite coffee is a lavender latte because she doesn't like the bitterness as much as you'd think, and lavender reminds her of Eren's mother, and she likes the apples from the stall closest to the alley by the inn because they're the juiciest and the vendor is the nicest old lady.

Well, people who date also hold hands, and you've done that before too, dragging her through the city on a momentary day off or after missions when things got particularly gorey even on missions riding in a carriage to your destination you'd grasp your hand around hers and squeeze to let her know that you are there and you are there for her.

She cared for you too. You know it, now, comparing what she did with everyone else to how she treats you. How she teased Sasha but gave you her leftover bread, how whenever Jean and Eren brawl she puts some sort of barrier between you and them just in case, even though she knows you know how to handle yourself. The little glances of confirmation that you are eating, you’re still there. When she helped you in the shower after hurting your leg on that one mission. The tension in the air was thick but it wasn’t exclusively sexual, intimate and intense as she helped you wash off the day’s grime and massage the soap around your shoulders and thighs. Circling soap around your thighs and hips and when she would help you stand she would ignore your shy demeanor for the sake of your comfort. Maybe that’s when you should have confronted this part of you but you’ve refused and pushed it away all this time why not some more? You’ve knocked it down every time it peaks its glaring head.

And then the dreams came.

What you've seen in the shower pieces itself together in unholy ways while you sleep. You still can feel her hands on your body from when she helped you. The interesting positions you would end up in while training with her fueled the dreams as well. The muscles she dutifully keeps up with straining for you, her calloused hands on your body, her grey eyes peeking at you from between your legs. Other Nights you would be on top of her, making her bite at her lips trying to keep her moans at bay. Almost every morning you can't look at her when you wake up because it's still so vivid. She'd paint mosaics in your skin with her tongue and you feel like you finally understand what those worshippers of the walls feel because you would do anything for her, worship her, keep all her secrets and demand her safety. You've had dreams like this before, one with Annie when you were training that terrified you more than Annie herself. Or those times when you stayed in an inn above a bar and the owner's daughter with brunette hair would flirt with you every chance she got.

But dreams of this intensity, this frequency? Never. It's disturbing your daily life and you are hopeless. Hopelessly head over heels with a woman you can only read into so much. She is not an open book but you've seen a few pages and it's enough to have you hooked on the series. This time you can't push it down, or away into the deepest wrinkles of your brain. Your attraction for her is branded into your temporal lobe burning through your skull and it's this close to being shown on your forehead. Now the food she shares, the concern she shows, you fear you're reading too deep into her actions. After she asks Eren if he's okay then it's you and no one else. Every time you speak with her it feels like the sun has hit your skin even when it's nighttime. Everybody else sees it, everybody else knows vaguely what is going on, except Eren and Mikasa it seems. Eren because he's too thick in the head to even understand what's going on between you and Mikasa and Mikasa because… well you don't know. Maybe she's gained Erens obliviousness over the years or maybe she just doesn't get whatever the fuck romance is or consists of or maybe she does get it but doesn't let on that she does. Jean had to get over his crush on Mikasa because at least he can see how she cared for you, which you feel bad for because he probably has a higher chance than you. There are nights where the trouble realizations you've pushed away come back to crush you during the deep hours of the night when you're supposed to be asleep. You are glad you can cry quietly those nights but sometimes you can't and that's when Sasha spares you words to curl at your side as you sob into her shoulder. You don't speak of it the next morning, neither of you do, and you blame the irritation of the white of your eyes on bad sleep and sometimes allergies if you're lucky.

When it comes for the time of one of the riskiest missions, worry stringing through the air and through everyone's veins, seeping into dreams of the following nights, your struggling sexuality starts to simmer down with the rise of realization that your friends and Mikasa have chances of not coming back alive. But you're realistic, you aren't as powerful as Mikasa and she's almost at the skill level of Levi. You might die never telling her, or confronting yourself, and you think that might be your only regret if you drop dead right in this moment. A night before the mission and Jean nudges you with a solemn expression. You already know what he's alluding to, so you just nod at him. You don't want to talk about it or speak it aloud in general. He just thinks you are hopeless at this point. If you talk about it aloud it feels like you would just jinx yourself and you convince yourself that's partially the reason why you haven't said anything yet.

You see her with her short cut hair, looking so firm but so worried. Probably for Eren, and everybody, and the possible results of said mission. The overbearing threat of death doesn't make for bright moods.

So you don't do it. You don't confess. You abandon your mental script for now of what you were going to say. You needed a spark to get the fire going. To gain the courage to pour your heart out and how can you get this spark in such damp air?

Jean and Sasha give you a pitiful look before they get on their horses because they just know. Again, you're hopeless. The air around you and Mikasa is painfully consistent, the same as before and you look like you haven't slept in years. Levi has already scolded you for looking like shit, you don't need them on your ass as well so they don't say anything.

You are glad the mission is coming to an exhausting end. Your closest friends aren't hurt besides sore muscles and scratches and most importantly, Mikasa is in good shape. It's amazing what near-death experiences can do, and finally, the spark you were waiting for has been found, you've found the flint and steel to create it. Now, to actually figure out where to start that fire.

Turns out your chance is the day after you get back from the previous mission. A celebration dying down in the dining hall, your friends stumbling around like happy drunks as they should. You aren't drunk but the drinks you have had throughout the night make your chest heat up and your only thought is "now or never." Mikasa, sitting outside, alone and strikingly sober, looks like a stone statue carved by the gods with her sleeves rolled of her button-up rolled to her elbows. It's chilly outside but comfortable on your warm skin and part of you fears to disturb her, as if you're disturbing an artist's focus on their painting or a baker with their bread and you would ruin the process.

But the continuous chant of "now or never" continues like a hymn and you can't ignore it, or push it down. Sitting next to her isn't the nerve-wracking part, it's when you look into her eyes and now most of your pre-made script is thrown out the window and your heart is stuck in your throat. There are already tears swimming at your eye line but you've waited long enough to do this, you've sat in your own puddle of woes long enough.

She regards you with a hum and a twitch of her thin eyebrow because she can see the glossiness in your eyes. You're a soldier goddamnit but this seems scarier than fighting titans or other humans.

"I need-" You choke for a moment but continue, "I need to tell you something and I need you to listen." At least the beginning of your mental script has come in handy but the middle becomes muddled in your emotion-filled brain. She's nodding and scooting closer which encourages you to at least keep speaking, "if this doesn't apply pretend I never said anything okay?" It is rhetorical and much more of a demand than a question but she nods with a simple "okay," as you continue.

"Do you have room in your heart to love me?" Why did you have to phrase it like that? There were so many more options you could have chosen from but you said this one. It makes her sound so cold-hearted, but at least you won't make her choose, if she has room in her heart to love you, you just hope you can fill it. She looks at you with your quivering lip, hands clenching the table harshly to keep you grounded.

Mikasa is deliberating in her head. She knew to an extent how far her affections stretch for you, further than where Eren stands for sure. She didn't need to debate her own attractions as you have, it became very simple. She likes who she likes, it doesn't matter what they look like, as long as she deems them good and starts to think of them romantically. Ever since seeing you in training, and fighting along your side against titans, seeing you care for your peers so sweetly, she's held a special place in her heart for you. She's heard you cry at night and it pulled at her heart, tempted her to slide into your bed and hold you, but Sasha did that instead. Mikasa has felt a bit hopeless this whole time but now- She's been biting at her lip this whole time and the light taste of iron pulls her back to reality because she needs to answer before your tears fall. Something quick, simple, and to the point-

"I do love you," her own lip shakes a bit. Admittedly, she's surprised that so much emotion is pulled between the two of you. She would daydream about you two laying in the grass, casually confessing and falling into each other so easily like you always have, during fighting or strategy planning. She rests her hand to the side of your face, thumb wiping the stray tears as you let out a relieved sob. Pulling you to her, resting her hand on the back of your head, and shoving your face into her neck, you accept willingly. Mikasa doesn't know how to comfort, but she hopes you can feel her trying. It looks like you've been struggling because this obviously isn't just the remnants of alcohol in your system and she wishes she could have helped you earlier. Wishes she did crawl into your bunk when you cried. She can't help but shed some tears, out of sympathy, out of a relief that maybe now you don't need to hurt anymore, and now she can actually participate in your affections for her instead of pining like she usually does.

Your tears sting your lips but it's nothing compared to the emotional euphoria you are feeling. A feeling you only could describe as FINALLY. She pulls you to her face, pressing her lips into yours and you never imagined your first kiss with Mikasa would be a teary one. She tastes like iron from her bitten lips and you are sure the tears sticking to your own sting. Your teeth clank together a few times, letting out a few breathless chuckles. Both of you barely have experience in this field, but you fall into the paces of caressing each other easily. Maybe you two shouldn't be touching each other like this, right now after you've confessed. You're still outside, anybody could see but she's dragging you to her room which seems only a few paces away. There really isn't time to think, you're still riding this emotional euphoric wave and so is she. Maybe if she took a moment to think and not just take you to her bed right away then she would stop but Mikasa doesn't actually want to think logically right now. She has pined silently long enough, maybe she deserves to give into this. These temptations with the little voice nagging at the back of her mind that "wouldn't she look so good bent over the table right now? What about you pulling her to sit between your thighs to-"

You two bump into a tipsy Sasha on the way but the look in Mikasa's eye makes her shut her mouth and get out of the way quickly. You can hear her scurry off and yell-whisper something to someone but that doesn't quite matter right now because the woman you've been craving since the start is pulling you to her bottom bunk bed to sit on top of her. That script you've forgotten definitely did not include this, but you aren't complaining.

She's grasping at your hips, groping at whatever she can to keep you close and you're doing your own damage. Digging your fingertips into her muscles and chest, rolling your hips into her thigh that rubs just the right spot along the seam of your pants. You aren't exactly being soft but based on her little moans and grunts in between your kisses you think that she probably likes your roughness. Though you do like her in a white button-up she looks better without it, granted she feels exposed but making it even is easy when you're so willing to be stripped by her. You can't help but wish you could touch her chest a little longer because her cheeks only darken more and more every time you tweak her nipples and suck dark maroon marks into her chest, her reactions are priceless. She's pulled you to her, chest to chest to suck at your neck, biting against your skin leaving a kiss after each nip that makes your skin hot. Eventually, she pushes you back to fall into the bed and yanks your pants off as quick as she could manage leaving your thighs to frame her shoulders, knees almost to your chest. It's highly humiliating, she's staring at you from between your legs, and the eye contact from earlier when you were confessing that you thought was nerve-wracking compares nothing to the look she's giving you now, glancing between your eyes and your cunt.

She's devouring you, liking stripes along your folds as you roll your hips into her mouth. The echoing of footsteps along wood makes you freeze and bite the back of your hand to your mouth to stay quiet but Mikasa doesn't stop. Her actions make your thighs clench around her head and she's gripping your thighs while she eats you out mercilessly. You're glad the footsteps leave, or at least you hope they have but your attention is solely on Mikasa and her fingers are working their way into you, twisting at all the right spots. You're both clumsy and inexperienced but everything just feels good, simply wonderful, both of you completely content with each other in this moment as you try to grip at her smooth hair. A climax slowly approaching like a steady march along your belly with her tongue flicking along your clit-

Regrettably, she pulls back, your slick covering her lips and chin, even her nose. She leans over you, brings your lips together once more and she tastes like you, so embarrassingly slick and almost flavorless but so undeniably you. Her fingers are still working inside you and her palm is rubbing against your clit messily, not as precise and erotic as her tongue but it still makes you clench around her nonetheless. It leaves you gasping, "Where-" another slick kiss, "where did you learn this-" one more. She pulls back to sit on her calves and sends you an almost smile, "I'm a woman too," as if that could satisfy the question but she continues, "touching myself to the thought of you gives me at least a bit of experience." Oh. Oh. She said that so bluntly and you bet she did it on purpose just to fluster you and it's succeeding.

But seriously, her fingers are making your eyes roll back in your head and she's hitting the most sensitive patches in your cunt that make your mind go fuzzy so you can't focus at all. She eats your moans and sweet little half pleas she's cut off with kisses and by the time your climax finally reaches you, you accidentally bite her lip as your walls clench around her fingers sporadically. Her lips were already raw with her nervous tick but with you biting, it feels different and entirely refreshing. There are tears clinging to your eyelashes left from your orgasm and she sits back to watch your chest heave and suck your cum off her fingers loudly.

Mikasa really is a devil, but who are you to not give in to her, to try to make her feel good as well? There's still adrenaline from your climax running through your veins so you'll use what's left to get her off, it's the least you could do. Part of it is entirely self-indulgent though, to watch her fall apart from your hands.

"Sit on my face," it shocks her a bit but she won't deny that this is something she wants to indulge herself in, so she sets her thighs on each side of your head with her hand braced against the bottom of the bunk above her. She has to tilt her head a bit awkwardly but she's a bit more focused on how you're spreading her wet cunt out and lapping at her clit to care. It's horribly loud because her cunts been drenched since she started kissing you. Her hands grasping at your sides to keep steady, muscles flexing and thighs shivering it all feels like too much. She curled her fingers like this, and maybe it's a universal trick because she tightens and gasps. Not loud, Mikasa never is but the soft mewls she lets out are worth the work, grinding down into your mouth. Flattening your tongue against her and your wrist is twisted in a weird way to keep thrusting into her, continuously curling, and she's so close to falling apart above you. Her hand grips the board of the bunk above her so hard it cracks and she falls apart on your tongue with a gasping groan and one last roll of her hips.

The realization that you're her arms, that she loves you back hovers over you again and it makes the night so much sweeter. But you both really need a shower and your eyes are already drooping, begging for some sleep.

When the rest of the girls finally make their way back to their beds they have to do a triple take of Mikasa's bed because both of you are intertwined with each other under the sheets, dead asleep with her hair still slightly damp from the shower. As much as Sasha wants to coo at you two she can't help but remember the scary look in Mikasa's eyes when they crashed earlier, so she lets the feeling of happiness for her friends wash over her silently. By the next morning, both of you are late for breakfast, and Jean is starting at the two of you as you both eat.

"So… you two finally find out you were in love with each other this whole time?" Mikasa flushes up to her ears and you freeze up like a deer in headlights. Silence.. until Sasha leans over and whispers all too loud, "They fucked. You could smell it in the room," and a spoon makes contact with her forehead almost making her blackout. Jean goes completely red and Eren stutters out incomprehensible sentences mostly involving "what's going on? What they're dating? You liked her? Mikasa why didn't you tell me-" No one feels like updating him so they just let him ramble. Connie is a bit red too, "so yall are actually dating?" It makes your heart beat faster than you expected. You love your friends you know they wouldn’t be ignorant or mean but still, the worry pulls in the back of your head.

Well, you two really didn't talk about dating after you confessed, and- well that part of the dynamic didn't really cross your mind until now. Mikasa grips your thigh under the table, "She's my girlfriend," she says so loud and clear you could hear it across the dining hall, laced with a bit of possessiveness. Just barely you can hear Levi scoff out a "They're hopeless."

You guess you are, but at least you are hopeless with her. And after all this time, your struggles are put to rest deep in the back of your mind to stay for good.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

1K notes · View notes

alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Invisible String

Although Spencer Reid and the Reader don’t find themselves in a romance with each other until well into their adulthood, their relationship has been decades in the making. Almost as if something as been pulling them together all these years.

A/N: sorry for such a long wait but i’ve been struggling a lot mentally as of late. i hope you guys enjoy this one shot!! As always requests are open and heavily encouraged!! And of course this is inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name :)) Also keep in mind although the following scenes are heavily inspired by some scenes in Criminal Minds, elements of them have been slightly altered to fit in Y/N as a character.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute strangers to lovers fluff fic!

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: typical criminal minds case discussion, mentions of child trafficking when discussing this case, but no real detail. slight spoilers for season eight (beginning maeve stuff) and tiny spoilers for season fifteen (briefly mentions max but nothing really important to the plot at all)

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?”

You had met Spencer Reid 3 times before you had really met him.

It was almost silly to think about it now. Now that you and Spencer have been dating for 3 years, it was strange to believe there were so many chances for you two to meet years earlier.

When you were sixteen years old, you got your first part time job. You worked at a self-serve frozen yogurt shop called Iced Dreams. You hated it so much. Your manager was a total creep, your older coworkers were rude and condescending to you, since you were one of the youngest people working there, but most of all you hated the uniforms.

Consisting of a very stupid looking hat, bright pink with randomly embrodiered teal patterns, an outdated bright teal shirt, it had been given to you from a dirty bin in the back, and judging by the sewn in shoulder pads, it had to be at least a couple decades old.

So one day, you didn’t wear the hat.

It wasn’t entirely purposeful. You couldn’t find it, you searched your room, you searched your car, so eventually you had to leave without it to prevent being late. Still, as you clocked it and passed the box of extras in the office something made you decide to leave it alone.

You were about 8 minutes into your shift when your manager approached you. “Y/N? Where’s your hat sweetheart?” You hated this man so much. You had gone to your parents time and time again, recounting his creepy behavior towards you and the other teenage girls who you worked with, but they refused to let you quit.

When you had started working there, he used to enforce this ridiculous rule that all the female workers had to wear skirts as part of their uniform, but you had gathered all the sixteen and seventeen year olds who worked there and all threatened to quit if he didn’t change the policy. So you were no stranger to breaking and defying the rules.

“Yeah I couldn’t find it, sorry.” you shrugged.

He chuckled and reached his hat out to touch your face. You jerked back, you almost wanted to refuse to wear one of the stupid extra hats just so that you could get fired.

“Well, Y/N its policy sweetie. No matter how special you are to me you still need to wear the hat. There’s extras in the office.”

“No way I’m wearing one of those. I bet they have like lice or something.”

He pursed his lips and sighed “Well I suppose that beautiful hair is just too pretty to wear a used hat huh. . . What do you suggest? If you’re working you have to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well you could let me go home.”

He paused, “Why don’t you go sit in the office, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

So you did, for about 10 minutes you sat in the office, surrounded by frozen yogurt flavor marking posters and boxes of old uniforms, and each passing minute you feared for the worst. Maybe you were actually getting fired? You really didn’t want to go that far, because, as much as you hated it, you really needed this job.

When your manager finally came to talk to you he held a small salted caramel frozen yogurt, your personal favorite flavor, and a twenty dollar bill. He handed them both to you.

“You seem so stressed Y/N, why don’t you take the day and go get lunch. My treat,” he said, smiling that weird twisted smile that always made your full body shiver.

However you were broke as hell, and no teenager in their right mind would ever pass up free food, so you took it, grabbed your keys and started to leave

Yet as soon as you walked out the back door you dropped your frozen yogurt, cup fully upside down, onto the pavement. You cursed, you hadn’t even taken a bite of it yet, and it looked like he had put coconut flakes on it, and you loved coconut. Still, you had your twenty bucks, and that was a pretty sweet pay out considering you were only clocked in for about 20 minutes.

So you got Chinese food, and spent what was supposed to be your shift in the shopping mall across town, completely and blissfully unaware of the fact the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was dragging your manager away in handcuffs.

➽───────────────❥

Young Spencer Reid had only joined the FBI about a month ago. Despite being a genius, and providing crucial information to the solving of cases, he was aware of the most obvious. He was only twenty two years old, and he was scrawny as hell.

He felt this intense need to prove himself, especially to make Gideon proud.

So when they got a case about a the kidnapping and sex trafficking of teenage girls, he saw it as something he could really involve himself in. Based on the profile, it wasn’t going to be a large, strong, confident unsub who Morgan needed to tackle. This man would be ugly sure, but he would be a manipulative mastermind. Reid could work with that, he could prove himself.

He surprised everyone with his sheer work ethic and determination to find this man, and through consistently revising and delivering the profile soon enough they got a hit. A young woman in her early twenties called the tipline and reported her own manager. Insisting he fit the profile perfectly, and described how strangely he treated the minors who worked there, and how he almost exclusively hired young girls, treated them great and then switched as soon as they became legal.

So Garcia did her magically digging, and soon enough the FBI was tearing up a frozen yogurt shop, looking for any evidence of pedophilia. Garcia was even brought along, as she was pivotal to discovering any secret files in his computer.

At first, all they could find were strange compilation videos and under employees skirts. Spencer, and the rest of the team, were struggling to connect how he could get so many videos from an angle like this without anyone noticing or reporting him, until Gideon uncovered an old dusty pair of shoes, in which the right one held a small camera at the toe.

Although this was absolutely disgusting, it wasn’t enough to prove he was running the ring or kidnapping the girls, so Garcia kept digging. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to make himself useful by checking out the back of the store.

That’s where he found your clock-out receipt.

“Hey guys, we might want to take a look at this,” he shouted out.

Morgan grabbed the paper from his hand, “Ok, I don’t get it kid, it’s trash.”

Spencer pointed to the details on the slip, “Yeah but it says here she clocked out 18 minutes ago after only working for 23 minutes and 46 seconds. If this guy is our unsub, this girl could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe she’s still here, has anyone checked out the parking lot yet?”

Spencer shook his head, and followed Morgan out the back door. There they discovered some almost completely melted salted caramel frozen yogurt.

Morgan bent down to investigate, “Yeah, we gotta get this to the lab, but I can tell you right now that there’s clearly more than just coconut topping this yogurt. It also means we have another victim.”

Spencer crouched down as well, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean kid? We’re missing a teenage girl and we’ve already found illegal evidence on this guy's computer. She’s in trouble.”

“Well judging the shape and inscription of these pills it appears to be some pretty strong rohypnol, almost certainly prescription grade. And ingesting it like this means she probably would have begun to feel its effects fairly early, I would predict 15 minutes. She clocked out 18 minutes ago, so even if she left exactly at that time she would have certainly crashed her car on the way home. The nearest residence is 8 minutes away from here, we’re in a complete shopping district. There’s only two cars out here and neither have a passed out driver, so I would bet she didn’t eat any of it. Also, the only spoon out here is still wrapped in plastic, “ Spencer analyzed.

Morgan sighed, “Well what do we even do then?”

Before Spencer could answer Hotch opened the back door. “We got him.”

Spencer turned to Morgan, “I’m sure her phone number is somewhere inside, I say we call her and make sure she’s ok. She probably doesn’t even know this is happening right now.”

So he did find your phone number, and although he initially pushed the phone to Morgan, he just chuckled and pushed it back.

“No way pretty boy. You’re the know-it-all with all that profiling out there, you can call her,” and before he could protest Morgan left, so Spencer was left to call you.

And strangely, for it being the first time he would ever interact with the love of his life, he thought nothing of it.

And that was the first time you had met Spencer Reid.

➽───────────────❥

The second time was years and years later, when you were waitressing night shifts to make extra money. You had never forgotten meeting Spencer Reid the first time, but this was the first time you would ever see his face.

You were slightly concerned when you got a call from a man, whose name you had now long forgotten, claiming he worked for the FBI. Although you weren’t incredibly surprised to hear your manager committed such heinous crimes against children, you were taken aback by how close you had come to becoming one of his victims.

But that was 9 years ago. In your college days it became a fun story you told at frat parties, but you were 25 now. Sometimes you would think about the incident when you couldn’t sleep, and if you were feeling feisty you would use it as an icebreaker or a “two truths, one lie” statement, but otherwise you didn’t really think about it.

You had plenty of other things to worry about, in fact, that’s exactly why you worked so much. It was so much easier to forget when you were constantly preoccupied with complaining customers and terribly awkward blind dates.

You had just sat this man, incredibly handsome, however it was clear he was on some kind of date. His reservation was for two, and he spent way too much time adjusting his clothes and table setting for him to not be trying to impress someone special. He also brought a gift, which judging by the packaging and shape, seemed to be some kind of wrapped book.

Even though he was 15 minutes early for his own reservation, he still looked really nervous, almost like he already believed she might not show up. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to go talk to him.

“Anyone ever tell you you should model?” you started with.

He looked up “Excuse me?”

“Sorry for being so bold, you just look so familiar,” he weirdly sounded very familiar as well, but you didn’t tell him that. “Are you sure you haven’t modeled? You have excellent bone structure. I bet you could.”

He laughed to himself, “yeah I’m sure.”

“Well your date is very lucky either way. I wish I had a boyfriend as handsome as you. Actually I wish I had a boyfriend period, but that’s a whole other story.”

He chuckled, and although you knew in your heart that you shouldn’t be flirting with him considering he was 15 minutes away from being actively on a date talking to him made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “What happened with your boyfriend? Do I even dare ask?”

“Well I kind of always knew he wasn’t super interested in me, but I really liked him, so I did my best to ignore his wandering eyes,” you sighed. “That didn’t stop him from leaving me for his coworker though.”

“That’s terrible.”

You smirked, “That’s not even the worst part, he broke up with me over a 27 second phone call. He didn’t even let me respond, he just kind of hung up.”

“I’m sorry, no one deserves that. Especially not you. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple minutes and I can tell that.”

“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.”

You smiled, “Well I should probably stop flirting with you now, considering your date hasn’t even started yet. And don’t worry, she’ll show, you’re so handsome she’d be stupid not to.”

He looked confused. “You were flirting with me?”

You laughed, “I thought you were good at reading people?”

He smiled back at you, and it made your heart soar, this silly, pure goofy smile that made you want to replace his date and have dinner with him right then and there.

You walked back to your hostess stand. A couple minutes later you noticed the handsome stranger on the phone. You thought nothing of it until later when a woman came in, clearly nervous, holding a gift bag.

“Can you give this to Spencer Reid for me please?” You recognized the name, the man you were just speaking with had filed his reservation under it.

“Um, yeah sure, aren’t you going to go in? He’s at that table over the-” but before you could finish your sentence the woman was gone. Your heart sank, poor Spencer, how could someone drop their date off a gift but stand them up anyway? That’s just cold.

When you get up to bring the gift to him, he’s already heading out of the restaurant himself.

“Sir? Spencer? Dr. Reid?” he turned his head. “A lady came in and dropped this off for you.”

His face dropped, it almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank you,” he said as he looked up at you before leaving.

He ran out the door, both gifts in hand and whipped his head around a few times before sighing and speeding off in one direction. Even before you learned what happened after that and leading up to it, you felt terrible for the handsome stranger.

How could you not for someone so clearly distressed? Someone so clearly in love?

➽───────────────❥

7 years and a divorce later you were spending your Saturday in a park, strangely contemplating love itself. Although you barely remember that night all those years ago when you spoke to Spencer, he did. Vividly. In fact, on this Saturday you both were in a public park, contemplating your many failed attempts at true love.

It was your first wedding anniversary without your husband. Although you had only been married for two years, you still were having a hard time navigating life without him.

You started to wonder if you would ever find the true love you had been wishing for since your youth. Was 32 too late? Had you lived out all of your opportunities?

When you were little your mother had told you that all soulmates were attached at the left ring fingers, by small, incredibly thin strands of gold string, invisible to the naked eye. She insisted that these strings were constantly trying to pull you and your soulmate together, and that when life was ready for you two to meet, you would.

Until then, you would have small, mindless interactions. Things you wouldn’t think about, maybe even things that weren’t interactions at all. You would get the same commercial jingle stuck in your head. You would both get an intense craving for the same food. You’d have the same dream.

As a kid you were obsessed with this idea, you thought it was so romantic, and you fully believed everything your mom told you about it. You always asked her for more stories, and at bedtime you refused to sleep unless she would tell you more.

But now you were sure soulmates, true love even, didn’t exist. The invisible pretty gold strings your mother weaved fantastic stories with were completely fabricated. If they weren’t, you would have seen the clues by now.

Right?

➽───────────────❥

Spencer Reid was given an assignment from his therapist. He had to spend his Saturday off trying to interact with a stranger. Making friends with someone other than his colleagues may seem like a simple task for some, but it was something the young genius had almost no experience with.

He understood that it was probably for the best. He wasn’t exactly great with relationships of any kind, but especially not romantic ones. It didn’t take a genius to know that a couple of flirtations, a dead girlfriend he had only seen once, and a long time unrequited (or at least he thought unrequited) infatuation with his best friend and godsons’ mother was not a very great track record.

He, just like you, was also beginning to believe that he was hopeless when it came to love. That 38 was too old, that his time to meet someone and have the children he dreamed of had long passed.

But right as he was about to call JJ, to see if she would invite him in on the case Garcia had started to work on, he saw you.

Unlike you, he remembered your face and your interaction vividly. That almost date with Maeve was one of the biggest defining moments of his life, and what are the chances that the waitress from that very night was now less than 30 feet away from him, reading under the green leaves of a tree.

He wasn’t going to say anything, until he saw the book you were reading.

The Narrative of John Smith.

It must have been a sign, for what he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it just had to mean something. The universe had to be reaching out to him, he had experienced crazier things.

And just as he was about to walk over to you, to close the gap between the gold strings tied around your ring fingers, a child interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s a strange haircut.”

➽───────────────❥

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were finally reuniting after many years. They barely got to see each other these days, but even though he was teaching and working at the BAU, Spencer still was willing to clear his schedule to second Derek suggested they meet up.

Morgan was excited as well, both to see his friend and to hopefully help him get a date. Sure, he had liked what he had heard about Max, but he wasn’t exactly surprised it had only lasted a couple months between her and Spencer. They just seemed too different.

Plus, now he got the chance to play wingman again, and he was ecstatic about that. Spencer not so much.

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s only been a couple months since we broke up. Wouldn’t it be too early to start talking to other people?”

“Pretty boy, you and I both know that the rate in which you’ve had relationships is not even close to the average. You need to balance that out somehow.”

Spencer sighed, he knew Derek was right, but he still felt strange.

“Morgan, have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”

“No, but I’m sure I’m about to hear all about it.”

“It’s an East Asian philosophy, based on the discovery that the ulnar artery connects the heart with the pinky finger, actually that’s where the belief in pinky promises come from. The reason it’s integrated in so many different cultures is that-”

“Kid, you’re losing me here,” Morgan interrupted. “Finish your thing about the string.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s the idea that human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break. Essentially, the idea is that although we might not realize it, our lives move in a pre-ordained direction, guided by invisible strings that are woven into the fabric of the Universe itself. And all the while, the red thread connecting us to our distant soulmates is getting shorter.”

“Well it’s an interesting theory kid, but it’s a lot to think about. I mean, we’re in a bar, let loose a little bit. Not every interaction has to be about getting closer to your soulmate. And sure, maybe you’ll meet them one day, maybe even soon. But you’re here now, and just because your one true love may not be, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to be here.”

Spencer sighed, “You’re right. I don’t even know if I believe in that anyway, maybe I’m just looking for something to explain this all.

Derek patted his friend on the shoulder, “okay pretty ricky, this is how it’s about to go down. I’m going to buy you two drinks. You’re going to take both of them, and go find someone, anyone here to go talk to.”

“Ok, I think I can do that. Who?”

Derek looked around, trying to find who he believed would be the best match for his friend. “How about her?” he asked, pointing at you.

Spencer couldn’t believe it when he looked. There you were, the girl, the one he had met three times before, even if he could only remember two. The woman he knew was some sort of universe sent sign that Saturday he saw you underneath the greenery. The girl he was so close to talking to before he was interrupted by Max’s nephew. The woman who (and he obviously did not know this at the time) he would marry 3 years later. The one who would carefully knit the baby blankets for all of their friends and exes. The one who he would adopt 3 children with. The woman who, he was now sure, was at the other end of his invisible string. The girl he needed to talk to right now.

“Is it just me,” Morgan said, “Or does she look kind of familiar?”

“Yes,” Spencer responded, “yes she does.” He got up quickly and started making strides towards you.

“Wait!” Morgan called, “You forgot your drinks!”

“I don’t need them!” he shouted back. When he sat down next to you, you smiled. It made his heart soar, you had this silly, pure goofy smile that made him want to ask you out right then and there.

Instead he settled on the only conversation starter he could think of.

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string story?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

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