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#like i have not written anything in WEEKS i just keep jumping between documents and staring longingly at them
hella1975 · 2 years
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my brain: im stressed for exams
me: let's study then so we feel more prepared
my brain: no. we're gonna procrastinate because we're so stressed
me: that makes no sense, but okay. why don't we do something we enjoy to feel better?
my brain: no because then i'll feel guilty that i'm not studying
me: so let's study
my brain: NO
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something-pithy · 5 months
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Heyo, glittercats and kittens! So chapters 6 and 7 of an echo, a stain are up! And starting this week, I'm going to start including story notes along with the link.
I'm a note writer lol. Part of how I even begin to keep track of all the wildness of writing something longer than a grocery list is to write about it before I start writing it, if that makes sense lol. Character sketches, ideas about why certain things are happening, backstory, setting details, etc.
I'm pretty verbal about my writing process because -- well,  I like writing about writing a lot, and also, I think it improves both the work and how I get there. Anything might end up here -- character sketches, ideas about why certain things are happening, backstory, setting details, etc. I don't really wanna be leaving like eighteen thousand words of notes on every chapter, so here we are!
Sometimes I think they might add some interesting context for readers, sometimes it's information that I think is important but it's too much for the notes section on the story itself, and sometimes it's just so I have a document of my progress for this story. So here are my notes for chapter 7! ---
Chapter 7's title is from "Come to Me" by Bjork, which is definitely one of my Astarion / Tav falling in love themes for when I'm up in these flashbacks, back before Astarion Ascended (and he still had a soul loool).
The notes from previous chapters had promised a Shadowheart & Tav conversation in this chapter. This is not the Shadowheart & Tav chapter I promised, but it is the one that continued to demand to be written until I capitulated. 
And also, honestly, the one that's going to benefit that other chapter that was supposed to be 7 and the story as a whole in the long run, so I hope you like it! 
I was getting really stuck with my original plan, and so I just started writing -- well, this. And the chapter after this. And possibly the one after that. Loooool there is a LOT going on at this point in these kids' lives.
The original plan is still 100% happening, but I think I needed to 
1. explore the foundations of who these people have become (by these people of course I mean Tav and Astarion, but also friendship is magic, so our beautiful OG friendgroup babies) 
2. what the relationships between them look like and 
3. some clues, at least, as to how they got there. 
(tl;dr we're purposefully time-jumping, and I'm having fun with it, so I hope you will, too!)
But never fear, Shadowheart and Tav will of course be chatting when we return to the story's present. And it won't be in just one chapter.
OR
hey y'all, we're gonna be doing some purposeful (and hopefully at least coherently executed) flashing back and jumping forward (or up! or laterally! OR WHATEVER) in/on/around this story's timeline!
Final note, but an important one, on Tav's identity: 
I tried to keep Tav ambiguous for the first few chapters because I know that sometimes a really detailed and specific-looking or backstoried Tav can make people disengage from the story because they don't relate to the identifying details provided. (also, it's me, I'm people, or at least one of the people lol)
But at the end of the day, as soon as I started even thinking about writing a BG3 fic, I started really digging into and developing this Tav, who does reflect the dialogue, action, and relationship choices I've made in my current playthrough of the game with her, yes. But in having spent / continuing to spend some time thinking and writing about who this Tav is.  I'm not going to lay them all out here, but I think when you want to play in a sandbox as fucking ginormous and intricately, infinitesimally detailed as Faerun / The Forgotten Realms / DnD,  a little story/character-relevant contextual frontloading can help readers have as much fun with it as the writer does. 
Also, and I'm just going to say it, Tav is a queer, first-generation Baldurian child of two immigrants. She's the Faerun / Baldur's Gate equivalent of a BIPOC, with parents who were born in places very different both from Baldur's Gate and each other's home cities / kingdoms. Also, she's mixed-heritage elf (sun, moon, sea -- yeah, I'm that guy, come at me bro loooool). All this context is key to who Tav is as a person, as a creator, as an adventurer, and just in general.
I want anyone to be able to read Tav and be able to understand who she is, if not be able to relate to some small part of her -- but in my mind, people like Tav are essential to the story of a place like Baldur's Gate, and I really enjoy exploring what that looks like.
I'm having fun with it, so I hope you will, too!
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do-it-for-the-fandom · 10 months
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🌀and ☔️ 😁
🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...
Her hands gripped the cold, percaline basin as she looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the precinct's bathroom, she looked like she had stepped out of a horror movie: the colour had drained from her face, the ghostly shade of white a stark contrast to the fatigue under her eyes and smudges of blood across her skin. Her blood or his: she wasn't quite sure.
When Detective Beckett's attacker escapes custody it becomes her mission to find him and bring him to justice - one way or another. Two months later, when her attacker is found murdered, she thinks that she can finally put this to rest but when she finds a handwritten note taking credit for the murder and claiming to have done it 'to protect her', she knows this is just the beginning. As more bodies begin to drop - each with their own connection to Detective Beckett - she struggles to keep herself together: both in her professional and personal life. Scared that those closest to her may be at risk, she begins to push everyone away.
Can she solve this one before it's too late?
☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?
So, a little while back I posted a short drabble: colour and light. And, well, that turned into something more and while I can picture it so clearly in my mind, I am struggling so much with actually writing it!
The concept: Castle does not survive the season 8 finale *cries*, but Kate does. The story is set about a year after that, a few months after Lily's birth.
Kate is struggling more than ever as the anniversary of Castle's death is approaching. Martha and Alexis are trying to gently encourage her to get out of the loft, get back to her life. They're worried, obviously, but Kate just isn't ready.
After a particularly rough night, she goes to Castle's laptop. She's not sure exactly what she is looking for... maybe old photos, maybe some Heat scenes that never made it into any of his books. She just wants something, anything to make her feel connected to him. After a few moments of exploration he finds a folder named 'Nikki Research'. She opens it and hundreds of video files appear on the screen.
She opens the first one - it's a video from years ago (the date on the screen tells her it's from when he first started shadowing her). The quality is horrible and his hand is shaky as he films, but she continues to watch. The video pans and suddenly she is on screen - young, short hair, furrowed brow. She remembers this: she was just trying to do paperwork and she was sure he was just trying to annoy her.
"You are about to be immortalised in print!" he exclaims proudly, earning him an exaggerated eye roll. "Don't you want it to be accurate?"
"I don't want to be immortalised, Castle, I want to do my paperwork in peace."
She opens the next video, and then another, and then another. With each video she can see the changes - the way she relaxes around him, the way she smiles more, is less frustrated by his 'research' tactics, the way the video become less about documenting her movements and expressions and more about capturing memories. Lanie, the boys, even Martha and Alexis make appearances in his 'research'. The videos span from 2009 to 2016 - the last being just a few weeks before the attack.
The jumping back and forth between present-time and the flashbacks of each video has made this sooooooo hard to write clearly! I'm still working on it, but there is a good chance I'll never feel confident enough in it to actually publish.
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nightingaleflow · 10 months
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how do your ocs make gaara laugh? would love examples 💕
Ask and ye shall receive, nonnie. <3
Sorry this took so long to get out (writing with an angry shoulder + a spicy brain is hard, who knew). But have some short and sweet scenes (600 - 900 words each) with Aki, Tori, Jun, and Holly.
Also, thank you for giving me an opportunity to write something with Jun! She's the only one I haven't written anything for yet, so it was nice to finally give her a voice. <3
*Be advised, Holly's is more adult in nature (not explicit but still sexually charged) and contains minor spoilers for Who You Are At Night. Proceed at your own risk.
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~Aki Kamiya~
People often wondered why Gaara insisted on having Aki present for council meetings, especially after they married. Most in Suna assumed that the Kazekage’s wife would have a more traditional role, maintaining the household and appearing at his side for public events. It was true that she was not a member of the council herself - only Gaara’s assistant - and in most matters that came up these days, they tended to have similar opinions. So it was technically unnecessary to have her there.
But what they didn’t know was the delight Gaara got to experience whenever she tore into one of the council members like a jackal. He always had to fold his hands in front of his mouth, carefully concealing his smile as the unfortunate Council member tried to make himself smaller in his chair.
Today, the recipient of Aki’s wrath was Shota, a council member who had started only two months ago. He’d come in guns blazing, with lots of ideas of how to reform the village. Gaara had had to remind him a few times about who the Kazekage was, but he still didn’t seem to get the message.
Gaara had a feeling he’d remember after today.
“I compiled this report for you a week ago, Shota, when you stressed to me how urgent it was. And you’re telling me you still haven’t looked at it?” Aki said, her voice icy cold despite the warmth from the desert sun streaming through the windows. “Tell me, do you think I do this job for fun? Do you think I spent a full day running around gathering this data because I have nothing better to do?” She slammed the documents in front of him. “You’ve got a lot of nerve wasting my time.”
Shota jumped back, trying to make himself as small as possible in his chair. “You should watch your tone,” he said, pointing a shaking finger at her. “I outrank you. So you do what I tell you to do.”
Aki’s expression darkened. A vein bulged in her forehead.
Several of the council members politely hid smiles of their own. Kankuro leaned over to Gaara. “I wish I had some popcorn.”
Gaara didn’t comment, but he agreed.
Aki hauled him out of his chair, the height difference between them so great that his feet dangled off the floor. “You’ve got a lot of nerve for someone whose last budget report hinged on each of our shinobi only receiving a salary of 100 ryo,” she growled.
Shota blanched. “That was a mistake-”
“Damn right it was,” Aki snarled. “A mistake that I caught. Just like I caught the missing food pills and the lack of signature on your inventory of our armory. And that’s not even getting into your rebuttal of our curriculum proposals for the Academy! Did you even go to the Academy? Because I find it hard to believe when you don’t even know what the current curriculum consists of!”
Shota stopped trying to respond. He just shook in her hands, waiting for it to be over.
“So the next time you think about spouting off bullshit about rank, maybe you should actually learn how to do your job so I don’t have to keep cleaning up your messes.”
She dropped him back in his seat, then briskly walked around the table until she once again sat at Gaara’s side.
Gaara cleared his throat. “We’ll table that report until the next meeting then,” he said, somehow keeping his voice steady. He gave Shota a critical look. “I’m certain you can get it done by then.”
Shota nervously looked between him and Aki. “Yes, Lord Kazekage.”
The meeting wrapped a few minutes later. Gaara led Aki back to his office, where he barely locked the door before his snickers began. “Meetings are always so much better when you’re in attendance,” he said.
Aki smirked. “Ah, I see. That’s why you have me attend those stupid meetings.” She playfully nudged his shoulder, which only made him laugh harder. “You want me to entertain you.”
“Yes, you got me,” Gaara said, his tone lighthearted.
Aki chuckled and leaned over. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said, her lips brushing his cheek.
Gaara glowed, his cheeks turning a light pink. “I really am.”
~
~Tori Kawasaki feat. Rock Lee~
Tori perked up as soon as the front door opened. She set her pen down on her desk, then hurried to the front entrance. Gaara had just hung up his cloak as Tori wrapped her arms around him. “Welcome home,” she murmured. “Lee is out training - he should be home soon.”
Gaara sank into her embrace. “Thank you, my love,” he said, his voice weary. “It’s good to be home.”
Tori tensed. “Are you all right?”
Gaara nodded. He kissed her forehead, then pushed past her to the living room couch. Tori followed, folding her arms. “Gaara.”
He looked up at her as she folded her legs next to him. “I know that look,” she said softly. “What happened?”
Gaara shook his head, hiding his expression from her. Tori simply leaned on him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “I understand if you don’t want to talk,” she said. “But I’m still here.” She gently kissed his temple. “I love you.
He sighed. “I love you too,” he said, sadness creeping into his voice. “That’s why today was so frustrating.”
Tori raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.
“The meeting ran twice as long as was necessary,” he replied. “Shota was determined to reject the proposal to have the students be tested for their chakra affinities upon entering the Academy, and stalled out the meeting as long as possible hoping the measure would fail.”
Tori tutted. “His efforts were in vain, In hope?”
“He did,” Gaara said. “But because of it, I wasn’t able to get to the biggest topic I wanted to discuss today.” He grew quiet. “The topic of our marriage.”
Tori sucked in a breath.
“I’m ready to present the union to the Council,” Gaara said. “But because of the delay, it will have to wait until Monday when the Council reconvenes.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I know that you and Lee have been waiting for this…”
Tori just smiled. “And if we have to wait a little longer, that’s fine. I promised you that I was yours forever, Gaara, marriage or no marriage, and I don’t go back on my promises. Neither does Lee.” She nuzzled into his neck. “Did you really think a weekend delay would chase us off so easily?”
Gaara smiled weakly. “No, I suppose not.”
Tori looked up with an exaggerated pout. “What’s this ‘I suppose’ about?” she asked, making her eyes as big as possible.
Finally, Gaara chuckled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I should have known better.”
“Damn right,” Tori said, grinning.
She pulled Gaara closer as she covered his face and neck with kisses. He laughed, leaning back and happily accepting her eager affection. She giggled in return, his laughter music to her ears. “Feeling better now?” she asked, her lips brushing his ear.
“A little,” Gaara said, smiling up at her. “But I’m not sure I’m quite back to normal yet.”
Just then, the front door opened, and Lee called, “I’m home!”
Tori’s smirk was devious. “Lee, come in here!”
Lee stuck his head in, his eyes widening a little when he saw them.
“Gaara’s feeling rather down. He needs some love to help him feel better,” Tori said.
“Ah, of course!” Lee said. “I am happy to help!”
He sat down on Gaara’s other side, wrapping his arms around Gaara. Then he and Tori smothered Gaara with kisses, covering every inch of his face and neck until Gaara was crying from laughter. When they finally let him up for air, he leaned back against the sofa, his heart full. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breathy.
Tori chuckled and gave him one final kiss. “Anytime,” she murmured.
~
~Jun~
Suna had transformed almost overnight. Strings of lights shimmered over every building, bathing the sandy ground in warm light even after the sun went down. Vendors selling everything from yakitori to glass ornaments lined the streets, inviting anyone who passed to come closer. Festival goers were dressed in colorful robes, smiling and laughing.
It warmed Gaara’s heart to see his home come alive like this. But what made this festival even more special was seeing Jun experience it for the first time.
She too was dressed in festival attire, black robes with the same gold threads that Gaara had in his red ones. Her wide eyes darted in every direction, her auburn hair flying around her head. She clung tightly to his arm, and he could feel her vibrating with excitement.
“This is incredible,” she said, her voice quieter than it had ever been. “I had no idea something like this was even possible.”
“Takigakure didn’t host festivals like this, then?”
Jun shook her head. “Small ceremonies for the chief, a fishing festival in the spring, a harvest festival in the fall, and a celebration of the new year. But there’s nothing on this scale.”
“We hold several festivals like this every year,” Gaara said. “So you’ll only have to wait about a month and a half for the next.”
Jun’s face lit up. “Well, no time like the present!” She tugged on his arm. “Show me everything!”
Gaara did just that, showing her every aspect of the festival. She bought a glass pendant from a vendor, and he bought them stuffed vine leaves to eat. They said hello to Gaara’s siblings near the stage where the junior members of the puppet corps were performing, and Gaara noticed they seemed unnaturally happy to see Jun on his arm. They also said hello to several villagers, all of whom seemed to have a similar reaction.
Their last stop was the place Gaara always avoided come festival time: the dance. He had hoped to just quickly show her and leave, but Jun tugged on his arm to stop him. “Want to dance?” she asked.
Gaara winced. He had never learned to dance. It had seemed unnecessary in his youth, not that anyone had been willing to teach him. Now, it was just something he avoided so he didn’t make a fool of himself.
But she sounded so hopeful. Her dark eyes pleaded with him to say yes. If he said no, it would devastate her. But if he said yes, he would make a fool of himself and disappoint her anyway.
Jun tilted her head as Gaara mulled over what to do. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Gaara said quickly. “I just…”
He hesitated, but Jun caught on immediately. “You don’t know how to dance?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Jun just smiled. “That’s fine,” she said, extending a hand. “I can teach you if you like.”
“That’s very kind, but you don’t have to do that.”
“I’d like to, though, if you’ll let me.”
Gaara blinked. A flicker of nerves still burned within him, but she was so sincere in asking…
“All right.” He inclined his head. “But not here.”
“Fine with me,” Jun said. “Lead the way.”
~
Jun was a surprisingly good teacher. She worked with Gaara for an hour, quickly teaching him the basic steps for one of Takigakure’s dances. Gaara absorbed everything she said, copying her movements with ease. Once they worked through the entire dance, she had him go through it twice at half-speed, only having to correct him three times on the first pass. By the second, he had it down, and was even smiling as the dance came to an end.
Jun beamed at him. “Ready for full speed?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Gaara said, taking her hand as the music from below started anew.
He stumbled through his first few steps, but Jun pulled him right back in, refusing to let him apologize. He continued to follow her for the first minute, watching for her cues to kick and dip. But as he gained more confidence in his footing, he took over, leading her into a spin with ease. She laughed as she twirled, as free as a bird in flight, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her as he pulled her back into him.
Then, just as he pulled her back up from a dip, the music ended. They lingered there, Jun panting and flushed as he held her close.
“See?” she said. “I knew you could do it!”
He glowed at her compliment, feeling warmer than if the sun were still out. “It’s only because I have such an excellent teacher.”
Jun giggled. “You’re definitely my best student.”
Gaara raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “Aren’t I your only student?”
“Yes, but that still means you’re the best.”
Gaara laughed at that. Then Jun gestured toward the dance floor below. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yes, as long as you’re with me.”
Jun grinned, then stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
~
~Holly Reed~
Holly relaxed on her towel. The sun beamed down, warming her tanned skin and darkening her glasses. The ocean breeze rolled in with the waves, making her hair flutter. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, smelling the salty air.
It felt like she was home.
She stretched out, brushing off errant grains of sand from her calf. But as she did so, she heard a soft sigh from next to her. She cracked open an eye to see Gaara watching her from his own towel, his cheeks a light pink. She stretched a little more deliberately, her black two-piece helping her emphasize her chest and waist, and the pink on Gaara’s face darkened.
“See something you like?” she teased.
Gaara started, then looked away. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to stare.”
Holly snickered, then rested a hand on his thigh. “Yes, you did,” she said, idly tracing circles on his skin. “Don’t lie to me.”
“...All right, yes, I did.”
“Gaara, you don’t have to apologize,” Holly said. “You should know by now it’s okay to look.”
Gaara nodded, but he still didn’t look up, his dark eyes closed.
Holly sighed. She lifted her hand, tracing the shape of a small wave in the air. Golden particles painted the air wherever her finger moved. Once she completed the drawing, the golden particles darkened and warped, taking the form of actual water. Gaara yelped as it splashed him, shaking out his darkened hair. “What was that for?”
“I had to make you look at me somehow,” Holly said, hiding a snicker behind her hand.
Gaara’s eyes narrowed, but the small smirk ruined any threat he was trying to display. “Fine, you have my attention now.” He leaned over, pressing Holly into her towel, his face hovering a few inches above her. “Now, what should I do as retribution?”
Holly gave him a half-lidded smile. “I don’t think I’ve done anything that requires retribution.”
His lips brushed against her ear. “I respectfully disagree.”
She let out a low chuckle. Then she tapped his shoulder. Gaara lifted his head, and she smiled coyly at him before pointing up. He followed her gaze, only to see a wall of water floating right above him.
Gaara’s eyes widened, but he didn’t have time to react further. He gasped as the icy water crashed down, goosebumps cascading across his skin. When the deluge ceased, he looked down, water dripping from his nose. Holly had made herself small, using him as a shield, so she was still mostly dry.
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Then Holly giggled, pressing her hand against her mouth. Gaara tried to stop himself, but her laugh was infectious, and he let out a chuckle of his own. This only made Holly laugh harder, tears of mirth stinging her eyes as she teasingly prodded the tip of his nose. “Okay, now I have.”
Gaara laughed with her. “So you admit it.”
Holly grinned. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”
“Well,” Gaara replied. “Since you got me wet…” His hand brushed up her thigh. “I think I should return the favor.”
Holly raised an eyebrow. “How is that a punishment?”
Gaara kissed her forehead, then said, “Like this.”
He rolled off Holly as his sand yanked her off the ground. She let out a startled yelp as she was flung into the sea, creating an enormous splash. Gaara folded his arms with a smirk as she resurfaced, giving him a death glare that would have made a lesser man shiver. “I’m gonna get you back for that!” she called.
He lay back on his towel. “I look forward to it.”
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landwriter · 1 year
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questions for the fanfiction writing asks! 1, 3, 5, 10, 11, 12, 22, 35, 36, 72, 73, 74. (… feel free to only do some if this is too many.)
hahaha i saw '1, 3,' in the preview and thought 'oh I hope there's three questions!' roll you've got mail gif of tom hanks rubbing his hands together and blowing on his fingers:
Gloam's Great Big Writing (W)ramble
Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike? I go for it straightaway. When I get an idea and can't exorcise it due to things like Operating A Motor Vehicle it literally just churns inside of me until I can. I wrote 80% of Black Shore as jot notes in a parking lot while eating a burger with one hand. My ideas are less patient than me. which ha ha truly says a lot.
Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself? Oh, share for sure. If I ever manage to conceive, draft, and publish a whole entire story without telling anyone about it I want a PRIZE.
How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for? I was like "two! wait three - no, four" anyways I went and looked in my one (1) fic drafting document (clocking in at a healthy 90K lol) and counting everything I've put words down for and intend to put MORE words down for it would be, uh, haha fifteen
Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time? I try to only focus on one but right now I have an overgrown drabble and a chapter for Oaths that I both equally want to have been done YESTERDAY so I have been bouncing between them both for a few days. I do think I could really dig doing drabbles THAT BEHAVED THEMSELVES in between longfic chapters though!
Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around? In order, but I have no qualms putting [thing happens] and moving on because I already have to consciously try so hard to keep momentum and not constantly faff about with wording as I go. I have slipped up with Oaths a couple times now because there's just SO MUCH to write for it lol
Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them? I was labouring for a while under the delusion I was 'outlining' but I have since realized I am actually just writing fics as fast as possible in a very loose way first before I forget anything, because apparently most outlines do not have, uh enormous chunks of fully-written dialogue, play-by-play actions, and detailed descriptions of scenes and character beats? the only time I do not do this has been prompt fills but it actively makes my brain ache a little to try and remember everything inside my head while my fingers slowly write it in full lol
Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles? Titles for canon fics have all come part way through. They just Show Up, and I know it's right when it Feels Right? I like punchy short titles that are outright utilitarian OR that you read after reading the fic and go 'HEY' because it was The Theme All Along. For AUs I am clinically incapable of thinking of them as anything other than 'Descriptor AU' which is why it took me over a week after posting it and two chapters in to title my Tam Lin AU
What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted? I am a terrible parent because I was going to say 'I could make a case for any of them' but it's actually any of them except Emissary of the Night. I wish I could even say I feel guilty haha. Nothing against it at all! I'm happy with it and proud of the response it's gotten, I'm just not attached.
What fic are you proudest of? Border Country. No matter what else I write, it will always be Border Country. If I publish a real life novel and it wins awards it will actually, still, be Border Country. And it will be Border Country because that was second story I wrote. Doing something previously unthinkable once is pretty wild. But I have been known to do wild shit! Doing it a second time, consciously, right after the first one went so well that a part of you is saying very persuasive unhinged things like: stop while you're ahead, lightning only strikes once, it likely won't be as good or as well-received and you won't be able to cope with that, better to not find out, don't make people have to humour you, Gloam, that's rude, be satisfied with this alone, was the actual wildest thing I've done. I started writing a second story immediately after Saint Morpheus because the response was overwhelming and incredible, and I knew if I didn't post something again within a week or two that would be the only thing I ever posted, probably. So I wrote Border Country in five days, posted it, felt like I'd defeated a curse, and I am so proud of me for it.
What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten? Black Shore getting printed, annotated, filled with marginalia and brilliant analysis, and being written an entire formatted essay in the comments about it. I wept! I literally wept and phoned my best friend about it. Literary analysis is a love language and getting that comment forced me to briefly realize that I am for the first time ever existing on the other side of the medium of written word that I have loved my whole entire life. surreal!! incredible!!
What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing? unsure! but I like it the most when people Have Strong Feelings @ me, quote lots of bits and pieces, or make any comment on Themes (see above lmao)
Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love? Oaths haha - if you would like my silly rant on Why You Should Check It Out it's here :)
[fanfic writing asks]
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lemonjoonah · 3 years
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The Garden Thief (M)
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  
Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.
A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!
...
“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—
You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”
The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.
You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.
The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.
“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  
“No, he’s at work.”
“When will he be back?”
“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”
Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.
“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”
The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”
“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.
“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”
“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.
The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.
“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”
“A stake out?”
“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”
You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”
“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”
“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.
Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.
It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.
The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.
And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.
Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.
After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.
Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’
‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’
You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.
‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’
You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.
He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”
“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”
“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”
“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”
“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”
Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.
“What?”
“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”
“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  
Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”
You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”
“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”
You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”
“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”
“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”
“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”
“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.
Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.
With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  
“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”
His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”
“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”
“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.
“You want to help?”
“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”
“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”
“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”
“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”
“Yes but-”  
“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”
“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.
The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.
“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...
“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”
“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”
“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”
...
You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.
The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.
After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’
“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”
“Caffeine and water?”
You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”
He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”
“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”
“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”
You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”
“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”
“Antagonizing!”
“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”
You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.
“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”
You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”
“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.
“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”
Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.
You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.
“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”
“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      
His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.
Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”
“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.
You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”
“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”
The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”
“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.
“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.
Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”
“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”
“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  
“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”
Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.
Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”
Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”
You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”
“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”
“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”
“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”
“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”
“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.
“I suppose not.”
“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”
“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”
“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.
“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”
“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”
“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.
While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.
Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”
“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”
“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.
“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”
“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”
“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”
“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.
“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”
“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”
“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”
He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”
You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.
“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.
“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”
You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”
“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”
“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”
“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”
“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”
“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”
“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”
...
You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.
“Sorry for leaving you.”
“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.
“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”
“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”
“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”
“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”
“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”
“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”
Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.
While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.
“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”
“He did?”
You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”
“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”
“If that’s what you want to do.”
“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  
“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”
Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”
...
When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.
Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  
Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.
“Hungry?”
He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.
“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.
...
You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.
After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.
Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.
“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”
“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”
“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”
“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.
It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.
But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.
He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.
As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.
“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.
You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”
“Notice what?”
“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”
“It’s not your fault.”
You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”
“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  
“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”
“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”
You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”
“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.
“Then do it.” You demand of him.
He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”
“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  
His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.
He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.
Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.
Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.
A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.
He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.
“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”
“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”
You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.
You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.
“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”
“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  
His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.
You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.
His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.
After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”
You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”
“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  
You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”
...
You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.
On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.
The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  
Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.
A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.
“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”
“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.
“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”
Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”
...
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serendipitous-magic · 3 years
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What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?
If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.
-_-_-_-
1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.
_-_
2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.
Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.
_-_
3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.
However, here are the rules you must follow:
-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.
-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.
-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)
-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.
... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.
That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...
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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.
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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.
Here’s how I cheat that:
Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.
Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.
Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.
Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.
And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.
You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...
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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.
“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”
You won’t.
Write it down.
Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.
And then, once you have it written down somewhere...
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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.
Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.
Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.
(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)
_-_
8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.
_-_
9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.
But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.
Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”
Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.
Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”
This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.
If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.
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10) You don’t have to write in order.
Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.
But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.
Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.
_-_
11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.
If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.
If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.
When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.
This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 
_-_
12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.
Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.
Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.
Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.
Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.
They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.
Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.
Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.
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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.
_-_
14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.
_-_
15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.
_-_
16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.
I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”
And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.
Here are the things you must know about your character:
a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?
And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.
b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?
Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 
It also informs character behavior and personality. 
Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.
Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.
These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.
Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.
In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.
Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.
Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.
-_-_-
I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.
Best of luck!
Edit: I forgot an important one:
17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.
What do I mean by that?
If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”
Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.
Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.
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Text
Surprise, surprise.
Author's note: This is my first ever written one shot. The inspiration popped into my head during my shower. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy
Fluffy one shot.
Part 1.
// Introduction //
A little info about Y/N and Vinnie.
So, you guys met during the first Covid lockdown.
You weren’t really seeing anyone of your friends during this time because you didn’t feel like taking any risks. So the only way for you to interact with anyone, was via social media. Before lockdown you also kind of give up on the idea of finding a lover because the last time you gave it a shot it didn’t work out.
You remember one of your best friends told you ‘’ Once you start focusing on yourself, it’ll come to you. ‘’ Well, what better way to focus on yourself other than during quarantine?
That’s when Vinnie came into the picture.
After many failed attempts of having a normal conversation with serval people, the last thing Vinnie expected was to meet someone like you. A lot of the time people tried to take advantage of the fact that he was famous. They would post his personal info on social media and share their conversations for clout. Just like you, Vinnie was kind of over the idea of meeting someone who would like him for his personality instead of his name.
You guys instantly clicked. It felt like talking to someone you’ve known your entire life. There wasn’t a thing you couldn’t share with another. But because the two of you lived in different time zones you couldn’t talk as much as you’d like, but you made it manageable. There was only one problem; traveling was not an option due to Covid, so the two of you had never seen each other in real life.
Until now…
// End of introduction //
Alex (Warren) set up his camera to make a video.
He clicked on record and looked into the camera.
‘’ So as you guys know, Vinnie and Y/N met online in the beginning of Covid, but they’ve never officially seen each other in real life. Now that traveling is allowed again and Vinnie hasn’t been feeling himself lately, I thought it was a good idea to surprise him. I bought y/n a plan ticket so she can come over and hopefully cheer Vinnie up. And I will document the entire journey. ‘’
// Vinnie’s POV //
It’s noon. I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through TikTok. I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. Normally she would call me before going to bed herself, but she never did. I tried texting her but no reply.
Y/NNNN????
Yo bro, you there???
I miss your voiceeee
Please don’t be asleep already 
Pick up!!!!!! Or else I’m coming for you.
God, I wish I could just fly to wherever she was at and kiss her entire face. Because, yes, I am indeed in love with her, and she feels the same way about me. I just never thought I could recognize so much of myself in someone else. She’s the most kind, beautiful and loving person I know, and I can’t wait to hold her in my arms one day and never let go.
I’m starting to daydream about a life with y/n without the long distance, because it truly sucks. Then I hear a knock on the door and before I know it Alex comes rushing in with his camera in his hand.
( Vinnie & Alex )
‘’ Vinnie, say hello to everyone! ‘’
‘’ Hello everyone. Alex what do you want? ‘’
‘’ Why are you assuming I want something from you? ‘’
‘’ Because you only enter my room if you either have one of your crazy ideas to share or if you want me to get involved in something I probably shouldn’t get involved into. ‘’
‘’ Pfft, not true. My ideas aren’t crazy, they’re brilliant in their own way. ‘’
Alex grins at me. Suspiciously.
‘’ Anyways that’s not the point Vincent, I actually came in to see if you would join me to get some groceries because the only thing left are rise waffles and I’m starving. ‘’
Alex is blinking his eyes with the same grin he has had on from the moment he came into my room.
He’s not going to leave until I agree on coming. So before I know it, we’re on our way to the grocery store.
// Y/N’s POV //
I received a text from Alex a few weeks ago. He told me about his idea to surprise Vinnie. I couldn’t be more excited. Ever since Vinnie and I started talking I have pushed many of my personal boundaries. In a positive way. Vinnie has helped me regain trust in others and has showed me that love is real. I have lost my faith in love due to my previous experiences. That’s why the connection that I have with Vinnie is so important to me.
I have arrived at the airport as I turn on my phone. My phone starts to receive all the missed text messages and calls from Vinnie. I smile as I read through them.
‘’ Oh Vin, if only you knew ‘’ I think to myself.
I hear someone yelling my name behind me. As I turn around, I see Nailea running towards me.
Nailea is a close friend of Vinnie so of course she was the first to know about Vinnie’s contact with me. She’s been super kind to me, and I consider her as the sister I never had.
Nailea hugs me once she has approached me.
( Y/N & Nailea )
‘’ OH MY GOD. Girl, I am so happy that you’re finally hereeeee!!! ’’
I laugh as I see people around looking at us.
‘’ I am also very happy to be here. To finally meet everyone. For real. ‘’
‘’ Yea, now tell me, does my nose look bigger on the screen than in real life? ‘’
‘’ Hahaha, no Nai. You look fantastic on the screen and even better in real life. ‘’
Nailea and I take my stuff and walk out of the airport.
Once settled in the car, I receive a text from Alex:
We’re almost at the store. He hasn’t got a clue. See you there.
This is all a part of Alex his big plan. First, I will act like a regular costumer shopping at the same store as Vinnie and Alex. Then once they get back, Alex will distract Vinnie just a little longer, so he won’t notice me walking past the car right away. Brilliant.
// Vinnie’s POV //
Alex and I walk into the store.
‘’ Alright, what do we need? ‘’
‘’ Anything but rise waffles. ‘’
I shake my head, laughing, as I walk to the lemonade aisle.
Alex is taking out his camera and starts filming me from a far.
I start singing Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as I act like I'm hiding from him.
‘’ Oh, you should also take a few cans of coke. ‘’ Alex suggests.
As I walk towards the aisle with cans of lemonade, I notice a girl standing in front of it. Her hair instantly reminds me of Y/N. The exact same length, color and texture. Call me a simp, but I just pay a lot of attention to the girl I love. I slowly approach the girl before Alex attacks be by throwing a teddy bear on my head.
‘’ Hey, watch it! ‘’ I fix my hair.
‘’ Sorry man, I just know how much you like teddy bears. ‘’ Alex’s laughing out loud as he zooms in to my face.
I laugh, as I start to think back to the day Alex thought it would be funny to buy a giant teddy bear and have Patrick in it to scare me.
Just then, I notice the girl was gone. I didn’t see her anywhere else again.
After collecting all the stuff, we needed, we went home.
Once we arrived home, Alex stopped me before I opened my car door.
‘’ Let’s just sit here for a bit and talk about some stuff. ‘’ I stare at Alex with a confused look on my face.
‘’ Yea, because the viewers want to know, how are things going between you and Y/N? ‘’
I scratch the back of my neck and start feeling the heat take over my cheeks.
‘’ I mean, it’s hard sometimes. She’s one of the most important people in my life, yet I haven’t even met her in person. But I just know that once I do, that everything will naturally fall into it’s place. ‘’
Alex pouts as he listens to all the sweet things I have to say.
‘’ You really like her, don’t you? ‘’
‘’ I mean, yea I do. I really do. ‘’
‘’ Alright, so imagine her standing in front of you right now, what would you do? ‘’
I look at my hands as I start to imagine a situation like that.
‘’ Uh… If she was standing in front of me right now.. I would.. ‘’ My eyes scan a figure walking past the car and I couldn’t believe my eyes.
// Y/N’s POV //
Shit, I almost got caught. The plan was to go into the store, just to admire Vinnie from a far. I didn’t plan to stand in the exact aisle, where he needed to get something from. Luckily, Alex had a plan to distract Vinnie while I fled to the exit. Phew, that was close.
Alex texted me, saying they were on their way home. That’s when it hit me, I am going to be able to see, touch and kiss Vinnie for the first time ever. Nailea noticed my anxiety kicking in and she told me everything would be just fine.
It didn’t take long before Alex’s car pulled up on the driveway. Alex and Vinnie stayed in the car for a bit. My phone started buzzing as I read the notification: ‘’ Now!’’ That was my cue.
As nervous as one can be, I walked past the car with the person who’s the other half of my heart in it. I didn’t dare to look in his direction.
// Vinnie’s POV //
I couldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real right? Was I dreaming? I mean, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because I was worried sick due to Y/N not responding to me anymore.
I rub my eyes as I watch in the direction of the person again and there’s no way it couldn’t be her.
Then she turns her face into my direction and my heart starts pounding. There she is, the love of my life, the only person who can make my day just by popping up in my notifications, Y/N.
As I try to open my door, I hear Alex locking it.
‘’ Let me out! ‘’ I look at Alex as I try to unlock the door, but unable because he keeps his hand infront of the lock.
‘’ You haven’t answered my question yet. ‘’ Alex smirks at me, but I do not find it funny at all.
‘’ Please, let me out and I’ll show you what I would do if she were to stand in front of me ‘’
And with, I heard the door unlock. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could to the person who I longed for the most.
Click here for part two;
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tokisguitarpick · 3 years
Text
drunken skunk
Characters: Toki Wartooth x Reader
Words: 2500+ holy FUCK 
A/N: hey i written in uhh 1000 years and i just binged metalocolypse on hbomax which apparently unlocked something in me. this fic takes place immediately following fertilityklok because I’ve had a weird amount of experience talking to men who want but for some reason can’t/don’t have children and watching Toki worry about it gave me feelings i just wanted someone to kiss him and tell him he was okay:( so he turned down the woman in the ep, went home and fucked, wakes up and doesn’t actually feel that much better so drinking, smoking, not being understood by his bandmates, leads to going somewhere else to drink, and that’s where we are. i also like the idea that the band members have slutted around so often that even blitz drunk, they’d still be quick and nimble in the sack 
“Y/N, can you come to my office, please?” Charles’s voice came through your cell phone.
You had the phone pressed to your cheek, despite the spikes digging into your shoulder, as you pulled on a pair of socks. When you saw Charles calling you, it was almost always to request you come to his office for a task so it was second nature to get dressed when his name popped up. “Of course, sir.” His thanks were short before the line clicked off and you were left alone to finish getting ready.
_________
Scooting past a masked employees leaving Charles’s office, you stood in front of your boss and nodded when he met your eye over the documents on his desk. “Y/N, thank you for coming. We’ve got a small situation I’m hoping we can keep small.” Your brow furrowed as he picked up his phone and start swiping through it.
“What’s the matter, sir?” you asked.
Charles held up a finger, continuing to swipe until he finally clicked a button and a whaling voice suddenly filled the room.
“Whys is this happening to mes, iS AMS I UGLIES?! Ams I- Ma’am, MA’AMS, AMS I UGLI-“
The silence that followed Charles pausing the recording was deafening. “Um, was that-“
“Toki, yes,” Charles cut you off. “He’s currently at the Drunken Skunk and is living up to the name. I need you to go collect him as discreetly as possible.” As though that was all the information you needed, Charles began looking over the paperwork in front of him again.
You sighed quietly, you hated how little you got told about your tasks since they always spiraled into some kind of crazy mess when the members of Dethklok were involved, but Charles wasn’t one to question. “Yes, sir. Consider it done.”
You turned on your heel and began to head out but when your hand touched the doorknob, Charles spoke again. “Oh, and Y/N? Be careful. Toki has been sensitive since his birthday. Tread carefully.”
Brow furrowed again, you glanced back but Charles was already looking away, eyes on his documents. You wondered what he meant but as always, better not to question him. Stepping into the hallway, you let his office door swing shut behind you as you headed into the night.
___________
The Drunken Skunk was a dingy little bar on the edge of downtown whose usual crowd were streetwalkers and weary men, so it wasn’t crazy that Toki had decided to come here but as you drove closer and closer, you were surprised how dingy it in fact was. It was cheek to cheek with the industrial district, had an empty printing shop on one side, and a storefront covered in plywood on the other. You parked in front of the boarded-up shop and did a quick check on all sides for sketchy characters before you stepped out of the car.
The bar was choked with cigarette smoke, and the stench of stale alcohol and vomit. You frowned, standing in the door while you scanned the dirty room until your eyes fell on a heaving form slumped across the bar. Toki.
His long hair was draped over his shoulders and hung down his back, quivering slightly with each heave. It seemed like he was crying, his head buried in his arms. “AMS I UGLIES?” rang in your ears again and your frown softened. You weren’t sure what had happened, but you had noticed he’d been… off since his birthday.
You had thought it was related to the fake kidnapping that kicked off the party- a horrific and idiotic idea you had spoken out against and were immediately told by Nathan not to be a bitch about- but even that wouldn’t lead to the question of if he was ugly. Would it? The Dethklok members were strange. Five lives full of tragedy and unprocessed trauma all packed into the most popular band in the world made for an uneasy balance in the workplace and living quarters. You were skilled at navigating it when you had to clear up the messes, but you were hardly ever around for the inciting event so it was always tricky to understand how it all connected. 
You approached cautiously and made sure to make a little noise so you wouldn’t spook him. If he heard you, he showed no reaction, so you perched on the bar stool beside him. “Hey, Toki?”
The guitarist lifted his head finally and his red rimmed eyes were bleary when they met yours. “Y/N? Whats is *hic* you doings heres?” His voice was hoarse and thick with tears, a few of which were clinging to his eyelashes and glittered in the dim light. It made his grey-blue eyes shine and your breath caught in your throat. You had to admit, Toki was your favorite member of the band and it had little to do with his musical talent. You weren’t one for metal much anyway.
What drew you to Toki was first his appearance. Back when you were just applying for a position at the record company behind Dethklok, he’d caught your eye on the poster in the lobby. Long hair on men was something of a turn-on and his piercing gaze struck a chord inside you. His angular face and extremely fit build made him one of the hottest members in your opinion but on top of all of that, he was a sweetheart. That wasn’t written on the poster, of course, it was something you’d discovered about a week after you started when he was the only person besides Charles to take the time to learn your name and point your in the right direction. You wouldn’t say you were close but you had a causal friendship, just right for making light conversation during elevator rides and not much else.
“I’m here for you, Toki,” you replied, trying to master a tone that was both soft and cheery. “I came to take you home.”
“Takes me… No! I wants to stay heres. I-I-” His bottom lip started to quiver as he spoke but you put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, hey, relax, Toki. It’s just late and I think it’d be good for us to get you into bed,” you gave him a small smile, trying to coax his drunken mind into listening to you. He might be slim but if he tried to fight you on leaving, you’d have your hands full. Maybe you should’ve asked for an escort…
Toki slumped on the bar again with a huff before sliding off his stool towards you, prompting you to hop up quickly to catch him as he stumbled to his feet. He was heavy with alcohol and leaning on you to keep steady, so trudging to the door became a task. Despite having at least half a foot on you, his face was nestling further and further in your hair until you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.
You could feel your cheeks warming but it wasn’t until you got out the door, opened the back of the car, and loaded Toki halfway in that you really had a reason to blush.
“Y/N, ams I uglies?” Toki asked suddenly, looking up at you from under his lashes. He only had his butt on the edge of the car’s bench seat, looking at you with his face inches from yours, and fresh tears welling in his eyes.
Your eyes widened and your blush raged in full. Working around the object of your affection, even when that work was dragging him out of a shitty bar, was easy enough. Being asked directly about it by him was a whole other thing. Swallowing against the sudden knot in your throat, you decided to be honest and lightly shook your head. “No, Toki, not at-“
Anything and everything else you might be about to say was thrown out the window because the moment you said no, Toki launched forward. One hand on your hip, he lifted the other to your shoulder and pulled you to him lightening fast, his mouth finding yours with a squish. In his drunken state, he was a little sloppy at first but his skill began to show itself. His tongue traced the dip between your lips as he pulled you against his chest, your head fogging when he nipped your bottom lip. It was finally enough to coax your mouth open and Toki took full advantage of that fact, squeezing your hip as his other hand, warm and calloused, slipped around your neck and held you to him. Electricity jumped through you when his tongue met yours, twirling together for a moment before he moved on to exploring your mouth with a greedy moan.
“Wa-wait,” you mumbled around his lips. This was moving too fast, or maybe the fact it was happening at all was what was making you feel overwhelmed in the moment. It took everything in you to pull away, a solid percentage of your mind screaming at you to continue, to let Toki think he had control of the situation and see how far you could get with him. But you couldn’t. He was drunk and clearly something was bothering him enough to drink in the first place. You needed to just get him home. Plus if you did anything with Toki, you’d like for him to remember it, too. “Toki, wait.”
Your eyes met his just in time to watch his face crumple. The only way to describe his expression was pure heartbreak. The disappearance of his hands on your body made you miss the weight of them instantly but you hardly noticed, watching him melt right in front of you.
“I ams uglies, I knews it! I knews it!” Desperate and broken, his voice turned your stomach. His shaky hands found his hair and he began tugging on the ends, seemingly unaware of the motion. “No ones will loves me, I’ms hideous, I wills never find love! I wills never finds the mother ofs my childrens!”
While you had been paralyzed with bewilderment, his last sentence only compounded your confusion but brought you back into the moment enough to move again. Toki had cringed away from you, burying his face in the back of the passenger seat while still tugging on his hair, and you hurriedly heaved his long legs into the footwell before shutting the door and jogging around to the other side.
Even sealed in the car, you could hear his drunken crying. It twisted your heart but still, the mother of his children? Is that what he thought of you? Your blush burned your cheeks once more but you shook the thought off. He must’ve been crying about this when he left that voicemail for Charles. But what had happened?
Opening the back door on the other side, you slipped inside and snapped the door closed behind you. Toki seemed worse than before, now holding his face in his hands and heaving with small sobs. “Whats is it, Y/N? Whats makes me so uglies? I can change! I has monies, I can change!”
You furrowed your brows and put a hand on his arm, scooting closer to him. “Toki, you’re not ugly.” Quicker than you expected, his head snapped towards you.
“Then whys do you not likes to kiss me?” His lip started to quiver and you expected another outburst but his eyes stayed locked on you, expecting an answer.
Your mouth was dry and you scrambled for an answer that would keep him from crying again. How had you ended up here? Eyes darting around the car, you quickly mumbled, “I do, I liked the kiss! I jus-“
Once again, the Dethklok guitarist moved faster than you thought in his state. His hands found your face and pulled you up to him, putting you nose to nose with the lanky musician. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red from tears but it only exacerbated how bright his stormy irises were. You felt nervous and excited and tingly all over from being held so close and you hardly dared to breathe. Hypnotized by his gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. “Thens kiss me,” he murmured in a throaty voice. It made you shiver and lust began to haze your thoughts, the previous kiss still so fresh in your mind when his lips found yours again.
Slowly this time- painfully, delightfully slowly- Toki kissed you. His hands nearly covered the sides of your head as he held you in place, his lips closed while he kissed you once, twice, three times before deepening it. You let him without hesitation, heat coiling in your stomach. Of course, the thought of breaking the kiss occurred to you but with every motion of his, that thought got further and further away. Toki’s tongue slipped past your lips again and he gently stroked over yours as he made his way around your mouth. You returned the kiss with fervor, trying to match his speed to keep him close as long as possible.
One hand on top of his over your cheek, you let your other wander. His knee pressing into your thigh, then up the outside of his leg to rest on his hip and give it a squeeze. He moaned in your mouth and your body responded in kind, your own moan escaping as the heat in your belly moved south. When his free hand fisted in your hair and tugged, you wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Toki didn’t remember your hookup. Hell, maybe it would keep things from getting awkward at work?
Skwisgaar’s best guitar solo blared through the vehicle, interrupting your mental plan to get the man in front of you undressed. It was your phone, ringing out from your back pocket, and you knew without looking that it was Charles. He tended to check status on the jobs he gave people, especially when they went alone, as the Dethklok members seemed to have a way of making mountains out of molehills and then exploding the mountain into a bunch of fiery chunks raining from the sky.
Toki hadn’t stopped kissing you. If anything, he seemed more desperate, his hands falling to your shoulders and tugging at your shirt. But you straightened up and caught his large wrists to still him. Pulling away, your lips tingled and you had to blink a few times to gather yourself. “I have to get that, hang on.” Your voice was hoarse and you cleared it twice as you pulled the phone from your pocket and selected ‘Answer’. Toki huffed but he seemed much more relaxed compared to the last interruption, leaning back against the seat and putting his large hand on your thigh with his eyes closed.
“Hello?” you asked, still trying to steady your voice.
“Y/N, any updates?” Charles bluntly asked back.
You cleared your throat again and replied, “Everything’s going well, I just got Toki in the car,” the guitarist squeezed your leg at the sound of his name, “and we’re about to head back home.” The thought of leaving the back seat, of having to drive with the fruity taste of whatever he’d been drinking still on your tongue and the memory of his hands on you front and center in your mind, nearly made you groan aloud but you held yourself back.
“Good, good. Knew you could handle it.” *click*
Just like that, Charles had broken the heady mood and hung up in under a minute. You sighed, knowing what the right thing to do was and knowing exactly what you wanted to do instead. As if reading your thoughts, Toki spoke, “Wes don’t has to leaves yet, does we?”
“We does,” you replied playfully, trying to convince yourself of that fact. It wasn’t often that you wished for another job, one where you could be a groupie, act a little slutty, and turn one of your daydreams into a reality. But this was one of those times. However, people got fired- or killed- at work for less and you wouldn’t have even gotten into Dethklok if it weren’t for your job.
Toki sighed, squeezing your thigh again and holding it for a moment. Glancing at him, you’re eyes scanned his face thoroughly. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back on the headrest, giving you an eyeful of his neck and throat. He had the slightest stubble growing and as you watched, he gulped, making his Adam’s apple bounce. You wanted to remember this moment, every detail, as though that would make it last longer. While you were looking, he opened his eyes and caught yours.
“But you liked to kissing mes?” he asked, his voice more nervous than you’d heard all night. “You thinks I’ms is handsome?”
You hesitated before concluding the cat was fully out of the bag on this one and nodded. “I liked kissing you and I think you’re handsome, Toki. If you asked, I might even say you’re hot as fuck.”
Toki beamed at you, nudging you with his knee. He seemed too tired to move as fast as he was in the heat of the moment but he reached to put his hand on your hip and squeezed. “Okies, you cans drives us home. We is goings to my room,” you blushed but he continued without notice, “we cans talk, I ams asking you questions, it is ams dates.”
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A Discovery of Ghosts // Luke Patterson
Summary: Avoiding the house, the eldest Molina sibling has been unaware of the new chapter in Julie’s life until one fateful night.
Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff and overprotective!reader
Words: 2.1k
Oh look! Another JATP fic. Weird how it appeared? Enjoy! I may have a part two for Lost Time. If you want it, let me know!
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The dirty bag dropped on the ground as you cracked your neck heading straight for the kitchen, for the last year you would find Julie in there. Before the loss of your mother Julie spent all her time in the studio whether it be doing homework or playing the piano. Now, with the grief still striking hot within the Molina family even a year later.
“Jules?” You called out pouring a large glass of water. Dropping the empty water bottle in the sink.
In all honesty you hadn’t been home longer than to grab a bite and sleep before heading straight back to the field. It was a way of keeping away from the sadness permeating the house and the absence of your mom. Along with avoiding the awkward conversations of selling the house when it was really only Julie that okay with it.
“Dad?” You called next grabbing the sticky note off the fridge
Girls,
Carlos had a last-minute practice. Money left in the jar for supper.
- Dad
You hummed heading for the stairs to take a shower taking a guess that Julie was either in her room or at Flynn’s place. Bag in hand along with the softball bat you started up the stairs leading to your room. The faint conversation from her room was odd to say the least, the door was closed, and it sounded like more than one person.
The door opened easily under your hand scaring Julie who was sitting on her bed with a disgruntled expression. Her look of terror and nerves was the most concerning. Dropping the bag, you gripped the softball bat tight as you pushed the door open the rest of the way.
“Jules?” You spoke scanning the room, “Why do you have three boys in your room?”
The room went stock still, each boy scanning your form and the bat in hand. Standing in uniform coated in red soil from the infield you were on the more intimidating side.
“You can see them?”
“Jules, are you okay?” You questioned ignoring her odd question with a look of concern, the bat dropped low.
The last year had been extremely more difficult on Julie than Carlos and you given that Julie was closer with Mom with music. Carlos and you hadn’t inherited the gift that Julie had been born with; yet she hadn’t found interest in sports.
“She looks like she could break us?”
You sent a confused look at the trio giving your attention back to your little sister, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately, but you shouldn’t be acting out like this.” Julie’s jaw dropped at your words, “I’m not acting out! Dad can’t see-“
“He can’t see this because it shouldn’t be happening Julie.” You sternly told the younger Molina, “Just let me shower and we’ll hang out. You can pick the movie and the snacks, but they have to go. If you want, we can even dig out the projector.”
You pointedly looked at the three boys before turning your heel to head out of her room to yours down the hall. The door was closed tight as it always was, it was your space so when the door was shut no one went in. Trust was important in your family and with Julie uncharacteristically sneaking boys in that could mean all trust on closed doors would break.
“They’re ghosts.” Julie called out from her open door. The concern for the girl growing at her words, “I know that sounds bad and makes it seem like I need to see Dr. Turner but I’m not lying.”
You sighed at the girl completely in disbelief at the length she would go to lie, “Maybe you should see Dr. Turner Jules. Seeing the doctor doesn’t make you weak.”
Julie was silent as you began to open your door before the blonde boy literally appeared out of thin air in front of you.
“Oh my god!” You screamed stumbling back from the tall male, “Oh God. Scratch that! WE both need Dr. Turner.”
Two more bursts of light happened as the other two boys appeared in front of you with sheepish expressions. You took in a deep breath finally taking into consideration of Julie’s admittance.
“I-“ You choked out, “Does this mean Benny was a ghost?”
Julie blushed at the mention of her childhood imaginary friend that she had had for a number of years. It was also a time that Tía Victoria was not welcome in your home when she went behind your parents to schedule an appointment with Dr. Turner.
“Benny? No, I’m Reggie.” The boy with slicked back black hair spoke shaking his head, “This is Alex and Luke.”
You mutely nodded clenching your fists together, “Good thing you’re a ghost or I would have punched you.”
Luke’s eyes widened at the threat, “Whoa.”
“Now move. I just got home from practice, I’m sweaty and dirty.” You announced side stepping the ghostly trio. You grimaced at the blush appearing on Reggie and Luke, “Dead but still think inappropriately.”
“We’re teenage ghosts.” Alex announced glancing at his best friends. His hands shoved deep in his pockets as you took in his words.
You glanced over your shoulder at your little sister, “Just stay out of Julie’s room. And don’t look under Carlos’ bed.”
With that you opened the bedroom door and slammed in in their dead faces. The room had drastically changed from the previous year mainly the pale pink was painted over by a new colour. It was no longer the little girl’s room your mother had decorated while preparing for your birth. It was a young woman’s room decorated to fit your personality.
Located on a wall was the rack of softball bats with a number of softballs settled in divots on the connected shelf. Your room also had the only other connected bathroom, being the oldest sibling had benefits.
“Ghosts.” You muttered jumping when a thud happened. Turning your heel, you saw that Alex had opened the door and tossed your ball bag in.
“You left this. Sorry for interrupting.” Alex apologized as he left the room again.
“Boundaries!” You called out heading into your bathroom. Alex smiled at how similar he thought you and Julie were to each other.
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Half of you had anticipated Julie getting the living room ready instead of using the projector in the garage; it was a part of growing up. The first time you can remember seeing the projector was when you first got your period and it became a thing with your mom. For the length of time for you period you had movie nights in the garage and when Julie got her first period it came a ritual. It helped that as sisters your periods synched together.
“Julie.” You breathed finding that she had surprised you. She had waited in the living room for you, “You didn’t.”
Shyly the younger Molina girl nodded her head and led you to the studio outside where it decorated as if the past year hadn’t happened. The projected was brought out along with countless snacks, fuzzy blankets and soda. It was also barren of anyone else.
“I’m guessing from the amount of time you’re in here that the ghosts live here?” You deduced at the musical instruments placed in an area they wouldn’t get in the way.
“Yeah.” Julie nodded, “I’m not sure where they are.”
“Righ-“
“Reggie!” Alex hissed from the loft with an apologetic expression, “We’re finding something to do while you use the studio. We’re be gone in a moment.”
Reggie and Luke nodded in response while digging through the things that had collected up there since 1995. Your smile turned into a frown at the discontentment they each displayed.
“Jules. Do they have anywhere else to go?” You whispered feeling sad when Julie indicated that this was their only place, “Why don’t we change this?”
“Change what?”
“I know that this feels odd without Mom but maybe we can make this better. Alex, would you guys like to stay?”
The question was barely spoke before the three ghosts flashed down to the ground floor with beaming grins. Each boy nodded happily eyeing up places to sit, Luke having fallen on the couch beside you. Julie shuffled making more room on the couch draping a blanket over her lap.
“So, Julie…comedy, horror, or romance?” You questioned raising one eyebrow up waiting for the reply, “Or we can subject the boys to Twilight. Then again Alex might enjoy Mean Girls.”
After reading the short description of the film Mean Girls was vetoed out along with Horror but the issue came with the move genre. Luke wanted a film with music while Reggie was asking for romance and Alex was just wanting to watch something.
“Pitch Perfect.” Julie and you spoke together nodding frantically, it had a moderately nice balance between music and romance.
“Pitch Perfect.” Alex stated unamused at the title, “How is that romance?”
“You’ll find out.” You smirked at the male dead teenager who would more than likely adore watching films to catch up on everything he missed during his twenty-five years in a dark room.
Every once in a while, Luke would gaze longingly at the food gathered around the only two living people. It was sad given the love he had had with food when he was still alive, he would anything in sight to be honest.
“Oh my god! The Breakfast Club! That came out ten years ago! It’s popular now?” Reggie exclaimed twisting to look to Julie.
“Gentle reminder. It came out thirty-five years ago. It’s a classic John Hughes! Of course, it’s popular.” You chuckled shaking your head by leaning back. You felt the caress of Luke’s gaze on your cheek but when you glanced over, he was staring hard at the screen.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” Luke nodded with a smile painted on his lips getting further into the comedy he found somewhat interesting. It was the song choices that got to him.
The music from your Spotify playlist muted the outside world as you focused on the computer screen open to a document. Eyes shifting between the paper of notes on your desk to the half-written History essay due in a few days. The last week had been mostly adapting to being one of two people able to see the band.
“Y/N.” Luke spoke from the doorway he had poofed into. A frown pulling the corner of his lips down at the lack of attention. In an action of desperation he chucked a pencil on your back; you flinched turning to see him in your room.
“Luke?” You asked removing an earbud from your ear. The joys of 2020 came with Bluetooth earbuds.
“Oh. You were listening to music.” Luke nodded moving to grab the earbud from the desk curiously, “Where are the wires? So small! How do they work?”
Launching into a short history on the change of music technology Luke was enthralled by the passion you carried. What he didn’t know was you were researching the changes between 1995 and 2020 for his benefit. Going as far as to compile a playlist for all three boys to introduce them to modern music.
“This is insane.” Luke mumbled handing the earbud back, “Cell phones are what get me!”
“Hey, doesn’t matter if your seventeen or forty-something…you still don’t understand it.” You smirked flinching when Luke tossed a decorative pillow at you with practiced ease. The squeal fell from your lips as it happened.
“If I was forty-something this would be very wrong.” Luke cheekily retorted tapping a finger on his knee thinking back on everything that happened, “Had everything gone to plan you would have known me only by music.”
“I’m sorry you died but I’m really happy we met.” The nerves evident in your tone, something that you didn’t often show. Softball was important and possibly the only ticket to college if everything went right.
“Me too.” Luke smile at the girl across him eyes so soft he could see what Alex and Reggie were trying to tell him.
Luke had a crush. Luke had feelings for a girl living and unable to feel his touch.
“Hey! I made a playlist for you guys. Let me know when you want to hear them, and I’ll get it playing for you. I have to get back to my essay. Feel free to stay.”
Luke graciously took the earbud from your hand leaning back on the bed as you played the rock he had unfortunately missed out on. Both unaware that his fingers had grazed your hand during the handoff. Luke has a crush and he can touch her too.
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The most baffling part of WKM is that everyone trusts and adores Damien, despite him being the only one in politics and actively in office. Mark made the mayor character the most trusted and loved. How????
(uh oh, you unlocked my 'Love Damien' mode)
You came to the right person! This is a great question and I will gladly go on a rant to try and help shed a little light on this!
In short, it's exactly because of how you phrased your question. There's a politician. He's seen as nice and trusted and loved. It seems like something that shouldn't be, and you assume the worst of him because it has to be an act for whatever reason; and that is because of the general view of politicians at the moment. I'm not touching IRL topics with a ten foot pole, but I will say that at present, there is a sorta wariness/a 'they don't care about us' vibe toward politicians in certain countries (including my own). That's something that then seeps into media.
Think about it. If there's a politician in a show of any sort (especially one holding office), they're usually up to no good behind the scenes or are unreliable - just like how a librarian might be cranky, for instance - in a sort of caricature. Off the top of my head I can remember seeing... A mayor that wanted to evict an entire community to build a business something-or-other to make lots of money, a mayor who branded a local team of agents as non-trustworthy when they went against his pretty crummy views (which could be the same show tbh), an absolutely useless buffoon of a mayor who needed the help of children to constantly save his city from supervillains, and a politician (maybe a mayor?) who constantly clashed with the chief of police in a city. This isn't even considering the times a politician character (whether or not they hold office) is involved with criminals, bribery, is being blackmailed, or even has a criminal record of some sort.
Damien is an exception to this trope. It may or may not be completely intentional, but it's genius on Mark's part. You walk in, see this well-dressed man with a rather cheesy Mayor badge pinned on... And people would immediately get suspicious... Something which Mark called people out on at a panel! Don't forget, every character was framed in a way to give reason for them maybe being the killer. I watched WKM (and got vaguely into the fandom) a week after it finished, so I missed the speculation in between each episode. From what I've seen, it appeared that a lot of people were wary of Damien, though I'm not too sure if it's because they were like "IT'S JUST DARK IN DISGUISE DON'T BE FOOLED" or if it was because of his job and mannerisms. Either way, it turns out his worries were genuine, and he was innocent of any crime that night, which completely subverts the expectation of a politician in a show. He's a rare breed - someone that has good intentions and a good heart, who wasn't 'tainted' by politics in some way.... But ends up getting corrupted anyway through matters far beyond his control.
Not only that, there's two important points that I think people forget and I'll go into better detail of under the read-more because this is getting pretty long.
-
1. The character that is the viewer has known Damien since university. That means they've been friends minimum... Let's say five years, but probably closer to ten. You're going to be more at ease and more 'yourself' around people you are very fond of, and Damien's face lit up the moment he noticed the viewer arrived. Since the viewer would be going into this cold the first time it's viewed, they wouldn't feel that bond and might think Damien's friendliness is an act. 2. While he is the Mayor, he's not The Mayor at that moment. He's merely a Mayor by title alone. For the events of Who Killed Markiplier?, he's just Damien. It would be different if we had walked into his office, but we arrived at a party with people Damien was comfortable with. He had no need to impress anyone because they were friends. Remember, the reason the badge exists is to tell the viewer what Damien does. Otherwise he could be any sort of businessman or guy in a fancy suit, and the explain everything video states that everyone thought Mark got the suit for a wedding when he shared a photo.
(Both points are showcased nicely in the very first scene we meet Damien if you compare the way he talks to the Detective - someone he barely knew - to the viewer - who has been a friend since university. When talking to Abe, Damien stands poker straight (almost rigid) and rests his hands on his cane. One hand moves to emphasise something, but the rest of his body remains still. There's a polite, yet formal, air to him. Here, he is The Mayor. I'd bet they were having casual conversation on how they met Mark or some other generic topic to break the ice. Then the pair notice you and that conversation is instantly DROPPED. Damien immediately lifts his cane as his entire body turns to the viewer. That smile isn't one that's given out of politeness. He's now Damien. There's no need to put on an act when it's a familiar friend. He still stands straight, but his body language and facial expressions are far looser and more casual. Gestures are with both hands now. His expressions are more playful, including widening his eyes to emphasise his tease about the viewer's skill of poker. This continues until he walks off-screen where, I presume, he was going to say hello to William.)
We don't know the extent of how much anyone trusts anyone else, but one of the big exceptions is the Colonel. I know I've written a headcanon on a roleplay blog about this, but he didn't know you, so he was polite, but distant and aloof. He had no reason to even care about you. We saw a good example of William acting like this the morning after. HOWEVER, after spotting the viewer talking to Damien outside at the end of the first episode, he notices a connection. The moment he knows you are Damien's friend he opens up with no hesitation in the second episode and is rather friendly toward you from then on. He trusts you because he trusts Damien, which to me suggests that our Mayor keeps good company and has a good judge of character. Plus, no one really has a reason to think ill of Damien. He and William have an argument focused on William's reaction to Mark's death (and don't forget that Damien wanted to apologise but William kept running away), while Celine shuts him down for Damien trying to get her to reconsider her idea; but neither are motives for them to be suspicious of Damien. Chef and George are indifferent, while the Butler is probably indifferent but feels comfortable enough to make a drug joke with Damien in earshot (and Tyler's IC stream as Butler had it that he thought well of Damien, but this might not be considered canon). On the other hand, you could say that the Detective is wary of Damien, but he was suspicious of everyone between all the work he did and the warning he got from Mark, so it's not completely reliable.
Speaking of, I haven't forgotten about the Detective's study and how there's a record sheet for Damien with something scribbled out. Unfortunately, I don't think it's something we'll ever get clarification on. I double-checked the explanation stream and there wasn't any mention of what was on it... But I feel like I heard Mark say something like 'forget about what is there, focus on why it's there', or how it got there in the first place? Maybe it was for another project, but the idea is more that the Detective's work was built up over time, and not in the span of that weekend; rather than focusing on every little piece of writing that can be seen. Perhaps there is something shady in Damien's life... But since it wasn't relevant to the 'story' we were being shown, it was omitted. This could very well be where people take the idea of a corrupt politician and run with it (and I have seen some excellent roleplayers over the years work with that!), or they could be like me and say that the crimes were things he was framed for. Or maybe, as I'm writing this, it could be like how Abe had documents for things that didn't happen in WMLW, and that the crimes he scribbled out were ones that Dark would do later... But that's going into theorist territory and that's not at all relevant to what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I've rambled on waaay too much as it is. He's trusted and loved as a character because he's so human. Mark pointed out in the explanation stream that Damien was the only one to question what was going on. He was upset, mourning, and had no idea what to do. It's a vulnerability that you don't see from people often, especially if they are supposed to be leaders.
If there's anything people wanna add or point out, jump in and do so! :D
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iamjungkooked · 3 years
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Mr. Min
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↳Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader
↳Genre: Romance (all fluff)
↳Word count: 4.7K
↳Rating: G
↳Warnings: None
↳Summary:
Min Yoongi is the asshole boss who keeps you late at work every night. But then you find out why and it gives you the upper hand.
A/N: I hope you guys like it!! Finally wrote something less than 5k. It has been a while for sure. Cross posting this from my other blog @iamtaekooked​. You guys have been following me on here even though i am like never on here its crazy. I LOVE YOU ALL. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I AM GOING TO TRY POSTING MORE IF MY LIFE LETS ME.
Your hand begins cramping as you finish writing the report for asshole number one Min Yoongi. Writing a report is easy, but having to write it by hand is what makes you want to strangle him. The tiny blue desk clock strikes 11 pm and once again you lose out on the opportunity to live your life. At this point, you have lost track of how many times you have stayed late at the office while your friends enjoy their weekends with dinners, movies and activities. Sometimes it’s so bad that you video call them just as you’re about to drift off to sleep.
You don’t even bother to hope to go home early anymore. Min Yoongi always finds ways to make you stay late with him. You went through the five stages of grief at first because you felt your life was being taken away from you. You even thought of threatening him with a lawsuit because he couldn’t make you work over 40 hours a week. When you did he was quick to turn the tables by offering you overtime pay-- and not a measly sum. It was money you couldn’t turn away. So, once again you let yourself fall prey to his actions.
Slowly but surely you began getting used to this so-called “routine”. Gradually, hours started fading into one another until one day you became so habituated with staying late (and to the mind-boggling pay) that Yoongi didn’t even have to come to your cubicle to hand you anything. You already asked him in the morning for your evening assignment. One would think this would be a hint for him-- but no. The man was as clueless as one could be.
Like any other night, you had an assignment, one which Yoongi labelled as important. But then again everything was important. Any task he assigned (or rather you asked for) he classified as important. You wondered if he understood what the word means because if everything is important then technically nothing is. Rather than ask him about it, which wasn’t necessary anyway you did what you were handsomely paid to do.
A sigh passed your dry lips. Once again you grabbed the pen and began writing-- this time going as fast as your wrist would allow. The ink flowed from the pen to the paper in black scribbles, hardly understandable. But you could not bring yourself to care. He would have to deal with it, and that was that.
Having written the last sentence, you capped the pen and pushed back the chair so you could go to his office. Your heels hurt from wearing six-inch pumps all day. No less would do because turns out asshole Min Yoongi had made that provision because apparently, it looked “more professional”. While walking to his office you just imagined torturing him in your mind by making him wear these fucking heels. It was slightly comical imagery but also satisfying, so much so that you could not help yourself from smiling.
You knocked on the opaque glass door as you reached his office. It was customary for you to knock once and for him to not answer. Normally you would slide the documents or whatever is needed under the door because Yoongi had specifically requested he not be disturbed. But something prompted you to stick your head against the glass door and peer inside through the clear margins. You couldn’t see anything so despite Yoongi’s “request” you turned the knob, opened the door slightly and peeked your head inside. The scene in front of you however was not quite something you were expecting.
Min Yoongi was laying back against his very comfortable looking plush leather rotating chair, with his headphones on, legs resting on top of the table and his eyes fixed with a concentration on his laptop. There were empty boxes of takeout at his desk and the whole image conveyed to you that he hadn’t actually done any work. It was an inkling, which means you could be wrong. But you would be damned if you didn’t make your presence known.
You walked inside, standing halfway between him and the door and cleared your throat as loud as you could. There was no response as expected. You walked a few steps and stopped just short of his desk, yet he still did not notice you. You looked at the report in your hand and threw it on his desk, which landed with a thud. He jumped, and finally looked at you. It took a second but the realization dawned on him. His eyes bulged like he had been caught red-handed and you noticed his adam’s apple bob as he gulped hard.
He hastily took off his earphones and straightened in his chair. “I thought I told you not to disturb me”
“I am sorry, did I ruin the fun?” your brows knit together.
“Do you have the report?” he asked instead.
You look at the papers on his desk and then back at him to make him aware of it sitting in front of his eyes.  
He fumbles with the papers and picks them up. While he’s busy scanning the papers you take in the state of his desk. One side is completely neat with all the binders and files organized, and the other is just filled with trash. As you’re busy studying the contents of his desk, you notice the name of your client’s company on one of the papers. Curiously you reach towards the file, Yoongi still busy reading your report. You scan the pages and realize without even having to read halfway through it that Yoongi had already finished the report and it was marked with yesterday’s date, which means he already sent it to the client.
“Do you care to explain this Mr. Min?” your fingers curl into a fist around the papers.
His eyes widen once more. “Oh shit” he mumbles-- a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.
He sighs, dropping your report on the table. “Oh fuck” he rubs his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he says with a straight face just a moment after looking like he’d been caught.
“It looks like you already completed the report. Why did I have to do it if you already did it?”
“I wanted you to” he’s quick to reply.
“I am sorry Mr. Min but that is not a good enough explanation. I stayed here even though I did not have to. I find it unfair that I have to do work that has already been done-- and that too by you. I doubt you don’t trust yourself with work”
“That’s enough with the questions” he replied curtly.
“Wait a minute” you look back at the pile of papers on his desk and find a presentation he had asked you to make for him a week ago. However,  the date this presentation was printed was a week before that which means that once again he made you do something that had already been done. Sensing a pattern you decided to confront him right then and there.
“Pardon my french, but why the hell have I been doing work that had already been done?”
Yoongi sighed once more, but this time he sounded more defeated than the first. “Look, I can’t give you an explanation you will like. There isn’t one. But I’ll tell you the truth”
“Good” you fold your arms across your chest.
“You won’t like this either but I asked you to stay late because I wanted you to be here with me. I never got used to working late at night. Something about being alone always irked me, so I started keeping people around. It’s not right, I know” he’s quick to justify just as he noticed you opening your mouth to speak. “Trust me, I know. But then when Brian left and you joined, I knew that I needed you around. So I started asking you to stay late. Turns out, I liked your company more than I have liked anyone else’s so I even started paying you to stay late, which I have never done either” he finishes, The only problem is he doesn’t sound sincere enough. It’s like he’s telling you for the sake of telling you.
“I am sorry Mr. Min but you are not a child. I can’t be putting my life on hold just so you don’t have to be alone at night. Do you have any idea how many occasions and opportunities I have missed in my life because of this? I couldn’t attend my best friend’s graduation, I couldn’t be there for the birth of my nephew because I was here slaving away. To think it was for nothing is terrible. You should really say sorry” you glare at the man, demanding an apology you know you deserve because it doesn’t matter how much money you got paid. It won’t compensate for the memories you could have made.
He purses his lips. “I won’t” he shakes his head. “I know it’s wrong but I don’t say sorry”
You scoff. “You’re an asshole”
He shrugs as if your remark doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be that as it may. I did what I did because I like having you around. In fact, I did it because I like you and I am not ashamed of it”
Under normal circumstances, you probably would have been flattered and even blushed at having been confessed to. But these weren’t normal circumstances and on top of that, it was Min Yoongi.
“How about this-- you can go home early for all of next week” he offers.
It actually makes your blood boil because he thinks he’s being generous. But even if you gave him a wide berth, this wasn’t even cutting it close “All of next month actually” you counter, determined in your own way to make him apologize for his actions.
He considers it. A few beats of silence pass as both of you continue to stare at each other. “Fine” he agrees.
“Good.” you say shortly, before turning on your heels and heading towards the door.
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Yoongi ends up keeping his word for the whole of next month. If it were up to you, you would have asked him that you will never stay late. But after your anger had died down in a week or so, the rational part of your mind convinced you that the money was too good. And it was. So you didn’t try to extend it.
In that one month, however, Yoongi was being awfully generous towards you. You figured it was his way of making up for his actions.
After a week of your heated conversation with him, you found a bouquet of flowers at home addressed to your best friend. There was no name on it. It turned out you did not need a name, because one you knew whose handwriting it was and secondly, the apology was enough for you to know who they were from.
I am sorry y/n missed your graduation. I realize she should have been there with you and it is my fault she was not. I can’t turn back time but I hope these flowers and this small gift make up for it. Congratulations on your achievement.
Accompanying the flowers was a generous gift, one which could have only been given by Yoongi. A full spa weekend with your best friend. It was an all-inclusive offer.
It felt like he was bribing you to forgive him. But even if that were the case, you felt you deserved this and you would be damned if you let it go to waste. If this is how he wanted to apologize, then so be it. In a way, he was giving you the opportunity to spend quality time with Hana.
Hana was ecstatic. “Isn’t it sweet?” she said dreamily.
You couldn’t help but scoff. “It’s not sweet. It’s what he should be doing. Not this exact thing per se. But he needs to be making up for what he did and he is” you reminded her.
“Fine” Hana was quick to give up because even she knew not to argue.
To apologize, at the end of the month Yoongi also ends up giving you the biggest client. This one you feel conflicted about because you can’t discern his intention. So you do the only thing you can. You went charging to his office to demand an explanation.
Maybe he heard you coming but before you could even open your mouth after entering the room he was already speaking.
“I know,” he says as he gave you one glance before focusing on his laptop as he typed away. “I gave you a client because you deserve it. Trying to make up for troubling you is also part of it, but it’s mostly because you deserve it” he explains without sparing you another glance this time. “It just so happens Karla likes you and I think you can understand each other well as women. Not to mention you have great marketing skills that Karla’s company could use” he finishes speaking and the sound of keys clacking stops as well. He gives you his undivided attention. “So” he joins his fingers in a steeple, elbows resting on the desk. “What do you think?”
You don’t even give it a second of thought. “You made a good decision Mr. Min” corners of your lips curve in a smile.
“Of course I did” he reciprocates your smile. “I never make bad decisions” his smile grows into a knowing grin.
You catch the sarcastic play on words. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that”. Your gaze lingers on his a second longer before you nod and turn away to leave.
Just as you reach for the door, he speaks.
“Do your best”
You turn around and give him a curtsey nod. “You bet I will”
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You’re back to working late nights, but this time with Yoongi in his office on actual things that matter.
You and Yoongi have been working on a pitch for Karla’s company to convince them to change their branding. You work late hours into the night as usual. You flirt here and there, but nothing major happens as you both keep it professional(ish). There are a few laughs exchanged, a couple of longing gazes, moments so thick with tension you could practically taste it on your tongue.
You lean over to look at Yoongi’s list of ideas, but unknowingly invade his personal bubble-- that intimate zone only reserved for significant others/spouses. You get caught up in the moment as you look at him, and he looks at you. For a moment you think he’ll kiss you. But instead, he clears his throat. “I’ll be back” his voice is a whisper.
He gets up hurriedly and leaves, clearing his throat all the way to the door.
You watch his figure disappear behind the opaque glass door.
“Keep it professional” you chide yourself with a shake of the head.
You focus back on your notes, flipping through the pages trying to put a concept map together.
A draft of air hits you and you look in the direction to find Yoongi opening the door. He walks in a few feet, one hand hidden behind his back.
Curiosity piqued and you offer him an inquisitive look. “What are you hiding Mr. Min?”
Wordlessly, he brings his arm forward. In his hand is a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.
“How did you-” you start.
“I know” he erases the distance between you as he stops just shy of invading your intimate space and holds out the flowers.
You reach for them. “Thank you. But how do you know I like these?”
“You said it” he mentions.
“I did?” you look at him puzzled.
“Two nights ago. We were talking about using florals to brighten up the aesthetic for Karla’s company and you mentioned baby’s breath is your favourite flower”
“ I don’t even remember saying that” you shake your head, almost in disbelief that he remembered. “You actually remembered?”
He nods. “I remember everything you say” he replies“ no matter how sharply you put it” he adds with a chuckle.
At a loss for words, all you can do is stare at the man filled with a foreign feeling.
“Thank you” you finally manage to say.
“You’re very welcome” his lips curve into a smile.
He returns to his seat while you place the flowers on his desk as gently as you can. Once he’s seated you take the opportunity to ask. “Mr. Min” you address him.
“Yeah” he looks at you in a way that makes your heart race faster.
“Why did you give me these?” it feels like the incessant urgent know has been satisfied and you feel relieved.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to” he looks down at the papers in front of him. A few moments of silence pass as you continue studying him while he keeps his gaze downcast. “An-anyway let's get back to it” he quickly changes the subject.
You nod. Under the dim lighting of his office, for the very first time you notice how handsome he looks. His skin looks like porcelain, his eyes glimmer with a hint of golden flecks around the irises. His lips look buttery soft. You bite back on your lip as you realize how much quicker you’re breathing.
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi questions as he looks up at you.
You vigourously shake your head. “I just— I am sorry”
“I caught you staring didn’t I?” he responds but it’s not really meant to be a question. “I don’t mind. I like the attention” he winks.
Your eyes widen. “I— I wasn’t” your attempt at denying it is futile and even you know it. But you have to at least attempt to save face.
“If it helps, I actually think it’s cute” his lips upturn in a playful smile.
You keep mum, considering there is nothing to say. Even though you don’t speak, the smile on your lips says everything Yoongi needs to know.
You hear him softly laughing and you can sense him just shaking his head. Then you hear something and you aren’t sure if you hear it right but it sounds an awful lot like “you’re cute miss y/n”
You end up spending another hour brainstorming ideas. After that last exchange between you, you thought you couldn’t concentrate. But you did. And once more you flirted a little, exchanged gazes, and avoid as hard as you can to pay no mind to the vibe between you.
“I think we should call it a night” Yoongi stretches his arms over his head with a groan. “You’re tired too”
“Okay” you start gathering all the papers into a pile.
“Don’t worry about this” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ll do it. Start getting your stuff together. I’ll drop you off”
“You don’t have to” you reply, the burdensome feeling coming on. “I can go home”
“Did I give you a choice?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just because I got you these flowers, and that spa day and gave you Karla doesn’t mean you get to tell what I have or don’t have to do. Got it” he sounds a little stern, but in a way where he’s being thoughtful more than trying to be a jerk.
“Yes, Mr. Min” the meekness in your voice surprises you. As you stand in front of him you cannot understand what brings on this sudden submissive attitude. But you have already agreed and something tells you Mr. Min won’t take no for an answer.
“I’ll be right there” he motions to the door with his head, indicating that you should pack up.
“Okay” you pick up the bouquet and quietly walk out of his office.
The walk back to your desk is filled with mixed emotions. A fluttery feeling floats in your stomach, giving you the perception that your head is spinning. You almost stumble as you reach your desk. You realize you’re breathless as you grip onto the edges of the desk to steady yourself. “Shit. So much for keeping it professional” you mutter while you grab your bag. You sling it over your shoulder. You gather the flowers in your hand as you wait for Yoongi.
Moments later he’s coming out. “Ready?” he asks.
With a dry mouth and dizzying intoxication brought upon his presence all you do is nod.
“After you.” he says.
Maybe he isn’t an asshole after all.
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The sounds of crickets chirping in the silence of the night help shroud some of your thoughts. But not enough apparently because merely Yoongi’s presence is enough to send you in a tizzy. It’s maybe only been about five seconds since Yoongi stopped in front of your house but it sure feels like hours.
“Umm” you’re the first to break the silence. “Well, thank you for the ride an-and for these flowers”
“You’re welcome” comes his quiet voice.
You unlock the door, one foot already out of the door.
“Wait” his hand on your forearm stops you.
You turn to look at him. “Yeah?”
“I actually brought you these flowers because I was going to ask you on a date” he confesses.
“Oh” is all you can manage. You don’t know what else to say.
“So, will you…?” he sounds unsure as he says these words, almost like he himself doesn’t know.
He sounds sincere enough. But as it stands you have two choices: give in easily at which point you may as well give up any hope in future of asking him for anything. Or you could just play hard to get so he knows it won’t be easy.
“I’ll think about” confidence flows through your voice, and along with a coy smirk on your lips.
Yoongi’s previously solemn expression is replaced by a crooked smile. He studies you quietly, making you wonder what he’s thinking. “I’ll give you five minutes”
“No. If that’s how long you think it takes to figure out whether I want to give you a chance, then my answer is no”.
“Fine. How long do you want?”
“It’s not about long I want Mr. Min. It’s about how long you are willing to wait” and without hearing his response you exit the car.
All Yoongi can do is stare at you open-mouthed-- stunned and in utter disbelief.
You didn’t know Yoongi would wait for two whole months. You didn’t expect him to keep it professional between you either
You also didn’t expect Min Yoongi to come to your desk at 2 pm and ask you to look over the designs for one of your clients.
“You look lovely today y/n” he stops next to your desk, holding out a file for you.
“I always look lovely” you take the file from him, dismissing his compliment because you’re sure he’s just buttering you up into doing something for him. Not that you wouldn’t if he hadn’t said anything.
“I mean it” his voice softens as he recognizes your disbelief. “Blue looks good on you’” he motions to your blue blouse, and looks you straight in the eyes. He doesn’t even flinch-- which means he actually probably means it.
You certainly don’t regret picking it out anymore. “Thank you”
“You’re very welcome.” he adds with a smile that stretches into a grin. “Oh and can you look this over. Please and thank you”
“I will” you nod. “Question for you”
“Anything” he half sits on your desk as he awaits your ask.
“Did you come here to give me the file or to tell me I look good?”
“I came here to tell you, you look beautiful if what you’re after is my motive” the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft flirty smile.
“I am. But I’ll also look at this” you gesture to the file in your hand.
He acknowledges your response with a nod as he turns around and starts towards his office.
“Mr. Min” you call out and he turns around. “That suit looks great on you”
It takes him a second to comprehend your words, but as soon as he does, he’s back to smiling. “Thank you y/n”
Just as easily he struts away, just as easily everyone around you is stunned into silence. It looks like a comic scene as everyone looks at Yoongi’s retreating figure with mouth’s agape.
“Did he flirt with you?” one of your coworker’s peers over the divide between your cubicles.
You look up at him. “Yes he did”
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At 4 pm, you walk back to his office with your notes on the changes that should be made. You knock on the door once. He doesn’t answer so you take it as your cue to enter.
“Here are the notes” you hold out the file as you stop just in front of his desk.
“It’s already done?” Yoongi is forced to look up his work.
“Yes and yes”
“Okay. You can leave it on the desk” he goes back to his work.
You wait for him to catch on. But he doesn’t. So you start towards the door.
“Wait” he calls out. “Yes and Yes?”
You turn around, feeling giddy with anticipation.
“What’s the second yes for?” he looks at you puzzled.
“I guess you don’t want to go on that date anymore” you quirk a brow.
He closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Took you long enough”
“You reap what you sow Mr. Min”
“Is that right?” it’s rhetorical of course but you nod anyway.
He chuckles. “Let’s go “ he grabs his coat from the back of the chair and swings it around and on his shoulders.
You look at him puzzled. “Right now? What about work?”
“First, I am the boss so I make the rules and I say we go. Second, I made the mistake of offering you five minutes of time to make your decision. You really think I am going to give you a day or two for this date”
You can’t help but laugh. “In that case Mr. Min, let’s go”
He heads to the door first as you follow “After you” he opens it and you’re almost out of the door when he shuts the door. “Wait. I have to do something” he pulls you to himself, supporting you by the waist as he presses his lips to yours.
Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours. But the flutter in your stomach only intensifies. You feel weak in the knees. You hold onto the nape of Yoongi’s neck as your legs begin to tingle. Yoongi’s hands rest on your sides, and gently make their way up to cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue dances against your lips.
Yoongi keeps his eyes slightly open as he pulls back for air. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming so he held onto you tighter, causing you to become aware of the contour of his body flush against yours. “I am sorry if I took you by surprise” he’s slightly breathless and flushed. “I wasn’t sure how the date would go and if I would get the chance to do this. If you don’t want to go anymore” he stops to lick his lips. “I would understand” he finishes.
“So you’re not an asshole after all” you look at him through the curtain of your eyelashes.
He raises a brow at you silently telling you to consider your wording as if you're treading on thin ice. “I am still your boss”
You shrug. “You lost the upper hand when you asked me out”
“I knew I liked you for a reason” he says while he takes a tiny step back to give you space and time to collect yourself.
“I think I might fall” your breathless voice takes you by surprise.
“You already have” he curls his fingers around yours.
Hand in hand you walk out of his office, causing ruckus in your wake as your coworkers gawk in disbelief at your departing figures. Because how could Mr.Min be acting like this? More importantly, how could Mr. Min be smiling like an absolute idiot.
I hope you enjoyed it :) Don’t forget to like and reblog! Thank you for reading.
236 notes · View notes
spooky-z · 4 years
Text
HIT
Maribat by @ozmav
Warnings: aggression and language
Almost 3K.
All Marinette could see was red, purple and yellow against pale skin.
It was mostly red, the edges already becoming purple and around a sick yellow.
She could blink, look away, try to think of something else, but the image was glued to her eyes.
The anger burning under the skin, the blood running hot in her veins, heart beating angrily against her ribs. She could feel the metallic taste of the cut that her teeth opened on her lip.
Marinette had never felt more hatred for anyone than she did at that moment.
She wanted to jump the jugular and pull out the trachea with her teeth.
The urge to kill.
"... you better get away from her." Damian growled. His face contorted with disgust.
“Who do you think you are to intrude on a family affair?!” Audrey Bourgeois stood, arrogant and pompous, glancing disdainfully at the Pack.
Chloe by her side, her eyes puffy, hair down shadowing her face and lips trembling from holding back the crying. The handprint on the pale cheek was obvious and clearly visible despite the hair to cover.
She didn't dare look at her friends. At the pack. The humiliation was a heavy feeling, seeming worse every moment she heard the shutter sound of a phone camera toward her.
Dupont would have something to talk about for weeks now.
"... who does he think he is?!" Kagami says. She was the only one who seemed coolly calm. "Who YOU think you are." There were more than sharp words coming out. There were canines becoming sharper by the moment and a lack of control going on.
Audrey seems offended by the girl’s words.
"Lower your tone, young lady." She replies. Her tone was threatening. “Do you know who you are talking to? I'm Audrey Bourgeois, one of the greatest designers of the world. Wife of the mayor of Paris. And I can end your family's life in two seconds.”
Adrien smiles mockingly at the woman's words. "I'd love to see that happen... Auntie."
The woman chokes offended at the nickname, but doesn't seem surprised by the boy's behavior.
She raises her eyebrow.
"When Gabriel told me that you were in your rebel phase and that you were taking Chloe the wrong way, I really didn't believe it." She says. "But I see this time he has some reason to warn me."
The Pack grunts at the man's name.
"I knew that piece of trash wouldn't be quiet." Max mutters venomously.
"It's time we put an end to this old man." Kim mumbles back.
Audrey seemed to tire of all the little show they were giving Dupont's students and grabbed Chloe's arm, trying to pull the girl into the limo parked on the sidewalk.
“Come on Chloe, you have to pack your bags. We leave for New York today.” She turns, ignoring the Pack.
Something pops in Marinette, because all she can do is slap Audrey's hand away from Chloe and put herself between them. She probably looked like a wild animal right now.
The stylist shrugs her arm, holding her injured hand. Red face in indignation.
"Don't touch her." Marinette says. "Or I'll be forced to do something you won't like."
“Oh? What are you going to do? Tell your parents? You're nobody, little girl.” Audrey laughs sarcastically. “Chloe, let's go. Now."
"Nette, please, I don't want you to get in trouble." Chloe whispers, the pain was clear in the words.
The sound that comes from Marinette's chest is animalistic. The sound made the Pack shudder with the force and the dark feeling dripping into it.
Marinette would not let Chloe be taken. Not by Audrey, at least.
She doesn't look away from the adult Bourgeois before firing commands at the Pack.
"Damian, call Richard." The boy is quick to pick up the phone. “Adrien, call Clark and Lois. Let them know they can release that story in the newspaper.” The blonde doesn't even blink at the command. “Kim, Max and Luka, take Chloe to my house and don't let her out of sight.” Max and Kim surround Chloe and she gets carried away.
"Are you sure you want me to go, Mari?" Luka asks quietly, hesitating to leave. He knew that Damian and Adrien were not good at being Marinette's conscience in difficult situations. "I can stay and Adrien go with Chloe."
Marinette waves denying it. She looks at him just fast enough to calm him down before turning her attention back to Audrey.
“Kagami will stay with me and can keep me from doing something extreme.” Responds. "Chloe will need you more now."
“Alright, bu-”
"I'll call if I need support." Kagami is quick to answer him.
Luka hesitates for two more seconds before running after the other three who were waiting in the car with Auguste (aka Gorilla).
When only Damian, Marinette, Adrien and Kagami were left with Audrey (besides the audience watching), Marinette calmed down. The heated air was suddenly getting cold.
She was ready to attack.
“Do you really think hiding Chloe from me is going to work? I am her mother! The first lady! I run this town!” Audrey starts to scream. "Nothing you do will stop me from taking my daughter away from this... filthy relationship going on here."
Kagami steps forward wanting to attack the woman, but Adrien holds her hand and she stops, coming back to herself.
Damian had hung up the phone signaling an "OK" with his fingers.
"How about you shut up?" He says. “Keep talking will only make your situation worse.”
“Make my situation worse? What the hell are you talking about?!”
"He's talking about you getting arrested." Marinette replies without emotion. "Assault on a minor, threats, conspiracy with another adult to kidnap a child... There is a long list of your crimes."
Audrey looks attacked by Marinette's words, but also snorts in confusion.
“Conspiracy to kidnap a child?!” She grits her teeth. “Look at me and tell me if I look like someone who kidnaps someone! She is my daughter and I have the right to take her wherever I want when I want.”
Adrien laughs cynically at the woman.
"Not. You don't have.” He says. "Do you remember signing a document giving Chloe full custody to the mayor after signing the divorce a few months ago?"
"How-"
“Yeah, we know you are no longer the mayor's wife and you have no right to do what you did. If you left the country with Chloe without André's written permission, it would become a kidnapping.” Kagami cuts her off.
“She's my daughter!” Audrey stomps her foot.
"No, she is not. You gave up that right and now you hit her.” Damian growls. "You're lucky that murder is against the law, because otherwise..." He whispers deadly, but she can hear.
Audrey turns pale at the boy's words. Seeming to notice for the first time that the four teenagers had equal expressions of hate.
She opened her mouth to say something more, but the sound of police car sirens interrupted her and soon Dick was getting out of the car with Roger.
"Good afternoon." The Parisian cop politely greets, Dick nods without saying anything. “We received a complaint of public disorder and aggression against a minor.”
Audrey, knowing she would be in trouble, tries to get out of the situation by playing the victim.
"Officers, please, those brats went crazy and kidnapped my daughter!" There was a fake tear running down her cheek.
"What?!" Damian complains indignantly. "This crazy woman who was trying to kidnap one of us!"
Roger seemed frankly unsure of what to do, while Dick was watching the scene analytically. He was probably choosing the best way to end Audrey Bourgeois in front of everyone.
"What? No! You who kidnapped my Chloe and assaulted me!” She pointed her finger theatrically. “They threatened me, officer! Me! The first lady!”
"Madam, please." Roger takes Audrey by the shoulders and the woman makes an expression of disgust at the gesture. “Let's calm down. This confusion is attracting a much bigger audience than before.”
Only then does Audrey seem to notice that not only did Dupont's students watch (and film), but pedestrians passing by stopped to watch the confusion.
A TVi car getting closer and closer to guarantee the gossip of the day.
"Great! So, everyone learns about the sordid behavior that this school promotes towards students and how it corrupted my daughter!”
“Audrey Bourgeois-“ Marinette takes a step forward, looking at the woman and shaking her head. "Sorry! I meant Audrey Bisset.” She winks conspiratorially with the stylist's offended expression. "Here are your options."
She holds up a finger to signal "1" and begins, a soft voice.
"The first option is for you to leave now, without making another scene and we will not report you to these kind officers here."
The middle finger raises following the index finger. The "2".
"The second is that you continue and we are obliged to report you."
The ring finger raises to "3".
"Or I can just release very intimate files of yours on the internet and in the press, if you insist." Marinette lowers her arm and crosses the two behind her back, in a timid gesture. “Look, I knew you had some skeletons in the closet, but wow! What we found is enough to buy the entire IKEA and there is still no closet to store the bones.”
Roger, despite not appearing to like what Marinette was talking about, was curious about what she knew.
He was never a fan of Audrey Bourgeois for the way the woman treated her husband and daughter. Roger hated it every time Sabrina came home crying because Chloe had been particularly mean to her due to Audrey's influence.
The woman forced herself to be as unpleasant as possible and did not seem to have a drop of love in her heart.
Just greed and status.
“What.” Audrey babbles.
"Evan Halle." Kagami throws the name in the air, relaxed.
Audrey gets two shades paler. "How do you-"
"Laurence Green." Adrien continues.
The woman's skin changes to a greenish tone.
"Alright! I'm leaving!" She screams. "But you have to promise that the press will not know those names!"
"Deal!" Marinette waves happily. A sweet, very sweet smile, on the lips.
Audrey puts the sunglasses back on her face, composing herself. She pretends not to notice the press filming everything live for viewers at home and turns to get into the limo.
"Odette Han." Dick finally speaks and with that Audrey seems ready to run at any moment. “This is part of some of the names listed in the files. You will have to accompany us to the police station.”
He steps in front of her, preventing Audrey from trying to escape. Roger followed his movement and took the stylist by the arm.
“It will be good if you collaborate with us. Otherwise, we will be forced to handcuff you in front of everyone.” He says when Audrey tries to break free.
She looks at Marinette, anger in her expression and her eyes are wet with humiliation.
"You said you wouldn't let anyone know!" She rages at Marinette, losing her composure for the first time.
She struggles in Roger's grip, wanting to move forward on Marinette, but the man has an iron grip on the woman's arm and she stops.
Damian smirks. A dangerous look.
"She said she wouldn't release it in the press or on the internet." He answers. "And I believe that she is fulfilling the agreement, since the police are not part of the press."
Dick takes the opportunity to put the handcuffs on Audrey's wrists. “And she won't be the one to tell the press. It will be me.”
When Audrey starts struggling again trying to break free, Roger drags her into the police car. Leaving Dick with the teenagers.
“Thank you so much for your help, Richard. She wouldn't give up on Chloe if you hadn't arrived.” Marinette sighs a smile.
Dick raises an eyebrow, seeming not at all convinced by the false sincerity in the girl's words. He knew she could be quite manipulative when needed.
"You're welcome." He answers. “We were lucky to have obtained these files before she arrived in Paris. Chloe will be safe now.”
Kagami snorts. "What are you talking about? Chloe was always safe. Audrey only touched her because that was the plan.”
"Yes! And everything came out the way we planned!” Adrien claps the hands, a huge smile on his face.
"The slap was much stronger than imagined, but it gave the effect we wanted." Damian nods sharply. "The anger I felt when I saw the mark was genuine."
Dick's eyes widen in surprise.
"Wait, did you know this was going to happen?"
“Duh. Of course." Marinette replies. “Appearing at school all together and happy. We knew there would be gossip, especially nasty gossip from our class.” She rolls her eyes. "So, we took advantage of that knowing that Lila wouldn't be quiet and we let her get closer to Gabriel."
“But how were you sure he was going to talk to Audrey? I thought they didn't get along.”
"Because Gabriel likes to be in control." Kagami speaks. “He doesn't like to be told. Especially if the people giving the order are children.”
“My father wants to isolate me. If I lose all my friends, he will be able to regain control over me as before.”
"So, Gabriel, thinking that Audrey would take Chloe away from us, warns the woman about an "orgy" involving only daughter she has and she comes running to save her." Damian continues.
“But you didn't need evidence of the crimes she committed to get her away from Chloe. She had no right, so she would be arrested even if you didn't do anything.” Dick crosses his arms. "So why all this staging?"
Marinette smiles, a dark mood shining in the blueberry eyes.
"Because that way we send a message to everyone, especially Gabriel."
"And what message would that be?" Dick questions.
"Never mess with the Pack."
The “otherwise” was left unsaid, but the meaning was clear.
EXTRA 1:
"I didn't know you could be such a good actress, Apis." Kim praises Chloe, eyes glued to the news channel.
The girl snorts. "I am good at everything."
Max jumps on the couch, turning up the sound of the TV when a footage (probably from a cell phone, if judged by the image quality), particularly good of Chloe's marked face, appeared on the screen.
"Fuck." He swears in wonder. "It looks a lot worse on TV."
Luka sits next to the three and places the ice pack gently on Chloe's face, who moans gratefully.
That hurt like hell.
"I didn't think Audrey would be that strong." Luka comments. "Your face will be swollen for a few days, Apis."
"All for the greater good." She sighs.
They would have no more to worry about for a while.
EXTRA 2:
"What the hell was this all about?" Ivan grumbles.
“Why was Chloe's mother arrested? Anybody know?" Rose asks.
Alix swallows a sigh when she sees Nadja Chamack announce that Audrey Bisset has been arrested for promoting slave labor in her clothing line, bribery and blackmail.
"Guys, come see this!" She calls.
They were all gathered on Juleka's boat (thinking that Chloe had gone there with Luka) wanting to know what it was all about in front of the school.
"Damn it. The mayor's wife is hardcore." Nino whistles in surprise.
"It looks like they're not together anymore." Alya says. Eyes glued to the cell phone. “The mayor filed for divorce five months ago and took custody of Chloe. It looked like she wanted to take Chloe to New York without his permission and then the police were called.”
"But how did he know that?" Nathaniel asks. "That she was trying to get Chloe out of Paris?"
"Hm... It says here that 'friends concerned about the physical and emotional integrity of the mayor's daughter, called the police and made the report'." Juleka reads aloud.
"They?" Sabrina asks.
"They." Alya waves.
Lila couldn't help thinking that Marinette's group was unpleasantly scary. They didn't seem to take any effort to break down the obstacles on the way.
She feared for when her time came.
Because she was not stupid.
Her time was coming.
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[tag list]
@northernbluetongue​ @gimme-more-caffeine @kris-pines04​ @drarryismylife101​ @puzzlelover431​ @18-fandoms-unite-08​ @krispydefendorpolice​ @asheanomhominem​  @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @cutechip​ @just-an-avarage-nerds-blog​ @lirulua​ @j-a-n-e-d-o-e @naclychilli​ @the-blindwatcher​ @xxmdsxx​ @emootaku-666​ @nicknnie​​ @multplelifes​​ @slytherinhquinn​​ @caffeinetheory​​ @clumsy-owl-4178​​ @k-poplunardreams​​ @moonystars14​​ @damianette-is-life​​ @
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uglierdaikon · 3 years
Text
I’ve had this one WIP sitting in my documents forever, and as hard as I’ve tried I absolutely cannot think of a direction to take it in but I really like what I have written, so I’ve decided to say “fuck it” and just post what I’ve got in here and let y’all imagine whatever ending for it you’d like. Without further ado, I present my long-deceased Witch!Nene x Demon!Hanako au:
            Nene, my love. Whatever happens do not forget that you are special. You were born special. You will help so many people.
             Nene couldn’t remember her mother very well. She had been so young when she died. In the furthest, foggiest corners of her mind, she could recall the long gray skirt that she clung to and hid behind when the other townspeople jeered at her. There was silvery hair like hers, and surely a face that would resemble hers. She remembered a voice that sang, a voice that stood up for her, a voice that told her, you are special. You will help so many people.
              And so she did. Although people were still unkind, still jeered at her, still called her an unnatural thing, she helped them. Some learned to be kind, and those were the ones who made it feel worth it. The others… well, the others couldn’t help that they found her strange. She was strange. Witches weren’t supposed to be born—they were made, by sealing deals with demons. And yet, she’d had magic from infancy. This marked her as an oddity, and people were afraid of things they didn’t understand. The rumors that swirled around the village about her certainly didn’t help. But Nene didn’t mind. Or, at least, she told herself she didn’t mind.
              There was work to be done. A farmer wanted a spell to help his cow get pregnant; the blacksmith wanted his tools bewitched to feel lighter to ease the strain on his aging back; a merchant from a nearby town had written her asking for a cure for his wife’s morning sickness. Morning sickness was simple enough—if you knew your plants well enough, you didn’t even need magic. She’d start with that.
              Nene set out her pestle and mortar on her worktable, then went to her cabinet for ingredients, whispering them to herself as she searched.
              “Cinnamon, dragon’s blood, rose petals… ginger.” She stopped short, carefully tucking jars of the other three ingredients in the crook of her left arm. “Have I used up all my ginger?” She shifted jars and vials and other magical odds and ends around her shelves, but there was no ginger hidden amongst them. She swore softly, set the other ingredients down on the table, and grabbed her cloak. She’d have to run out to her garden.
              She stepped out her back door and into the cool night. It had been unseasonably warm as of late, but now a chill wind nipped at her nose. Still, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of damp earth and autumn rot. The woods around her house seemed to thrum with gentle sounds, crickets and owls and the wind shuffling through the leaves. Nene smiled to herself, then hurried off to her garden. She knew it well enough that the dark was no impediment to her finding her ginger. She knelt carefully between other rows of plants and tugged up what she needed and a little extra, for next time.
              As she stood and began to brush dirt from her dress, Nene heard a rustling that did not belong to the thrum of her woods. It was a disruption, a discordant note. She heard a twig snap not far off and nearly dropped her ginger. Her immediate thought was that she should run—people may have been coming to accept her, but she wasn’t naïve enough to believe there was no one in the village who would do her harm. She should run, but her legs wouldn’t move except to tremble.
              “H-hello!” she called cautiously. Perhaps it was just someone lost. Or maybe it was only an animal, and she was being paranoid because some foul-tempered old woman had told her she was going to hell the day before. “Is anyone out there?”
              There was a pause, and then the rustling and crunching of leaves and earth continued, louder and closer. Nene frantically tried to think of a spell—something to freeze them, or confuse them. But when a shape finally moved in the darkness, all she could do was shriek, “Don’t hurt me!” and squeeze her eyes shut.
              Silence. No rustling, no movement. No attempt to seize her, or worse. Nene peeked an eye open, then the other. There was… nothing.
              “Meeeooow.”
              Nene jumped, then laughed. At the edge of the woods, mere feet from her garden, was a small black cat with golden eyes.
              “Well, hello there,” she said, crouching down and holding her hand out to it. “You sure gave me a fright, didn’t you? Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.” The cat peered at her curiously, then took slow, cautious steps forward. When Nene reached to scratch it behind the ears, it flinched away. “I suppose people aren’t very kind to you, hm? Black cats are supposed to be a curse, you know. But I’m supposed to be cursed, too, and the only sign I see of it is in my love life. So I’m not afraid of curses.” The cat stepped toward her again. It seemed to her to be trying to communicate something with its eyes, some need or question. “Are you hungry little fella? I’ve got some catnip growing here.” The cat circled behind her, and in her squatted position it was awkward to turn to try to face it.
              “You shouldn’t feed strays. We’ll just keep coming back.” The voice came from directly behind her. Male. Dark. Amused, like he was laughing at her. Nene stumbled forward, whipping around to look at him once she was somewhat upright again. Where the cat should have been, there was a man dressed in fine black clothing, with choppy black hair and golden eyes. He was smiling at her, and the smile was not kind.
              “You—you—how, I—”
              His smile widened.
              “Hello there, little witch,” he said. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” He looked her over like an animal eyeing its dinner. Nene pulled her cloak tighter around herself.
              “Wh-who are you? What do you want?” she managed to stammer. She tried to think of a spell, something to confuse him, or send him away. She didn’t have it in her to hurt someone, but she couldn’t expect the same of him. They were alone here by the woods, a long way from any neighbors that might care enough to help her.
              The man’s smile quickly morphed into a pout, and his eyebrows knit together. He stepped closer and leaned forward to peer at her. Nene made an odd squeaking sound and stepped back.
              “You haven’t been expecting me?” he asked. Before Nene could say anything, or think further about what to do, he reached out and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Hm. You really don’t know who I am.”
              “Y-yes, that would be why I asked,” she said, jerking her head to break free of his grip. He tapped his chin thoughtfully and began to circle her. “You do know what I am though, don’t you?”
              She didn’t. She had been too shocked, too frightened to see him as anything but some frightening man in her garden, possibly a warlock. But now that he asked, she didn’t know how she hadn’t sensed it, the power radiating off of him. The magic.
              “You’re a demon,” she said, her voice very audible. There was nothing she could do. No defense. What was her magic against a creature like him?
              The man gave her a small nod.
              “Tell me then, little witch,” he said. “How did you get your powers?”
              “I was born with them,” she said. Her voice was stronger—she’d had enough of that line of questioning over the years. He smiled at her, and she managed the courage to hold his gaze. She hoped he couldn’t tell that under her dress, her knees were shaking.
              “Were you now?” he said. “Oh, I do think I like you.”
              As he passed again on her left, he ghosted a hand through her long hair, watching as it faded from silver to green between his fingertips. The look in his eyes had changed into something less playful, just for a moment, and it did funny things to Nene’s already racing heart. Finally, he came to a stop in front of her again. The too-wide smile had reappeared.
              “I have a proposal for you,” he said. “I came tonight to claim something, but I can think of a much more entertaining game. How about a wager? What I want against what you want.”
              Nene narrowed her eyes.
              “What do you know about what I want?” she asked. His eyes narrowed slightly, but they still held their humor.
              “Oh, I can make some guesses,” he said. “I wager that in a week’s time, I will be able to tempt you into agreeing to… something. If I fail, I’ll be on my way, and I’ll never haunt your doorstep again. If I win, well. You’ll have agreed to my terms anyways.”
              “I don’t want any part in your wager,” she said. She tried to sound firm. Being firm with people who meant to manipulate her usually worked—it was a strategy a boy in town named Kou had taught her many years before.
              He shrugged.
              “Then I’ll just take what I came for and go,” he said, advancing toward her. Nene quickly scrambled back.
              “No!” she cried. She couldn’t imagine what horrible thing a demon could want to demand from her. “…Just a week? And once you fail, you’ll go.”
              He chuckled.
              “At once,” he said. “If I fail.”
              Nene scraped together the last of her courage and nodded. He would leave. She would lose nothing to him, face no harm whatsoever, as long as she simply said no to anything he might offer her. He would be gone.
              “Then it’s a deal.”
              His smile grew wider. Before she could react, he had wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest.
              “Do you know how demons usually seal their deals, little witch?” he asked, putting a hand under her chin to tilt her face up towards him. His gold eyes were hooded, locked onto her lips. Nene couldn’t form words, couldn’t form thoughts, as he slowly leaned in and—
              “No!” she cried, turning her face away. He stopped short. When she dared to peek at him, she saw his eyes were wide, like she’d startled him. That was a thought. Her, startling a demon. Then he laughed, and let go of her waist.
              “If you insist,” he said. He took her face in two large hands, tilted it slightly downward, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s sealed. We’ll begin tomorrow.” Before her eyes, he began to fade into nothingness. “Good luck, Miss Yashiro.”
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finiteuniverse13 · 3 years
Text
Bravo's Banned List
With the help of @bravo-four-seal-team, @@jayhalsteadfan-2417 and @rebelwrites, we made a list.
A list, posted on various walls throughout the Naval base, the plane and the cage room. About 1/3 of it is typed up, the rest is in hastily written pen. Made by Blackburn to try and corral Bravo. It's doing its best.
Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417
Just so you're all aware, this is a 6.5-page document.
0: On the days of Adam and Swanny’s Death, leave the group be to remember them. I will not protect you.
1: Brock Is Not Allowed Coffee. No exceptions.
1.1: Do not leave Metal alone with Brock when Coffee is around.
2: Dick jokes are not required in briefings
3: If a single one of you bastards get between me and my coffee, we will be having issues
5: You made the dog sad; you die.
8: DO NOT GIVE THEM NERF GUNS
9: WHO THE HELL GAVE THEM WATER GUNS
9.1: STICKS DO NOT GIVE THEM STICKS THEY WILL PRETEND THEY ARE GUNS
10: Dirt bikes (don’t ask)
11: ARCHERY IS A BIG NO
12: FISHING. WHY AM I BANNING FISHING
13: Fire. That is all
14: KNIVES. WHY ARE YOU GIVING THEM KNIVES?
15: LADDERS (NEVER AGAIN)
16: PLASTIC CUTLERY ONLY UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES GIVE THEM METAL CUTLERY
16.1: Scratch that, they stab people with the metal cutlery. Let them suffer the consequences of their actions. They can eat with their hands.
17: MEMES ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE MEETING ROOM
18: Horse riding. (METAL IT IS NOT A TACTICAL DISMOUNT ITS CALLED FALLING AND GETTING A CONCUSSION)
19: BOY BANDS (not allowed to be played on the plane)
19.1: GIRL BANDS (for the love of god, they will try and imitate them)
19.2 RAP MUSIC (they think they are the next Eminem and will make your ears bleed)
20: Do not tell Jason he is not allowed to do something. He finds a way to do it
20.1: Apparently Ray will do the exact same without question
21: Do not leave any members of the team with upper brass. (How did you make an Admiral with years of combat CRY!)
22: Clay is under Jason’s protection don’t go after him they will not find your body
22.1: If Clay calls Jason dad just leave it ok
22.2: Actually, check on Jason, he’s been standing staring for the past hour now
23: Hairdryers are banned (HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET YOUR BEARD CAUGHT SONNY)
24: Only Trent is allowed to call Metal by his legal first name. Ensign Williams learnt that one the hard way.
25: Paintball is banned from the base the last time it was extreme and got violent
26: The transformers movies because clay tried to do a stunt it ended badly
27: Thumbtacks apparently
28: Any Marvel movie (Jason you’re not Captain America)
28.1: DC movies are out as well
28.2: Disney Princess movies as well (don’t ask)
30: Do not leave phone unlocked around Sonny, he will not hesitate to change everything
36: DO NOT LET THEM GET SO DRUNK THEY START SINGING. IF I HEAR IN THE NAVY ONE MORE TIME, I WON'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS
37: IF THERE IS SILENCE DROP EVERYTHING AND START HUNTING AND PANICKING
38: Grenade launchers are not required for every mission Trent
39: WHO GAVE METAL A SWORD
42: Yes, Clay does know an Admiral by name. Don't ask questions you don't want answers to.
45: If Clay starts angrily ranting in a foreign language, don't worry. He's thinking out loud, not plotting to destroy the base
45.1: If Clay is calmly talking in a foreign language just back away slowly
48: SpongeBob is a Bad Idea because they are way too Annoying and make References (I’m looking at you, Clay)
52: Sharpies. When I find whoever gave me this sharpie tattoo sleeve, there will be hell to pay
56: DO NOT LET CLAY HAVE A GRIMM REAPER OUTFIT! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME HES NEARLY GIVEN SONNY AND TRENT A HEART ATTACK AT 3 AM
57: Red paint. I went to check something at 3 am and Clay was painting a satanic ritual on the floor
58: 3 am checks are a bad idea. (I have seen things, people!)
62: Explosives are to be locked away when not on mission Sonny and Clay will try and play catch with a live homewrecker
62.1: I expected Metal as a Master Chief to know better - he falls under the same rule as Clay and Sonny.
63: Don't wake Clay when he is sleeping back away slowly and leave the room
64: If I'm sleeping, back away and leave the room. Interrupt me if they've broken a rule, or if the base is actively being bombed. If not, I don't care.
65: Have multiple phone chargers or they will disappear and you’re not getting them back
68: If you call Clay anything other than a nickname expect to get punched or stabbed or sniped in the ass when least expected
68.1: Metal will stab you. Please remember he has a shovel and lye in his truck (WHY DO YOU HAVE IT)
68.2: Don't try to take the shovel and lye off of Metal
69: NEVER say the number 69 around them they are all immature children and expect tongue in cheek comments
70: NEVER interrupt Sonny when he is eating breakfast, he is grumpy in the morning
72: If they are all asleep make no sound - YOU WAKE THEM THEY ARE YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE
73: For the love of god, stop giving Clay earth mineral nicknames. This is the third time this week I've watched Sonny empty limestone dust from his pack
75: Do not give them hammers! What is wrong with you people?
79: Do Not talk to Trent unless it’s after 2 coffees
83: For the love of god, don't ask Metal if he ever did nude modelling in art school. He will begin stripping, literally anywhere
91: Cerberus is a good boy and you hurt Brock you die
98: Super Glue (never again)
99: MY COFFEE IS OFF LIMITS WHOEVER PUT SALT IN IT WILL PAY
100: Do not give in to their peer pressure while they are drunk, I will not be doing it again
100.1: WHY AM I HEARING IN THE NAVY AGAIN?!
100.2: Sweet Caroline won't work twice
100.3: WHY ARE YOU SINGING BARBIE
100.4: SONNY, CLAY IS NOT A BARBIE GIRL
103: Don't tell Sonny he looks good in pink because you better believe he will keep wearing it (and probably some girl clothes too) to keep getting compliments
114: I ALREADY WROTE SUPER GLUE WHY DO I NEED TO WRITE IT AGAIN
115: HAIR DYE (Why did you dye Metal and Trent’s hair pink?!)
115.1: Face paint (Sonny, their faces did not need to match their hair)
116: Do NOT touch Clay, Charlie team learnt that, and someone ended up nearly losing a finger. (And it wasn’t because of the dog)
117: If they offer you a drink whilst smirking DO NOT take it
118: Sea shanties – if I hear one more SEA SHANTY while we are FLYING
119: If you hear someone shout incoming, run, it’s not an attack, it is Bravo, someone has done something and they’re coming to tell me
120: Vegemite is not allowed in the base after Jason let Clay eat it
121: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (JASON I DONT CARE IF YOU THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY TO ACT LIKE LEO IT WAS A BAD MOVE)
122: Hawaii 5-0, if I hear one more thing about how we should hang people of the rook of buildings I am going to shoot someone
124: Mortal Kombat (Clay was acting like Scorpion for a month)
130: Itching Powder (looking at you Brock)
131: DO NOT TOUCH JASONS TOMATOES - you will get a bamboo cane jammed into your thigh
134: Capes - YOU ARE NOT SUPERMAN CLAY STOP PRETENDING YOU CAN FLY BY JUMPING OFF THE HOOCHES
134.1: Edna Mode said NO CAPES - I EXPECT NO CAPES WORN BY ANYONE ON MY TEAM
138: Laser Tag is fun until someone gets hurt (Sonny and Clay you know what happened)
138.1: Laser Tag! (Ray needed to go to the hospital guys, come on)
143: Basketball. My nose will never be straight again.
144: Bravo and Ice skates don’t mix (the only person good on them is Jason but no other member of Bravo is allowed on the ice again)
144.1: Same goes for rollerblades
145: Ash Spencer is not allowed to be alone with Clay (Jason punched him last time he was on base)
145.1: Do not leave Jason, Metal or Sonny alone with Ash Spenser, it’s going to end up with a murder charge.
146: Clay is Jason’s adopted kid and needs to be supervised when Jason is away
151: SLIME - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT GIVE THEM SLIME
152: GLITTER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE
153: SCISSORS - Jase cut a chunk of Clay’s hair in the night now the base is a war zone
153.1: DONT FUCK WITH COVERBOY'S HAIR see point 68 for consequences
154: NAIR (why do you even have it?)
156: Call Of Duty (Clay must be supervised when playing it)
157: Do Not leave Clay unattended with Metal (They are both recovering from the ONE CHIP/DEATH CHIP Challenge)
158: Marshmallows (don’t ask)
163: The Hunger Games (are not a good training exercise)
164: The Olympus Has Fallen movies are not allowed to be mentioned in any given time)
173: If you mention the word ice-cream just run, run for your life
176: If I am sleeping STOP THROWING PAPER AT ME
177: Yelling FOR NARNIA is not an appropriate battle cry
178: The Fast And Furious movies (Clay you are not Brian so stop)
182: Nap time is important if their asleep do something else but if you wake them run like hell
190: Any movies about WAR are BANNED (I need a drink to talk about that one)
200 (From Bravo): Blackburn isn't allowed any more paper
200.1 (From Bravo): or pens
200.2: (Blackburn) Handcuffs. They handcuffed me to my desk and wrote that
200.3 (Blackburn): Bravo will not be allowed to tell their Commanding Officer what to do
202: Who keeps giving them superglue? This is the 8th time we are having to unglue Sonny and Clay’s hands
203: Do not let any of them take point on Briefing EVER
205: Are you serious? Paperclips! Do not give them PAPERCLIPS
206: Leaving anyone unattended with fire is a bad idea - I can still smell burning
210: This is Sparta (Jason don't kick people off the roof)
210.1: JASON I SAID NO KICKING PEOPLE YOU DONT LIKE OFF THE ROOF
213: Ash Spenser is not allowed on base. DEVGRU heard about what kind of dad he is, and now its kill-on-sight
213.1: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT ASH BEING ON BASE
214: Puppy dog eyes because Clay has been using them on anyone to get out of doing paperwork
215: RAY STOP DOING JASONS PAPERWORK
216: GO TO A HOSPITAL IF INJURED, TRENT HAS A LIFE OUTSIDE OF YOU LOT
217: THE GLEE CAST SOUNDTRACK IS NOT TO BE USED ON THE BASE
218: DO NOT PUT LION KING ON - they will cry like babies and there’s no consoling them over Mufasa
220: If I have to explain why BRAVO will not be joining teaching GREEN TEAM please see rule 1 and understand from that then ask the Green Team Instructor. (Brock terrified them by running the O Course in 30 minutes, all because someone gave him coffee)
220.1: And yes, that is the on the 50-minute-record O course. The time hasn’t been counted since it involved performance-enhancing substances
221: WHO THE HELL INTRODUCED THEM TO FROZEN
221.1 NO I DONT WANT TO BUILD A BLOODY SNOWMAN
221.2: WE WERE DEPLOYED TO SERBIA YOU BASTARDS
222: Gray’s anatomy (That is all)
227: VAPES - YOU DONT SMOKE AND ARE NOT PUFF THE MAGIC FUCKING DRAGON (clay I’m looking at you)
228: HATS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN BRIEFINGS (Sonny you know what you did)
229: MAGIC MIKE AND MAGIC MIKE XXL (still haunts my dreams)
233: I am begging you can you please BE NICE TO THE FLEET ADMIRAL (it's the 3rd time he's left in tears)
234: Chocolate - just run ok
235: Please stop re-enacting the screen from titanic when we are on a boat (I’m looking at you Brock)
235: PIZZA NIGHT IS A FREE FOR ALL AND IF YOU DONT WANT A BROKEN NOSE JUST BACK AWAY
236: Jokes. JOKES ARE BANNED - IF I NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY I WON'T BE HAPPY – NO ITS NOT FINE TO JOKE ABOUT THE FACT YOU HAVE BEEN STABBED CLAY
236.1: STAB WOUNDS ARE NOT ADDITIONAL POCKETS
237: Monopoly got violent last time and Jason got punched
237.1: In fact, any board games turn violent even snakes and ladders
237.2: Board games. Just please stop playing board games
240: Why am I revisiting the nerf guns people? IT WAS A FAMILY BARBECUE! (You lot need to learn to let your kids win!)
241: Brock is banned from Cooking - I do not want food poisoning again
244: WE DO NOT NEED A FLASH MOB EVERY TIME DONT STOP MOVING BY SCLUB 7 COMES ON
246: If they pass out around the fire pit for the love of god move them Clay and Sonny tend to like melting the sole of their boots on the flames even when passed out
251: Plastic cups only (this rule is to stop sonny from smashing them)
254: Why am I needing to revisit Sharpies? They aren’t allowed them, give them Crayola's or crayons
254.1: Scrap that YOU CAN’T EAT THE CRAYONS
256: Clay you are not Spiderman get off the walls
257: WHO GAVE COFFEE TO BROCK!!
257.1: THIS IS RULE ONE ON THE LIST WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU
258: Don't mention Hawaii five 0 just don't
258.1: They will attempt the intro to it, it’s just painful
259: Don't mention Harry Potter because they will all cry over different characters deaths
287: Soup is now banned (Ray. I honestly thought you were the normal one of the team. I am disappointed)
321: If you see Clay and Sonny cuddling just walk away, pretend you didn’t see anything, one of them had a bad day and the other is the only one they will confine in
322: Don't mention the Philippines or India just don't
330: If Metal and Trent are talking, just leave them be. (No one wants to know if Metal is yelling about something stupid Trent did)
331: Popcorn is not allowed on base it ended up in everyone's gear
342: Non-Aerosol Deodorant. (Two of them tried to eat it before realising it wasn't edible)
344: Aerosol Deodorant. (Metal and Sonny used it with lighters. to create a flamethrower)
344.1: Side note LIGHTERS ARE BAD
345: Headphones. DO NOT ASK
346: Rubber bands are not slingshots
FINAL NOTE: FROM BRAVO - BLACKBURN LOVES US REALLY PLEASE IGNORE THE ABOVE LIST ITS ALL LIES
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harmoni-me · 3 years
Note
a poly komahinanami + reader request comin' through!: teaching crush reader emotions and how they work, how to interact with people, also stuff like romance, friendships, and having a real family.
thank you! don’t forget to stay hydrated!💙
My oh my, guess who’s back!? And with the longest story I’ve ever written just for you at that! This totaled up to be 17 pages on a Google Docs document, which is absolutely crazy by the way, but I just couldn’t stop writing this! But it’s now done, so I hope you enjoy!
Nagito Komaeda x Hajime Hinata x Chiaki Nanami x Reader Who Wants to Rediscover Emotions!
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“Ugh...so not even that, huh…” Chiaki crashed onto a nearby sofa, slamming her face into a plush pillow, catching herself with a comfortable squish. You had just been shown one of those guilt-trip puppy adoption videos to try and kick-start your tear ducts, but it just honestly didn’t work. Though you desperately wanted the tears to flow, or at least have your eyes a little misty, nothing ever came. You couldn’t help it, but you were willing to do anything in order to feel, and know about everything that has to do with fruitful human emotion.
Just a mere few weeks before this moment, you were left with no one, going to a school for the talented and the elite. You did some research about social gestures, wanting to know what to do if someone wanted to talk to you. 
Well, apparently you did something okay, because now you were sitting here with three people who are bumbling around, trying to figure out your emotional and social problems. It was most likely luck that you met these three that wanted to help you out of your own ditch, but you definitely weren't complaining. Not one bit.
You had people by your side, and you felt something warm bloom in your stomach when you realized as such. It was nice, like when you let the sun soak up into the pores of your skin on some sandy shores.    
“Well, It’s not really their fault, you know? They were raised to be the Ultimate Perfectionist, their family must have done some terrible things in order for them to get this way...those bastards…” Hajime sat up against a wall, weaving his fingers into his hazelnut hair.
“Even though you’re simply reserve-course leftovers...you’re not wrong, Hajime. (Y/n) is in quite a predicament, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito laid cross-legged next to Hajime. Hajime just simply rolled his eyes at the white-haired boy's remark about his useless school status.
“Just a theory, but does talent honestly determine status? Wouldn’t it be like comparing someone’s grade’s to their natural IQ? Someone could simply just work harder, Nagito, and it’s that simple, most likely, to get on an Ultimate’s level.” You looked at Nagito, causing him to stiffen just a bit. 
…uh
Was it something you said? 
“Ah, (Y/n), your glaring. Practice softening your eyes a little bit. Giving off a serious look can make people uncomfortable sometimes.” Chiaki pointed out, gesturing to her own eyes, switching between a glare, and back to normal again, as if giving you a quick tutorial.
“Ah, um, sorry about that. I had no such intentions, so please forgive me, Nagito.” You bowed your head in forgiveness, already knowing what that gesture ment from social experience. Nagito just shook his head, causing his hair to sway along rhythmically, chuckling a little while doing so.
“No worries, please scold me whenever you please. I enjoy it.” Nagito let out a beaming laugh, shoulders bouncing at his own comment.
Hajime just clipped his thumb and index finger onto the upper-bridge of his nose, shaking his head to Nagito’s comment. Though, he could never stay mad at him for long… even with all of the degradation talk.
“Ok then, we need to get back to the situation at hand, because I have an idea!” Chiaki spoke out, making everyone in the room turn their head, ready to hear her out. The girl then picked herself up from the couch to stand tall among all of the sitting frames in the room.
“This situation is exactly like finally getting that shiny Pokemon you’ve always wanted, but it’s only level one. So you’ve got to go back and make it fight the smaller guys in order for it to start beating up the bosses.” Chiaki explained. Hajime nodded, apparently understanding exactly what she was talking about. Nagito was just sitting there, a clueless smile painted onto his face, listening with full intention of agreeing anyway.
You...you think you got the gist...but what the hell is a Pokemon?
“(Y/n) is our precious shiny Pokemon, and we need to take them out to experience all of the experiences, in order to gain all of the experience!” Chiaki finally proclaimed, confidently puffing out her chest in pride. Nagito just chuckled, while clapping at Chiaki’s idea, praising her. Hajime tilted his head a bit, seeming to want to know the stickler details.
“So, what’s the best way to go about this?” Hajime stood up from his seated position on the floor, stretching out his arms, sounding out a couple of pops from his tense muscles. Chiaki went silent for a moment, but then quickly jumped up with an idea.
“We divide it into levels, and create our own scenarios to fit within what we want to focus on in each level. For example, level one can be about trying to trigger certain emotions, like happiness. (Y/n) will pass the level when she completes the task provided. This will keep her motivated, and we’ll all have fun! I think.” Chiaki proposed, walking over to your listening form. You were confused, but you were also willing to try anything for you to feel like everyone else.
“So, (Y/n), are you ok with this?” The pale pink haired girl crouched down to your level, head turning, waiting for your approval.
“I’ll do anything to feel again. Of course I’ll do it.” You blatantly said, raising your tone to puppet a sort of happy emotion, though this time, it didn’t really feel as forced as it usually was, which made your heart jump in surprise. Your heart hopping domino-affected to your eyes widening in shock, as well as a jerk of fear in your body. You didn’t really know what you felt, but you wanted to figure it out more than anything in the world at the moment.
“Perfect! So, ah, what do the arcade machines say again...oh! Level 1, Start! Or maybe I’m wrong…” Nagito, stood, looking in your direction, as if signaling to you that everything was going to go great.
LEVEL 1: EMOTION TRIGGERS
You were sitting in a chair, while being surrounded by the three friends of yours. It was kind of how it went just a few minutes ago, with each person trying to show you something that might trigger something in you, but this seemed like it was going to be just a bit more...difficult.
“Well, what we’ve got planned is in order for you to go onto the next level, you need to achieve the following three emotional responses: Happiness, Repugnance, and Sadness. We’ll help you out on trying to trigger them, so don’t worry about it too much, alright?” Chiaki lightly said. You always enjoyed her voice, as well as her understanding personality. It was probably those character traits of hers that caused her to be your friend, most likely.
“Ah, well repugnance should be easy since I’m here, after all! Poor (Y/n) here would probably hurl after staring at scum like me for too long!” Nagito said with a smile dancing on his face, stepping into your vision, standing there for you to scan your eyes upon him. Hajime and Chiaki didn’t really object, but just wanted to see what would happen out of their own curiosity.
You observed him from your seat, as he said to do. The longer you looked at him, the more he just looked even more pretty than you thought he looked in the first place. His body was abnormally slim, making you wonder if he gets a proper amount of nutrition. You also noticed upon observing his features that his face fits perfectly within the four-division rule, which basically proves his face to be perfectly symmetrical. You also got a warm, sort of bubbly feeling when you looked into his eyes. It almost seemed as if they glowed a light, neon green. It was so enchanting...so-
“Pretty.” You said deadenly aloud, making everyone in the room so completely wide-eyed at your words, er, word. It was a surprise to them, to say the least.
“Uh...huh?” Nagito sounded, the tips of his ears darkening in a slight blush, not really knowing what to say.
“Oh, apologies. I was just thinking about your pretty eyes. Oh, yes, sorry. I think your eyes are very nice. Also, did you know that your face fits perfectly into the four-division rule, which is very hard to find naturally. I think modeling agencies would really like your face, though you look underweight...do you eat on a regular basis? If not, I can recommend some meals that are high in protein and low in fat in order for you to gain a healthy amount of weight and-” You rambled about your findings about the man in front of you, causing the darkening hue to spread from Nagito’s ears to his cheeks. A snort of laughter could be heard from Hajime, while Chiaki snickered into her arm, trying to conceal the noise.
“Ah...ahahah..uh, HAJIME, YOU MENTIONED AN IDEA JUST A BIT AGO! WOULD YOU MIND PUTTING IT INTO ACTION FOR US PLEASE!?” Nagito blurted out unexpectedly, making his way over to the “sideline” where the two others resided.
“I don’t remember making any idea, Nag-” Hajime said, just wanting to tease the lucky boy around some more.
“SH-SHUT UP! JUST DO SOMETHING!” Nagito slapped Hajime’s shoulder in embarrassment, causing Hajime to laugh at his successful teasing attempt.
“Okay, okay, I did have one idea I wanted to try. Though, I might need (Y/n) to take off their school sweater. Just for a moment. You can put it back on if you’re uncomfortable without it.” Hajime walked over to your seat, and steadily waited for the removal of your sweater vest.
“Oh, I honestly don’t mind. I trust you, Hajime.” You simply stated, carefully slipping the school sweater vest off of your form, and lazily plopping it down on the ground adjacent to you. Hajime then stepped a bit closer, fiddling with the ends of his shirt a little, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Sorry, but...d-do you mind closing your eyes?” Hajime quickly stuttered out. You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut in obedience.
You felt Hajime’s presence close in on you. Closer and closer his presence got, making you go just a tad ridged, until you felt something.
It was as if feathers started to dance on the dips of your hips, causing you to squirm from the feeling. You weren't sure what was happening at first, but the more the feeling continued, the more you felt as if a gigglish sound was about to burst from your lips.
“Uh, I’m close, but I need more hands. Can someone- Ah, thanks Chiaki…”
It was when the other pair of hands started to skip across your skin that your lungs exploded. A loud, joyous laughter rang through the room, raspy and unused. The hands just kept on going, making your laughing increase even more, to the point where tears pricked at the edges of your eyes, making you open them out of pure instinct.
It was a weird sight, but you weren't surprised; it was what made you laugh out in delight. Hajime and Chiaki were tickling your sides, making your laughter return to your emotional memory. You haven’t heard the sound of your own cries of happiness in such an incredibly long time, that you knew you didn’t recognize it from the decade or so that it had been buried and locked away deep inside you. 
But here you were, laughing with the people you charised the most in that moment.
….
The room was at a standstill. Everyone was extremely overjoyed at your new emotional upbringing of happiness. It was amazing, and almost a miracle on how much you laughed and smiled, making you seem like a totally different person. It was to be celebrated about later, but things weren't nearly finished yet. Two more emotions still needed to be freed from within you, and finding the key to giving your feelings wings was difficult at that.
“I know exactly what will make her cringe!” Chiaki shot up from her thinking position, running to her console that was stuffed into her school bag. She pulled out the glossy pink electronic, powering it on, while simultaneously walking towards you.
“I will force you to watch a sim of Teruteru take a shower and make him woohoo with a ghost, making him have a ghost baby.” Chiaki stuck the screen up to your staring eyes. It was on what seemed like a digital Teruteru in a house, who was walking into the restroom of his abode. Once you saw that the character took off his clothes to bathe, you knew the threat wasn’t a farce like you thought it would be.
You honestly didn’t feel like witnessing something so...unnecessarily eerie and gross at the same time.
“Ew...”
That was all you said, scrunching your nose, and turning your head away from the screen as fast as possible to avoid from seeing such a monstrosity take place.
“Wow, that was...surprisingly simple! Such talent from an ultimate such as yourself, Chiaki!” Nagito praised the girl who willingly soaked it up like a proud child after getting a lollipop of accomplishment from the doctors office. You giggled unconsciously, astonishing yourself from the gesture, but you smiled, knowing that things might just return to how they once were in the past sooner rather than later.
“But, uh, can you actually have a ghost baby in that game?” Nagito questioned, and rightfully so, because you were coincidentally wondering the same exact thing. Chiaki darefuly glared into Nagito’s pale irises, signaling that she was dead serious, honest to God. Wow...must be quite the odd game she must be playing…
….    
“Can’t we just...skip the sad one? We already got the other two down.” Hajime asked, not wanting to see you in a gloomy state, especially since the sight of seeing you so vulnerable might break his heart into two.
“No way, Hajime! Everyone needs to bawl their eyes out at least one time in their life, right? Despair’s tears are needed in order to live a balanced emotional life!” Nagito exclaimed, a slightly crazed look twirling within his eyes, reflecting his love for the subject at hand.
Nagito skipped over to your form, leaning close to your stature. An innocent smile was stitched onto his face, though it was quite obvious that he had completely ulterior motives. He was going to make you complete this level, no matter what he had to do.  
“Just imagine, dear (Y/n), that you were blackmailed into killing me. What would you do?” His voice vibrated deep within your consciousness. It was a strange question, but it didn’t fail to make you feel incredibly uneasy. You looked down into your lap, thinking about your answer, for your response could affect the possible outcome.
“Report the threat to the police.” You simply said, because it was the truth. Putting a situation into more capable hands was the most logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?
“Oh, but it’s blackmail, is it not? You might get killed if you do such a naive thing...let me change the question for you, just to make things easier…” Nagito’s hand drifted to lightly grasp your chin, raising it up to make stern eye contact. His nimble fingers held onto the bottom of your chin, gently squeezing your cheeks inward, puckering your lips.
“How would you kill me?” The darkness in his voice didn’t even try to be hidden, for it scared your heart into beating out of it’s chest even faster than it was before. What kind of question is that? Why would he ask something like this, and to you, especially?
“I don’t want to answer.” was the only thing you could push past your lips, which has started twitching at the thought of the question given. Nagito’s smile downcasted, the disappointment evident on his face. His grip on your face grew tighter, tighter as his nails dug a little into your delicate skin. His hold on your cheeks was like his way of wanting you to spit out every single detail of your answer, wanting to know so desperately how you would murder him. 
You never wanted to answer that question, for you would never think about it in the first place. Nagito was someone you treasured, along with Hajime and Chiaki. The thought of seeing their own blood spill made you want to hurl everything on the floor, with the burning residue of stomach acid sizzling away at your throat.
“Tell me.” Was all he said, with shivering silence following straight after.
“No.” Your voice cracked. This was viewed as a terrible situation to be in. Never in such a long time have you felt this emotionally trapped. You were clueless on what you were feeling, but you knew that you never wanted to feel it again. You wanted to drown it, hoping it dies beneath much better emotions that you’ve resurfaced. But it never went away, only increasing, taking over all of your senses.
“Nagito, I think that’s enou-”
“Shut it.” Nagito sharply turned his head to face Chiaki, who had objectified.
Who was this? Was this the Nagito you’ve always gotten to know?
“You look like the poisoning type, in all honesty. Maybe you would slip it into my drink, or maybe just force it down my throat, none of which are bad choices. Maybe you would stay to watch scum like me convulsing on the floor, vomiting blood and mucus. What a pathetic way to go, wouldn’t it? You would have to live with the burden of my soul hovering over you for the rest of your life, wishing for yourself to be dead as well...What do you think? I bet you can do better than tha-”
“N-NO! P-please stop!” You screamed out, wanting the vivid picture in your mind to burn within a hellscape, never to be seen again. Your form was hiccuping and shrugging in sobs, wanting the images to go away. Nagito was your friend, and the vision of him laying in his own liquids and-
WHAM
“What the hell are you doing, Nagito?” Hajime fist has made contact with Nagito’s face, causing the boy to stumble back from the impact, his hand detaching from your face, leaving little red marks from the indentation of Nagito’s nails grounding themselves into your cheeks.
You started to shiver and shake, your heart so full of disturbance and sadness that you honestly just felt like dying. You wanted to go back to anything, anything that could be better than this feeling, but no matter how hard you tried, everything just kept on elevating. It was like a never ending hustle of feelings reaching over the brim, spilling over while also breaking the vessel.
Chiaki rushed over to your side, hugging you with all of her gentleness and consideration, patting down your hair in the most comforting way she could. Hajime went over and did a similar gesture, holding your hand, while bringing it into himself to embrace it. You don’t really know why he did, but Hajime lightly kissed the knuckles on the top of your hand, then once again bringing it into himself. 
Nagito just stood there, dazed at the sight he was beholding. He really wasn’t sure what he did wrong, because he did what he was supposed to do, right? Yet, the heavy guilt building up within his stomach begged to differ.
He shuffled up lightly to your slightly shaking frame. He then dropped to his knees, a thump sounding from the action. Carefully, he laid his head in your lap, while tenderly placing his arms around your lower body. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to see that…” Nagito pleaded, his mumbling apologies verberated lightly from his mouth. You didn’t know what came over you, but you unsteadily placed your hands in his hair, patting it like you would with a delicate puppy. After a few seconds, you could feel a sudden dampness on your legs, and you could only guess it was Nagito’s down regretful tears. 
“It’s...okay...you were trying to help. I understand, so everything is okay.” Was all you said.
The four of you all gathered in that position for a while, with some people switching around to give you the ultimate care and affection. The rest of the time together was used as a break from your emotional journey, with all of you guys gathering up on the couch to watch as many Star Wars movies you could possibly watch within a certain time frame.
….
LEVEL 2: HUMAN INTERACTION
The four of you were in a restaurant that was one of the most popular places in town. The menu was expansive and expensive, and the desserts were rumored to be on par with one of the best confectionery institutes in the country.
Chiaki had helped you to get dressed for the occasion beforehand, wanting you to learn the basics of dress code and why it’s placed into different areas. You learned that in places that excel in wealth, status, as well as being full of influential people, were usually required of a dress code. Fancy, one could call it, was usually the status quote. Though, if it wasn’t those things, then you could basically wear whatever you wanted to unless stated otherwise. Interesting….
“I’ll be paying the bill today, in case anyone is wondering.” Nagito said, shifting his suit a bit to fix the minor details. His hair was up in what seemed to be a half ponytail, with the rest of his wild hair flowing downwards as per usual.
“Well, yeah, you kinda are the only one that can pay for this kinda thing…” Hajime rang out, checking his watch from underneath his white dress shirt sleeves. You really liked how the shirt fit Hajime, for it accentuated his slightly muscular chest a little more, as well as his smaller waist being hugged by his black dress pants and belt.
Chiaki sat next to you, a pink dress hugging her curves perfectly. Not too tight to a point where it made her uncomfortable, but it still made her figure known, which was a cute, hourglass figure. It was too bad that she hid herself underneath her hoodie most of the time, she honestly deserves to flaunt it more often from your perspective, but you still respected her personal conservatism when it came to her own body.
“So...what do I do now? I know this has to do with my social development. I think. Right?” You questioned, wanting to know what you needed to do in order to improve, and hopefully lead you to be more bearable during social activities.
“We were thinking just simple things for now, like ordering for us, calling over for the check, asking for refills, and that stuff. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to do so, and we’ll correct you on anything when needed.” Chiaki quickly explained, with you nodding along, signaling that you were indeed listening to her. 
“If (Y/n) is going to take our orders and give them to the waiter...then I guess i’ll have to tell you what I would like. A six ounce filet mignon with a caesar salad, please and thank you, dearest.” Nagito carefully listed off his order. You didn't really expect him to be a fan of steak, but you record the information with ease.
“Lobster and a side of soup for me.” Hajime smiled.
“I’ll have the french onion soup then. No side, I’m saving room for dessert!” Chiaki eagerly bounced in her seat, seeming to be quite excited for the treats this establishment would offer.
“Got it, then I’ll order just that, along with my food as well.” You confirmed the list in your head, just to double check, and once the waiter came around for the order, you did what you needed to do with ease. You were getting better, and that made everyone at the table extremely proud of your progression into becoming a better you.
“I want (Y/n) to practice in drama talk, I think that would be funny.” Chiaki commented, giggling at the suggestion. You figured “Drama talk” was just the spreading or finding of interesting rumors. You didn’t know that Chiaki was into that kind of thing, but it was quite humorous all in the same. 
“Hm, interesting. Well, what kind of things have you seen around the school that could fuel into this conversation, (Y/n)?” Hajime asked, resting his head on his propped-up hands.
Interesting….you couldn’t really think of anything right off the bat. You looked back into your memories to see if there was anything that could be of interest...until you found it.
 “I think I saw Kazuichi and Sonia walk into a cafe two days ago.” You attempted to spark something interesting, and apparently it worked, because Chiaki went absolutely feral at your comment.
“No. Way. I don’t believe it, are you sure it was actually them!?” Chiaki hollered, eyes sparkling out of a childlike curiosity. 
“I’m almost positive, there’s only a few people I know that have pink hair, and another with blonde locks that reach to their ankles.” You confirmed, making even Hajime and Nagito’s attention draw into the topic. It seems as if they weren’t really expecting it either. It was funny how both of their eyes blew up all of a sudden, as if you said something completely ridiculous.
“Is it...really that unbelievable?” you asked, genuinely wanting an answer. You kind of were seeing it all along, though it was merely one sided at first, like, really one sided. Eventually you expected them to hook up somewhere in between.
“I don’t really know him very well since we don’t really share the same class but I’ve heard from Chiaki that he can be a bit…” Hajime tried to search for the words, as if he wanted to pick something out of the dictionary that is not as offensive as he wanted it to be.
“Hyperactive with a dash of a perverted young teen.” Nagito finished bluntly. He wasn’t wrong, but you believe that he could be a grown man...sometimes. 
Alright, maybe not as much as what was ideal, but still.
“Oh my god I still can’t believe this is happening…” Chiaki was sitting there, looking like she was a woman in her thirties experiencing her first midlife crisis. You figured you succeeded in the drama department...or maybe you had said too much.
….
The night ended off extremely profitable to your social skills, and to your stomach. You learned correct table mannerisms, as well as waiter manners and gestures from the three of your friends. Not to mention that you have never tasted anything more delightful than the multitude of desserts that Nagito had ordered for the table. Although he wanted to get the whole dessert menu, he knew that the proportions could probably not fit all on the table, so he just got what he believed to be the best five deserts. And let’s just say that you and Chiaki were having a ball with all of them, while Hajime and Nagito were sharing a lava cake with vanilla ice cream, in their own little conversation. 
You and Chiaki felt like you couldn’t walk, and truth be told, you two actually couldn’t. It was so funny that Nagito probably busted a lung, and Hajime chuckled profusely while helping the two of you hobble out of the restaurant with your full bellies.
All of you had an eventful sleepover after that, with all of you falling asleep on each other while watching the Home Alone series. All of you passed out after the first movie, because it was boring compared to the first one. Nothing could ever beat the first one.
Once everyone woke up the next morning, apparently Nagito had prepared another lesson for you, wanted everyone to join and participate, for this one was “Special” compared to the other ones.
You don’t really know how it happened, but now you were stuck on the couch of Nagito’s house, being lectured about a topic you honestly didn’t know that much. Well, other than the movie’s that you’ve watched about it.
LEVEL 3: ROMANCE
“I think we can all agree that (Y/n) here will definitely get asked out dozens of times throughout their lives, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito stated, as if it was an obvious fact that everyone in the world should know.
“I mean, yeah. I really wouldn’t be surprised if she got asked out a few times.” Hajime replied, trying his best to be as nonchalant as possible, though the light blush on his face was quite evident in that moment alone. You never got to see his face as flushed as it was very often. And it was amazingly amusing.
“Therefore, I propose we teach her the swooning basics! Romantic gestures, if you were to frame it that way.” Nagito spread his arms out, as  if he were a ruling king among a giant kingdom. 
You were a bit dumbfounded by the idea, purely because of the fact that Nagito, of all people, came up with this idea. You will admit that you were completely inept when it came to anything close to romance or love, but that doesn’t really mean that you weren’t open to trying to be in a relationship. Though, you don’t really know what to do if that circumstance ever were to pass.
“Wait, are you sure that they’ll even be comfortable with this? This is some intimate stuff we’re talking about.” Chiaki chimed in, proving a point. You have heard about some actions that only lovers do, and you honestly didn’t really want to practice them, based on the descriptions that those actions beheld.
“As long as it’s nothing overboard, I don’t see the harm.” You confirmed, wanting to let everyone know that you’re ready for probably one of your toughest challenges yet. Or not. Who knows?
“Wonderful! Now, where to start...suggestions, anyone?” Nagito looked into the mere three person crowd he had going on, pointing at a Hajime who had raised his hand. When did this suddenly become a classroom scenario?
“Well, we should probably think about what couples do, right? Like, I dunno, holding hands and hugging. Things like that, right?” Hajime indicated, listing off the activities with his fingers.
“Perfect! Well, you know what to do then…” Nagito went over to Hajime, nudging him a little bit towards you. He rolled his eyes in response, seeming to be tired of Nagito’s antics of teasing and prodding.
“I...guess I’ll try…” Hajime murmured, picking himself up from the couch, then plopping himself closer to you. You turned to look into his eyes, which had quickly darted away from your own, a spreading red blooming onto his cheeks.
“Well, I guess I’ll teach you how to, uh, hold hands first.” Hajime stated, nervousness evident in his voice. You could hear Chiaki giggle in amusement from her spot on the couch, along with a chortling Nagito, who was snickering through his toothy smile.
“Usually,” Hajime began, “Couples hold each other's hands like this.” He softly took your hand into his own, intertwining his fingers to fit the spaces inbetween yours like a perfect fit to a puzzle piece. It was cheesy to just think about it, but it honestly felt like it belonged there, and it made your chest begin to feel warm, resembling hot coals within a fireplace.
“People can do this basically whenever, like when they're walking together, laying down with each other, and some people even do it when they, uh, sleep with one another. But either way, it feels nice, doesn’t it?” Hajime inquired, lifting up your tangled-up fingers, smiling kindly. The whole thing was so incredibly comforting and sweet, making you face unconsciously heat up. You’ve only blushed a few times in your life, and half of those times you had no clue you were even blushing, but now, you were pretty damn sure your face was as red as a freshly picked strawberry. 
“‘Oh, yeah. You can also do this, I think this is kinda a common thing too.” Hajime then undid the bond of the two hands, gently putting his own hand underneath yours. With his thumb, he dragged it back and forth across the top of your hand, making your heart leap from the gesture.
“Woah, Hajime, you really know your stuff, don’t you?” Chiaki pestered, giggling herself into even higher spirits. Hajime huffed out in an embarrassed annoyance. Can he just...have this moment for a god forsaken minute?
“Can...can I try?” You suddenly spoke, causing Hajime the look up in attentive stature. He let go of your hand, but still left it pretty close to your dominant one.
“Of course, you’re the student here, after all. So, go ahead.” Hajime then offered his hand, leaving it suspended in the air, waiting for you to reciprocate.
You nervously approved his hand with yours, your heart beating so hard up against the inside of your chest, that you were partially convinced that it was begging for an escape. You then shakily intertwined your fingers, causing Hajime to reciprocate your hold. Your hand was probably clammy from all of your apprehension, but Hajime looked pleased with what you had achieved.
“Look at that, all by yourself, huh? Look at you go.” Hajime chuckled, playfully gripping tighter onto your hand, then started to shake it around lightly, making you laugh a little from the gesture.
It was strange, but you really wanted to know what it was like to hold Nagito and Chiaki’s hands as well...maybe it was just your brain’s curiosity kicking in, or maybe it was the yearning that your heart was reaching out for. You didn’t know, so you let the feeling flourish, letting it be.
….
“And how in the world is Nagito good at anything romantic again?” Hajime exclaimed, making Nagito mock offence from the comment, then wickedly laughed it off. Chiaki shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes a bit, wanting her point to be shown through.
“You can’t deny that he’s pretty creative when it comes to names.” Chiaki explained, “He’s probably the most qualified person here if we’re going to teach them about pet names.” She turned her head to the lucky boy in question, who was playing with one of his bottom curls with his index finger, twirling it around, then releasing it in a transfixing way.
“Hm? Oh, well if I could be of some use...then of course I’ll do it for our little sunflower!” Nagito seemed to brighten the room a few levels of hues with merely his speech alone.
“Ok, well I see what you mean now…” Hajime mumbled into Chiaki’s ear, causing her to puff up in pride.
Nagito seated himself next to you, making himself comfortable. He gestured for you to do the same, wanting for you to be relaxed while he did his wordy magic.
“I’m honestly not the best for something like this, with me being a piece of lonely trash and all, but I’ll try to introduce you to some ‘Pet Names’ your future lover might bestow upon you. Better yet, you could use these to give to your lover yourself, which is also a fine option.” Nagito seemed to fully lean his weight onto the couch, closing his eyelids, and sighing out in a relaxed bliss.
“Hmmm...a common one is baby, babydoll, or even the bland bae are all some simple ones. They’re calling you cute, like a giddy child, but personally those are quite the lazy names, in my opinion…” Nagito chuckled.
 So...getting basically called a kid by your lover means that they think you're cute? That confused you...because you didn’t really like the idea of you being compared to a child on the cuteness spectrum. It seemed wrong...but you got why others would enjoy it.
“These one’s I enjoy more, they’re all based on sweet foods, indicating you’re, well, sweet. Or maybe just scrumptious in your own way...Anyway, people can say honey, cupcake, buttercup, and probably a lot more.” His hands started to sway around him, aiding him in his explanation.
You could call someone a sweet-tasting food and they’ll be flustered from the complement? That sounds simple enough.
“Ah, we still have so much more, I could go on forever…” Nagito exhaled, smiling, seeming to be experiencing a lot of inner peace in that moment.
“No, please continue. This is interesting to me, and I’m also learning a lot!” You proclaimed, curious for more. Nagito just snickered, moving on with his long list of names.
“People sometimes like to nickname after animals. The ones that are known to be small or cute, like bunny, bambi, kitten, and my personal favorite, dove. So pretty, is it not? Naming your lover after the bird that represents inner peace, and the bringer of love…”
You nodded and hummed in agreement, even though he couldn’t see you with his eyes closed. The fact that humans named other humans based off of animals for the sake of endearment made sense, but you hoped it didn’t get too extreme, or was used in offensive language... 
“What one’s do you like the most?” You asked, to Nagito’s surprise. He had to stop and think for a moment, as if he was about to prepare himself what he was about to say.
“I’m...picky. I like names that are meaningful, yet roll off the tongue just right. Though, I also want my partner to be comfortable with the name as well. It’s hard to pinpoint a single one but...maybe it would have to be between love, or precious. They’re simple...but for some reason it makes my heart feel warm.” Nagito put his hand to his chest, humming in satisfaction from his own touch.
“Hmmm….I think if I wanted to give you a pet name Nagito, I think it would be…” You sat in thought, furrowing your brows to think of something endearing your can say to the hopeless romantic.
“Ah, now there’s no need for tha-”
“Flower.”
“Huh?” Nagito opened his eyes to look at you, staring into your thoughtful orbs.
“Like a dandelion, because when you blow on it to make a wish, then it comes true. So I think it matches well.” You tried to break down your reasoning, but it just left Nagito more confused, and not to mention more flustered.
“I...don’t really seem to understand really.” Nagito shifted around on the couch as a sort of a nervous tick. It was obvious to even you that the way his eyes flickered around like someone in a frantic state indicated much apprehension.
“It’s because you're the flower that made my wishes come true.” You stated, smiling at the boy who started to radiate steam from his ears, seemingly not able to take anymore of the emotional turmoil.
In the end, Hinata had to lay him down on the couch for a while, while Chiaki pulled out a bag of frozen peas to place on Nagito’s burning cheeks, who was mumbling something along the lines of “I’m so lucky…” like a crazy mantra.
You just watched it all go down, while also using the term “Flower” in sentences out loud, honestly not helping with Nagito’s heart, which was out of control.  
….
“So...I have to teach you how to cuddle, right? Well that’s easy. Boys, get off this couch. It’s cuddle time. ” Chiaki blatantly said, though she did keep that pretty smile on her face at all times. Your knowledge on cuddling was limited, but you did it a couple times as a whole group, so that counts...probably.
“Lay down so we can get started, okay?” Chiaki gently said, laying herself down on the couch, opening her arms to you, inviting you into her seemingly warm embrace. You eminently fell into her arms, your head nuzzling unintentionally into her chest. She giggled at your actions, obviously enjoying herself. 
Hajime and Nagito, not really knowing what to do, just sat down together in a large cushioned recliner, the both of them leaning back into the chair, bodies pressed up against each other. Nagito had grabbed a book beforehand, so he took this time to simply enjoy his novel. Hajime, being curious and bored, kept on bugging Nagito with questions about the book, which Nagito honestly didn’t mind him doing.
“Ok, let’s start with the common stuff, little spoon or big spoon?” Chiaki said, holding up the number two on her fingers to indicate the options that she had just listed. You had no idea what she had just ment. Spoons? Like, soup spoons? Or ice cream spoons? Your mind was rushing with questions, and Chiaki snickered lightly from your inquisitive irises, knowing how perplexed she had made you.
“Sorry, you’re probably confused, so I’ll just show you.” She shifted herself so that she was facing away from you, so that all you could see was her back. She then wiggled closer to you from that angle, so that her spine was pushed up lightly against your chest. You just laid there, rigid in not knowing what to do with your arms, which were tense from Chiaki’s actions. 
“Wrap your arms around me. Don’t be shy, I’ll tell you if you’re doing something wrong.” She said, waiting for your embrace to bestow itself around her.
Humming in agreement, you used your arms to comfortably wrap itself around Chiaki’s dipped waist, instinctively pulling her closer to you. The pink-haired girl had mumbled from the movement, but then stuck up a little thumbs up to you, indicating that you did everything perfectly.
The two of you stayed in that position for a while, getting comfy from each other's radiating warmth. It was something so peaceful, that it filled your heart with an unknown bliss. You wanted to stay like this forever, but you knowing that it had to end eventually made you feel just a bit of disappointment.
“M’kay..les’ do another one.” She finally spoke, sleepiness obvious within her voice, making you smile a bit. She turned over to you, then started to shove your shoulder lightly with her palm.
“Go on your back…I’m gonna lay on you.” She murmured, pushing you down on your back, and shifting her form onto your chest. Her head was snuggled into your neck, while her arm lazily laid on your abdomen. What surprised you about the position is the fact that Chiaki’s leg had tossed itself over to drape over your lower body. It was as if she was just a baby, clingy koala who wanted their nap time to begin already...actually, this was exactly that, Chiaki was definitely a cute, sleepy koala who just wanted to snooze.
“This is the sweetheart’s cradle...you make a good pillow…” Chiaki mumbled into your neck, making the area feel hot from how flustered you were. Yet, it was so incredibly soothing, that you just wanted to just...rest here until the day you died. You weren't even exaggerating either, because if you were to die like this, you definitely would be the happiest person on earth, and definitely the most snug corpse out there by a longshot.
“Can...can the other’s join too?” You managed to mutter, causing Chiaki to slightly stick her head up.
“Mhm...you’re lucky this couch is big…” she answered, then turned her head to the two boys, who were bickering about the protagonist from Nagito’s book.
“(Y/n) wants you guys to join, come on...don’t keep me and them cold and waiting.”
From that point forward, nothing could compare from the warmth of all three of the people that meant the most to you. The warmth of family...the warmth of true friends...and the warmth of love, all sang such a bright song in your heart, helping you to finally find yourself again. The hardened plaster covering your emotional bank had cracked, leaving the feelings to leak free for the first time in a decade.
And with that layer of facade broken by the people you grew to love the most, you couldn't have wanted it any other way. It would always be them to break down your walls. It would always be them that lead you down the path to find the you you’ve always been searching for. And it would always be them that provided you with the love that you’ve missed out on in life. 
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