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unsureofreligionname · 4 years

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This was meant to be me venting, but accidentally became a history of my relationship with religion instead.

Alright. So.

Came here to talk about religion because I have no outlet. If you don't want to hear it, just block me. I'm not trying to convert anyone, I'm just explaining things to see if anyone has a feckin name for my damn belief system, because I really want to avoid accidentally starting a religion or something and pissing everyone off more.

People who got pissy last time got on my ass about how I probably wasn't even ethnically jewish, so here's the whole story.

I was raised by a mother who was raised by a non-practicing jewish mother, both of whom converted to christianity in the late nineties, shortly before I was born. They're ethnically jewish, or so I'm told.

Not super related, but, in case it comes up later, I was raised with the belief that my mother's family is a long line of very careful psychics, which roughly means "a lot of the family is sensitive to spirit shit but avoids it like the plague because it's scary."

I was raised by a father who is, as far as I know, not ethnically jewish. He's of mixed asian heritage, so i guess maybe, but I'm going to assume he's not. His parents, however, were both religiously Jewish; my grandmother was adopted and raised Jewish, and my grandfather converted sometime between meeting and marrying my grandmother. They are reform. My father wasn't the most religious guy in the world, but, if you asked, he'd probably either make a joke about ohio state football or say that he was jewish.

I was raised by my father and mother together until I was seven. We didn't always consistently go to church in early childhood, but my mother did take me to two or three for months or years at a time during the 2-5 period. We celebrated christmas and easter, and i had an illustrated children's bible that, if I remember right, was split into two parts: the first was marketed to christian and jewish kids, and the latter- new testament- to christian kids. Guessing the marketing from the publishing organizations. I think I had a few other religious books and videotapes directed towards kids, both jewish and christian. I specifically remember one that illustrated mana as vanilla wafers for some reason. At seven, my parents divorced, and I primarily lived with my dad.

My dad didn't take me anywhere on the regular, but when I visited his parents for the full weekend, they'd take me to the synagogue. This was every couple of weeks. We celebrated major jewish holidays, but smaller festivals only really got a mention. When I was ten, my dad and stepmother married. She wasn't really religious, but her parents were christian, so christmas was back on our roster then, too.

I started going to hebrew school in 6th grade, but I didn't actually have a bar mitzvah because I ended up getting kicked out at around the time I turned 13 due to a whole thing about me going trick or treating when I was "too old" or whatever, shitty parents, so I ended up having to go live with my mom after that.

At this point, my mom was studying to become a youth pastor, and enrolled me into a local christian school with about a hundred students. Unfortunately, this ended up being a weird fundamentalist cult with its own textbooks and teachings, including that bacteria was not real, AIDS was a summoned by The Gays™ to kill all the christians, evolution was a conspiracy meant to dissuade people from religion, et cetera. It was fucking bizarre, at one point they called several of us posessed for being autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, and they categorized us students into the groups wise, fools, simple, and scorners. (I was a fool, by the way.) It was really not ideal, and the weird punishments were pretty traumatic. There was some weird brainwashy type word repetition involved with lookatthepersonsayokayanddothetask over and over and over, and it sucked.

So, I was at that school for about 18 months before they kicked me out for refusing to stand on one foot for an extended period of time after tapping my foot in class which caused a student who disliked me to complain.

At the same time, my mother was working at a small church out of town that wasn't exactly a cult, but I think the pastor kind of wanted it to be? It was like he wanted the cult aesthetic™ and devoted followers and shit, but only had the skill to make a really sketchy and toxic small town church with a lot of people sitting on blankets on the floor instead. That church honestly wasn't a big part of my life the way the fucked cult was, I just sort of went most weeks. I went to a confirmation class there- I'm pretty sure it was a methodist church- and got confirmed into it shortly before my mother left because the administration was weird in like an asshole way, and that was the last I knew of it.

I was homeschooled for a while during the end of this period due to all of the school stuff. Religiously, by this point in my life, I'd developed some of my own beliefs. I believed in most of the new testament and most of the torah, but I didn't have much exposure to the talmud or much of a comprehensive education in any religion. I think I read a bible cover to cover at least once as a kid, including some shitty commentary (it was a preteen bible) that gave me some internalized homophobia issues for actual years. I was also super curious about the paranormal but terrified of possession- remember the cult?- and I was curious about the idea of some people being reincarnated if they were needed on earth again. Not sure where exactly that idea came from, but it was there. People told me from a lot of sides that those with the wrong religion would go to hell, and the cult tried to teach us all to convert people at any opportunity, but, after leaving, the whole situation just made me massively uncomfortable. I did continue to practice the jewish traditions I knew how to do on my own- like hannukah and a weird private sort of passover- and my mother would support this by getting me what I needed for it, even though she didn't participate and I didn't go to any place of worship during holidays.

After getting kicked out of school not that long after adjusting to not seeing my dad or siblings on his side, we moved. My dad lost custody at some point and we no longer had to live close, so we moved and tried to find a better school. It was a Catholic grade school this time, and I was there for about six months, if I had to guess. It was actually a pretty good school, but I had some issues at the time, so I didn't enjoy it much. I was scared of teachers and administration by then, and I had trouble going the entire school day without panicking or not being able to work. There was a period of a week or two in which I didn't speak at school at all. We ended up settling on half days, and, after that, I did well.

The religion class was awkward. The other kids seemed to know more than me even though I'd thought I had a good grasp on religion at that point, and the little information we shared I'd been taught from a very different perspective. Everyone was very nice to me, but I definitely stood out as the kid who wasn't catholic at that point.

Chapel was even weirder. We had to go every wednesday during school, and catholic churches had so many traditions I didn't know about, and the stuff I knew about from either my jewish grandparents or protestant churches had a different name for some reason.

I'm looking at you, sacraments.

Anyway.

I don't think I got much out of the chapel, but religion classes were kind of cool. I liked learning about stuff I hadn't heard before, and the things that were the same were a comfort.

Soon, though, I was graduating eighth grade. I ended up going to a catholic high school. I was still out of place, but I at least had a basic idea of what to do during the mass this school had monthly.

I liked the religion classes here more, how they were an open discussion of everyone's opinions and experiences, and I liked that both of the most recent schools I'd gone to had actual textbooks with facts and studies in them. There were more kids there who weren't catholic, and I felt more comfortable to actually explore religious topics with people. I had a better understanding of catholic beliefs, a decent idea of their traditions, and could recognize at least a few of their holidays I couldn't have before.

I spent my last year of high school at a public career center to start working towards a medical career.

Now, my current beliefs. If you don't want to read it, then just don't.

I haven't been to any place of worship since my school required it, but I do have strong beliefs. I believe in one God (which I generally write all the way out after a billion essays for religion class) who created everything and watches over humans, which he made in his image, etc etc etc. I believe the old stories from the tanakh/old testament/don't care what you call it and the new- yes, including the key messiah bit- though I do think it wasn't all translated perfectly and that it was written by humans who made mistakes and poor decisions sometimes in their writing. I believe people's salvation comes through their intention, not through a piece of knowledge or a creed or good deeds or a tradition, and I believe different people worshipping in different ways is how it should be, because different people NEED different styles of worship. I believe that if someone is genuinely mistaken and incorrect in who or what they believe in, it doesn't MATTER because it's the intention to strive to do good and not harm fellow people that counts. I'm a little guarded about sharing my own beliefs, hence why I made an anonymous tumblr account, but I'm generally very curious to hear about what other people believe. I find that, for me, celebrating Jewish holidays and traditions helps me get closer to God, and I'd like to find a place of worship one day, but churches fucking terrify me now. I worship best by sitting and discussing beliefs, but I have no place to do it now that I've graduated school. I also developed some of my less related beliefs now: I believe in a lot of old stories that have popped up around the world, like fairies of various places, different creatures and entities and things that have become the subject of curiosity or worship, spirits and things, etc. I think many of these creatures exist, just that they may be different from us in the nature of how they interact with the world and matter and that, and I don't think they're deities or anything. I believe in ghosts of humans in some cases, too, though I believe sometimes other things mimic them. I don't find the idea of God having someone reincarnated if he wants the same soul to play many parts in the world unlikely at all, though that's really just me speculating. I still believe in demons, and I still don't want anything to do with them.

A lot of my understanding of things comes from Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant teaching in a strange mishmosh of culture and religion.

I relate to a lot of things directed at Jewish people, and I understand what's directed at Catholic people. Things directed at Protestant people are both understood and, unfortunately, make me instinctively wary due to weird cult trauma (that in no way reflects on actual protestant people, i love you guys some people just suck and twist religion) so are hard to interact with.

In a lot of ways, I'd consider myself Jewish. Culturally, at least, if my religious beliefs aren't "validly jewish" or whatever.

I have literally zero actual connections to any Catholic church, but I almost feel like a weird half-catholic. That's not a thing, but it's how it feels. I believe a lot of it, and I'm interested in all of it, even if I have my disagreements, plus I understand the environments and culture of it, even if I'm a bit of an outsider.

A year- or maybe two years, idk- ago, I mentioned some upcoming holiday or smth in a post and tagged it messianic. That's the closest name I could find for my experience, but apparently some organizations who use the term suck or something. I ended up getting a bunch of asks calling me a predatory fake jew or a fundamentalist christian trying to appropriate judaism or other weird shit that I'm NOT DOING. Because of my experiences in the past, those comments still weigh so damn heavy on my that I broke my resolve and made this stupid account to complain about it.

I don't have a name for what I am. I don't know where to go to talk about my beliefs with people, or what environment I could find to actually practice whatever weird faith I've dreamt up with other people in a way that isn't just picking part of what I believe and leaving the rest to rot. I feel closer to God and more spiritually fulfilled practicing the festivals that call back to what the Jewish people of old went through, but I also believe in the messiah of the new testament, and I like to read the pope's opinion on things, even though I think no human is perfect or infallible. I want to talk about old writings with people and discuss what they mean, from my religion or others, and I don't want to give any of what's right for me spiritually up.

I don't know what this post is for.

Maybe I'm just venting, but I do want to know if this is a thing or if I'm the only one with this belief system. I'm sick of getting shit for the actions of people who I'm not affiliated with, so apparently calling myself messianic doesn't cut it. I can't call myself "spiritual but not religious" either, because I'm very religious, it's just very personal and not something I shove at people, and "christian" doesn't describe a solid half of what I believe. Off and on again I've considered converting to Catholicism, but I think that's kind of grasping at the closest thing that won't piss off tumblr anons as much. (And yeah, the larger Catholic church can suck, but I honestly think I'm gonna get that with any religion with a large following)

Rambling aside:

I want to find a short description that hits the major points of what I believe in order to help me find a place or group of worship that actually matches my spiritual needs without compromising the cultures that I grew up with and making me feel like shit.

(Also don't try to change my beliefs thanks)

I'll be tagging this with anything I've mentioned or vaguely heard of that might be related so relax ok

6 notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years

Note

I have a Shikamaru request! It’s a bit long winded so dust with me 😊. Shikamaru is assigned to protect reader who is the last of her clan that a lot is not known about. (So he also has the secret mission of finding our more about the clan and their abilities). They end up falling for each-other (of course). And after reader finds out she is pregnant she learns that Shikamaru was meant to learn about her. I’m seeing some angsty fluffy goodness! And hopefully a happy ending. 🥰

Healing You (Shikamaru x Reader)

A/N: Thank you for your request! These long detailed ones are perfect and give me just enough information to give you the perfect story. I skipped the pregnancy part because im not totally comfortable with that...hopefully you still enjoy.

word count: 5500

Shikamaru had been anticipating this mission for a while. The Hokage told him it was of utmost importance to be ready at any time for this clan princess to show up. He was expected to drop all other missions or plans to escort this woman, whoever she was across the country to her homeland deep within Frost country. He wasn’t expecting much, actually he was expecting probably the worst client ever.

For someone to request escort at the drop of a hat like that, someone with enough money to do so as well... Shikamaru could only assume they were an asshole of the highest caliber. Probably some old woman or a spoiled little child, someone he definitely would not get along with for a month long mission just the two of them. He could remember the urgency in Kakashi’s tone when he assigned the mission, the amount of trust behind his words.

Shikamaru walked into the office casually, hands shoved deep in his pants pockets. Kakashi sat there alone at his desk, looking through paperwork and sifting through piles of white sheets, each with different names and faces. He must have thought long and hard about who he was to pick for this mission, the boy concluded.

This was going to be tiresome, he deduced quickly. Another tedious mission.

“Shikamaru, I have an important mission for you,” the man said clearly. “You can look through these files, if you want, but we don’t have any clear information on this one, I’m afraid.” He tossed over a folder full of records. Death receipts, birth certificates, first hand accounts of battles witnessed. He didn’t know what to make of what he was looking at other than a common last name running across the pages.

Hirawa.

“What is this about?” he questioned.

“In about a month's time, possibly longer, possibly shorter, I don’t have an exact date, you will escort Princess Y/N Hirawa, of the hidden Hirawa clan to the Land of Frost.”

“Who’s on my team?”

He shook his head at that question. “No one. This is a solo mission, and I’m entrusting you alone with this. It’s important you keep your mouth shut about all of this until we know it’s safe, for you and the princess.” Safe? Just what kind of mission was this anyway? Obviously it had something to do with this clan, not that he’d ever heard of them. “She has a bounty on her head, quite large at that. But we believe she can become the key to mastering some ninjutsu, particularly medical jutsu.”

“Well, what’s her clan’s kekkei genkai?”

“That’s what we don’t know, and for you to find out. All we know is that there's some dangerous people out there who want this power, and we need to protect her at all costs, you understand,” he stressed, and Shikamaru nodded. This wasn’t that big of a deal, he guessed. Protecting one girl from some rookie bounty hunters, not to mention he was being sent out alone. This was going to be a walk in the park.

The worst part of it all would be putting up with some troublesome girl for an entire month. Making conversation and having to pretend she wasn’t getting on his last nerve. That would tire him the most.

“Rumor has it, she was never able to awaken her ability, so I’m hoping you can help coax it out of her and see what we’re dealing with.”

“Of course. I’ll figure it out.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. You should take the files to look over in your free time, you’ll have lots of it before this mission. I have copies here for myself,” he motioned to another folder on her desk filled to the brim with papers just like the one he was holding. It was strange to have so much information at their fingertips, but not enough to put a description to their kekkei genkai. They must be secretive, similar to how the Uchiha hides their secrets on the stone tablet, or something.

He left the Sixth Hokage’s office and walked away to his home, where he could more closely go over the information in this folder, try to deduce something from all this random information. He would get to the bottom of this, he was a genius after all. Whether he had the help of this woman or not, he would figure it out for the Hokage.

And so, here he stood outside of Kakashi’s office with all his supplies packed in his bag, dressed for a long mission away from home. The princess had arrived. He was to meet her and then immediately they were supposed to leave off to her homeland.

The Anbu officer to his left opened the door, and motioned for him to walk in. So uptight for just a little meeting, was all this security really necessary, he wondered to himself. As he looked into the room, he spotted Kakashi standing along the window behind his desk with a smaller woman at his side, wrapped up in thick robes made of wool, embroidered with thick silver and white yarn.

Admittedly, her clothes looked incredibly expensive. He questioned how she wasn’t sweating bullets with the typical warm weather outside here in Konoha. He was expecting her to turn around, to be this hideous creature.

“Ah, Y/N, it seems your escort has arrived,” Kakashi hummed, placing a soft hand on the woman’s back as she turned around. When he finally got a good look at her face, he was taken aback, nearly enough to throw him off balance. She was decidedly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Wrapped up in those blankets was a young woman, who couldn't be much older than he was, with piercing eyes that immediately cut through his.

Her hair fell just perfectly around her face to frame her features, the soft color suiting her eyes and skin perfectly. Her eyelashes flickered over her eyes a few times as she gazed over at him, and he felt swoon. She had the softest skin he’d ever seen combined with those mesmerizing eyes and the shape of her face which looked like it belonged cradled in his hands.

He felt this inert urge to run in the opposite direction from her, out the room and down the hall, back to home where he could catch his breath. He already knew his cheeks were turning bright red under her stare, and he could tell Kakashi was judging him with those dark eyes of his.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shikamaru Nara,” she hummed, and he felt faint. Even her voice was precious, almost like she was singing. He choked down his breaths, trying to keep his cool the best he could. It was uncharacteristic of him to act this way with a client. He was just her escort, not some pervert. They were going to live together for basically a month, he needed to get a grip on his emotions. “Your Hokage was telling me great things about you.”

“Oh, uh,” he paused, frozen without words to leave his lips, just an empty mind full of her image. He shook his head a bit, eyes now glaring down at the floorboards beneath him. “You too, Princess.”

“Please, just call me Y/N. Princess is just too formal for me,” she told him, waving off the title almost as quickly as it left his mouth. “Kakashi, it was nice getting to know you this morning, I hope to see you and your wonderful village again soon.”

“You’re welcome back whenever you like.”

She rounded the table and approached Shikamaru carefully, eyeing him down as she did so. She took in his appearance and his stance, the emotions she could see radiating off his person from his body language. From the looks of it, he simply appeared flustered and confused. Not exactly the most ideal for the situation at hand, but they would manage. Men usually had a similar reaction when they saw her for the first time, either they were in awe or they were trying to kidnap her.

He nodded in her direction and then to the Hokage before turning around and starting out the door, the girl following closely behind him. He could hear the swishing of her thick robes around her ankles, just barely skimming the floor. He still didn’t know her personality at all, but he wouldn’t mind looking at her once in a while on this trip.

“So, why are you heading to the Land of Frost?” he asked, and she sighed.

“One of the village elders is dying. They believe my kekkei genkai is the only way to reverse the incoming death, and its consequence on my people,” she explained.

“Why doesn’t another one of your clan members do it? Surely the rest of your family lives-”

“There is no one else. I am the last living Hirawa,” she told him simply, and he could sense a bit of ice dripping off her tongue at those words. How could she not be upset recalling the annihilation of her entire clan. “The problem is that I haven’t been able to awaken my kekkei genkai. I’m not sure what they want with a useless Hirawa like me.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about your clan, but calling yourself useless really isn’t-”

“How would you feel, Shikamaru, if you were the only person in the world with the ability to save a human being from their certain death and you couldn’t even activate that gift? You have to understand how that feels for me,” she told him solemnly, her head hung low as she walked toward the gates of the village right beside the boy. People looked at her as she moved through the village, they stared in awe at her clothes and her face and the unique glimmer in her eyes. And she cowered inward, tucking herself into her robes and the fur of her hood even further, away from the prying eyes of this village.

He stayed silent, not really knowing how to respond to what she’d said to him. The sadness and the anger in her tone, deep within her words, was immeasurable. She was in pain, a conflict with herself. He wasn’t going to get into that just yet. They’d only met a few minutes ago.

They left the village together and started on their journey. It was going to be a long month, that’s for sure.

________

It had been a week of walking through the forest already, days of sleeping on the ground beneath the stars, eating rations out of his bag over the fireplace. Originally, he thought this mission would be easy, that she seemed like a normal-ish girl who wouldn’t give him any trouble, but he was wrong.

She was too quiet. It was strange, walking with someone for hours without a single word shared between them. He tried to start up a conversation, and she would reply with one word answers, sometimes if he was lucky, two or three words. She rarely looked at him, choosing to either stare at the ground where she took each step, or up at the stars and the vastness of it all. She was lost in her own mind.

Every night, as they were falling asleep, he could hear her looking over at him, scanning his form for a sign that he was still awake. He would remain still, facing the opposite way on his side, head propped up on his bag. Then, when she thought she was safe, he would hear the sobs run through her weak form. She would shake and quiver, curling in on herself and crying out into the forest for only Shikamaru and the moon to hear.

He felt terrible for her, needless to say. The guilt he felt just from hearing her cries, and knowing her internal struggle was enough to make this trip difficult. His heart hurt for her, as strange as that was to say. Normally, it was easy to remain objective, but with Y/N, it was different. He felt attached. He felt like her problems were also his. It was maddening.

She laid on the ground beside him, the majority of her soup still in her bowl and her water bottle resting at her side. She stared up into the clouds, occasionally, her eyes would slide over to see what he was up to and then she would look back at the sky. “You need to eat. We have a lot of walking until we reach the next town, probably a week’s worth. I can’t carry you if you get too tired,” he told her, pushing her bowl closer to her side.

“You know, Shikamaru, sometimes I wonder why people like you Leaf nin even protect someone like me. What’s the point? I’m useless to you and the enemy,” she muttered hopelessly. He still pushed the soup closer until she sat up and took the bowl into her hands, taking a small sip from the spoon. “I just don’t get it. How can you call me princess when I’m just as normal as the next woman on the street?”

“Listen, I don’t know what anyone else has told you, but that’s a load of bullshit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, just because you can’t access your abilities right now doesn’t make you useless. You’re still a person just like everyone else,” he explained, stabbing his spoon into his soup as he found himself getting a little worked up. He couldn’t stand this self-pitying bullshit from her. Yeah, she was sad and all, but she didn’t have to rub it into the wound like this.

She looked surprised at his words.

What did she expect him to say? That she was right and then just abandon her out in the woods? He was beginning to think this girl was just plain stupid.

“It’s just been impossible since the incident to think of anything else. I’m sorry for upsetting you,” she sighed, taking another sip of her now cold soup.

He questioned carefully. “What incident?” He was on a mission after all. To discover her clan secrets and bring them back to the village to study. Even if she was being emotional, he could still gather some intel.

She bit her lip, and looked up to the sky again, blinking back tears from gathering in the corners of her eyes. She took a few deep breaths before explaining herself. “The day my clan was massacred. The day that those people slaughtered my sensei in front of the entire village and then killed my parents.”

He paused, lifting his eyes to look at her. She was crying, as he expected, silent tears dripping from her eyes into her lap. But she was holding strong otherwise, not a falter in her voice or a catch in her breath. She wasn’t even shaking. She was really serious about keeping these emotions private, in the middle of the night where he couldn’t hear or see.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he assured, but she shook her head.

“I’m fine. I should talk about it anyway. I haven’t had a person to talk to in years, you know.” Sitting on her face was the saddest of all smiles, a weak attempt at remaining strong. She wiped at her eyes with her wrist and continued. “I’m not even sure why they wanted us all dead, but it had something to do with the war and my clan’s actions. They were barbaric. They slit the throat of my sensei in town square and we watched her blood drip across town while they carried her head.”

“Oh, damn.”

“I know,” she agreed, “As sick as it is to say, I’m glad they only stabbed my parents with a sword. We used to be royalty, it took them killing an entire army of soldiers to get to the throne room to kill them. I was only a child hiding in the curtains, I had to watch without making a sound. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t even breathe, or they would have killed me too.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. That’s horrific.”

“When they left, it was only me. I had to walk my way to one of the outer villages for help. I was a mess, covered in my parents blood. They’d stolen everything. All the secrets of the clan. I never got the chance to read the sacred texts. I only know from my Sensei the very basics of what we can do.”

He absorbed what she had said, taking in each word. Admittedly, she lived a terrible, horrible life, one to rival Sasuke at that. He asked, “You haven’t been able to retrieve any of the texts, have you?”

“No, unfortunately. That’s why it’s taken me this long to figure out how to unlock my ability. I literally do not know how,” she confessed, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “It feels strange, knowing I have this ultimate healing ability and I can’t even use it to save anyone.”

“Ultimate healing ability?”

“Well, yeah. That’s our kekkei genkai. We can heal basically anything besides death. Blindness, deafness, rotting limbs, in some cases, paralysis. I’m not sure how it works, but that’s what it does. That’s why they want me to come home so desperately. I’m the only one left who can heal her.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he stated bluntly, and she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“What?”

He reiterated, “You’ll figure out how to use your kekkei genkai. I believe in you. You’re beautiful, smart, and modest, not a fool.”

She found her cheeks begin to heat up at his words, and she leaned back, her eyes catching onto his. “Thank you, Shikamaru. It’s not everyday I get earnest compliments like that.” It was true. Normally, she did get compliments, but not the nice kind. She would often get harrassed on the street by men without brains, or recieve backhanded comments from people of her own village who hated her for what she could not be.

He shook his head, “Well, you should. You’re a strong woman, you just need more faith in yourself. You have almost no self-confidence whatsoever.” He was right about that too. Sad, wasn’t it? “You’re obviously a good person, so be proud of yourself. Not a lot of people could have gone through what you did and still be on the good side to this day.”

“I-” Y/N froze, her eyes growing wide. “Did you hear that?” she asked, her eyes flickering from Shikamaru into the woods. There were voices, soft and quiet voices, but they were still there, hush in the background. He stood up on his feet, and motioned for her to stay down close to the ground.

“Come out, whoever you are.”

And, indeed, a group of men emerged from the forest, at least ten of them. They sauntered up to the pair and the leader smirked. “We’re not here to hurt you, Leaf shinobi. Just hand over the princess and no harm will come to you,” he said, his voice musty and disgusting, like he’d been smoking cigarettes everyday for the past ten years. They knew, clearly, that a leaf shinobi wasn’t just about to abandon their charge and go running for the hills. His request was a joke.

Y/N wasn’t a fighter. She couldn’t help even if she wanted to. She was solely a healer, and even then, her skills were shaky at best. She could only do the most menial and mediocre of work on her patients. Shikamaru was against these men completely alone.

She felt fear creeping up her spine and sending shivers through her body. She barely knew the boy, had only known him for a week or so, but damn, did she like him. He was kind to her, one of the kindest people she’d met in a long time. She wanted him to be safe, to save her and come out on top like the shinobi of the Leaf are supposed to.

He turned around and waved for her to run. “Princess, Imma need you to run. I’ll come find you when it’s safe. Just go.”

She was hesitant to take off, but one stern look from him shot down any thought of staying. The woman gathered up her robes and ran in the opposite direction of the crew and her protector. Immediately after she left, she heard screaming from behind, the shouts of men in pain and men filled with anger. So much yelling. She held her breath, and kept running, running until she could only hear the faint yells of the men. She couldn’t hear Shikamaru. He was far too quiet to have those loud theatrics on the battlefield.

Y/N took cover in the roots of a tree, and just listened, felt what was going on around her. She studied the chakra signatures floating through the air, counting how many men still lived and how many were alive and well. Likewise, she kept close track of Shikamaru’s energy, making sure he was still going.

If he died, she didn’t know what would come of her. Would she be sold off? Murdered? She knew of the unspoken bounty on her head amongst the criminals, and that struck fear in her heart. All she could do was pray for Shikamaru’s survival.

After what seemed like hours but in reality only about 10 minutes, the screams and shouts finally came to a halt. The chakra signatures of most of the men were completely gone, meaning they had died sometime during the battle. Only some remained, and they were weakened severely, probably passed out or bleeding out.

Shikamaru’s alarmed her. It was weak, almost as weak as the rest. She crawled out from under the tree and started back in the direction of the campsite, keeping her head low nearly in a crouch to stay unseen. There was no telling what was happening over there or who was still out here.

When she got to the campsite though, her eyes widened and she nearly screamed. While the rest of the men collapsed on the ground in bloody heaps, Shikamaru lay in the middle of them, bleeding out from a ginormous wound protruding from his side. She fell onto her knees beside his barely breathing form and held her hands over the wound, trying her best to run her chakra through her, but she was weak. Only a faint light emanating from her hands, not enough to come close to saving him.

“Shikamaru? Shikamaru, can you hear me? Please, try to stay awake, okay?” the girl pleaded, resting one of her soft hands on his cheek. He sighed into her touch. It was just as he imagined. Warm and gentle, like the caress of a feather. At least, if he were to die, it would be in the arms of an angel, he decided.

“You need to head back to the Leaf. Tell Kakashi what happened,” he sputtered out, blood leaving his lips and dripping down the sides of his face. “I lived a good life.”

“No, no, no. You are not dying on me. Not happening,” she whispered. She continued to pour her chakra into his wound, not that it was doing anything serious. Tears filled her eyes and she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling, but she couldn’t help it. All these tears plagued her life. Memories that made her cry. All the pressure. All the death. Poor Shikamaru lying here dying after saving her life. “I’m going to save you,” she muttered firmly.

Pressure built up in her chest and she pushed further and further, digging deeper into her chakra reserve. It actually hurt the amount of effort she was putting in. It was exhausting, and after about a minute, she was gasping for breath. “Stop. It’s okay, princess.”

“Dammit, Shikamaru, I told you not to call me princess, “ Y/N shouted, and in that moment, she felt something shift inside her. A well of energy she never knew she had opened up and she felt it being filled not by her own chakra but by the men around her. Her body absorbed every last bit of chakra in their bodies, filling hers completely. When Shikamaru looked up at her, he noticed a slight glow coming from her skin that wasn’t there before.

It seemed she awoke her kekkei genkai.

With all the newfound energy she had, she channelled it into saving Shikamaru. Right in front of her eyes, his wound began to close and blood sunk back into his body. He groaned at the feeling, shifting uncomfortably on the ground. Finally, she had done something great.

And as she watched the last bit of his wound shut and the blood to seep back into his body, she found herself grow lightheaded.

As she was passing out, she heard him calling her name, and the only thing she could do was smile. She did it. She saved him. Her vision went black and sleep overtook her swiftly.

________

After Y/N saved Shikamaru and awoke her kekkei genkai, the boy gathered up both of their belongings, hoisted them over his shoulder, and then carried her in his arms to the next village. She wasn’t waking up anytime soon, he found that was probably a bad side effect of using the ability. It completely drained her. He just knew he had to move before any of those guys woke back up. He was not ready to fight again.

He enjoyed feeling her in his arms, pressed tightly to his chest with her head lolling side to side. Y/N was sweet and cute, with her little, “don’t call me princess” proclamation before saving him. It seemed she was just as much a princess as everyone thought she was, and a powerful one at that. She basically brought him back from the dead, and he would be grateful for his entire life for what she’d done for him.

The two of them rested for the night in a village inn just a couple miles away before waking up the next morning and setting off with a new bounce in her step toward your homeland where she was sure she could save the village elder now. He watched as the girl walked eagerly in front of him, swinging her robes by her sides and letting her hair loose instead of a tight braid.

This side of her, it was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. Maybe, he found himself harboring just a tiny crush on the girl who saved his life, the girl who took his breath away when they first met. Maybe he liked her a lot. It was pointless to have such feelings for a girl he would probably never meet again after dropping her off in her homeland.

But he could enjoy his time now, with the girl of his dreams at his side.

He found himself wanting more time with her. Much more time. He knew they only had about a week before they arrived in the Land of Frost, and it was depressing him. He wanted her to come back to the village with him and live there, just so he could see her face everyday and hear that sing-song voice run off her tongue.

Was that so much to ask for? Well, yes, but he still wanted it…

They found themselves stopped for the night or two in a village on the coast. She was tired from all the walking and sleeping in the grass. She was willing to spend a few dollars to have a nice bed to sleep in for the night. She booked a room at one of the inns in town and collapsed into the mattress in the room, throwing her robes to the side and cuddling into the comforter. It had been so long since she was living in such comfortable conditions.

He took a seat beside her and pulled out a book, flipping to the most recent page and diving in. He was more than happy to finally rest. He was lazier than she was, after all. They had been walking for almost a month now, he was tired of it. The only thing that kept him going was seeing her smile every now and then, especially the ones directed at him, or in response to something he said.

Something about those smiles just made him feel good inside. It was sickening. These mushy, gushy feelings he was having. He was beginning to think he might be falling for the girl, like, falling in love. He was disturbed. Was he really that weak to a pretty face, soft hands, and a warm heart?

“Shikamaru?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be home in a week, and you’ll have to go back to the Leaf Village,” she said. He nodded. At that point, they would go their separate ways and it would all be over, this friendship they had. He’d never felt so torn about a mission until now.

He replied casually, “Yeah. Time flies, huh?”

She held her breath for a moment, thinking over her next words very carefully. She’d actually been pondering when she was gonna tell him over the last few days, thinking over every way the scenario could play out. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to leave you, Shikamaru,” she confessed, finally letting go of the breath she was holding.

He raised a brow, setting down his book and turning to face her. “What do you mean?”

“Well...it’s just that your Hokage seems to really like me, and I don’t really have a home anymore with my clan gone,” she mumbled, twiddling her fingers in her lap. “I was thinking maybe after I heal the elders and the village that I could go home with you instead. Live in the leaf village.”

He just looked at her. Had all his longing been for nothing? Could she really mean it? Coming home with him? Could his future really involve seeing her every day, introducing her to his best friends, and healing his people when they were injured?

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s a good idea, though, I totally get it-”

“No! I-I love that idea, actually.”

“Really?”

“Would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

He watched as her lips curled into a bright smile and she clasped her hands together. “Shikamaru, I’m so happy. You and the other Leaf nin are the only people to show me any kindness in a long time. I get to go home to people that will care about me.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty good at that back in the Leaf. Caring, that is.”

She fell back against the bed and sighed, curling up in the sheets once again. He watched as she smiled into the covers and closed her eyes, relishing in this feeling of newfound freedom and happiness, of the hope she found in him and the village. Despite finding women troublesome most of the time, he was willing to go through trouble for her. He felt like he’d do just about anything for this girl.

So unlike him. Tch. Get a grip, Shika.

Her next words had him melting like putty in her hands though. He just couldn’t help it.

"I'm glad you were assigned this mission with me. You helped me awaken my abilities, and I think it was fate that brought us together for that to happen," she sighed. "This meeting, you and I, it was always meant to be. I'm sure of it now."

"Maybe you're right. I wouldn't know," he replied.

It was quiet for a while, just her lost in her own dreams, her own thoughts. Her eyes trailed over to him, and she just knew she was swoon. With his lazy grin and his thoughtful gaze. It was so obvious to her now.

She confessed, “I think I like you. As more than just a friend, Shikamaru. I know I probably shouldn’t be telling you this considering I still need you to escort me to the village and all, and you might not want me to go back to the Leaf with you now, but I just-”

He couldn’t wait anymore. He was going crazy. Finally, he kissed her.

She felt his hands resting on either side of her head and his lips pressed carefully to hers, testing the waters. She brought her own hands up to cup his own, bringing him closer and deeper into the kiss. She smiled and sighed, enjoying the feeling of pure bliss. It had been so long since she felt something so good. Something so sweet.

“You like me too?”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

And he kissed her again. And again. And maybe a couple more times after that.

#shikamaru x reader #naruto x reader #shikamaru x you #naruto #shikamaru nara #shikamaru imagine #shikamaru one shot #naruto one shot #naruto imagine #imagine #x reader #oneshot #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #shikamaru x y/n

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

Hiiii can i request prompt 53 with tsukki? My annoying cousin u may know @chibiiichan(i cant tag her its a surprise) recommend ur account and well she never been right more than now I LIKE UR ACC TOO URM JUST TAG HER IN THE POST (bcs its actually her birthday next week monday so....the least i could do this bcs she likes tsukki and shes recently talk abt the iwazumi story of yours....lmao shes cringe but in the same time got mad n i was besides her hearing her whining like bruh 'its 1 am'...i know i should buy something for her but she got spoiled enough 💅...that mf-) thank you ✨

‘ALWAYS AND FOREVER’

TSUKISHIMA X READER

2K WORDS

GENRE: ANGST,FLUFF

TW: SLIGHT AMBIGIOUS MENTION OF SUICIDE/ASSISTED DEATH, AND DEATH, CURSING (IN MY A/N)

THIS IS FOR @chibiiichann Happy birthday, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS (BECAUSE I HATE IT :D ) SOOOOO YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BIRTHDAY.

NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. EXPECT SLIGHT MISTAKES

You were dying. You knew it. Your husband, Kei, knew it. Even friends you haven’t spoken too since high school knew it.

So why did you all pretend that everything was okay?

5 year old Y/N:

You were running around your neighbourhood park chasing after butterflies, without a care in the world. As you were frollicing in the grass, you manage to trip over a rock tumbling to the ground scraping your knee making it bleed. Looking down at your slightly injured knee, your lip begins to quiver which eventually leads to wails of tears streaming down your face.

“you don’t have to cry you know?” said a slightly quiet voice towering over you. Above you was a boy, quite tall with a fat pair of glasses, golden eyes and a head full of blonde locks.

“Well when I get hurt, I cry” you say matter oh factly (is that the phrase?) rubbing your nose as you sniffle. He held out a hand to you, which you immediately took shooting upwards and brushing yourself off.

The boy, after looking at you wildly, turns around and walks back to the actual park. “Oi wait,” you call at the boy swiftly following him “aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“no.” he says simply, proceeding to walk ahead.

“well my names Y/N L/N pleasure to meet you,” you say jumping in front of him so he doesn’t move, waiting for him to tell you his name...which he doesn’t. “you don’t have to be so rude you know”

“I’m not being rude” he says stiffly “ it’s just my brother says not to speak to strangers” a smirk appears on his face to say ‘you can leave me alone now.’

As if on cue, his brother approaches the both of you given the boy a slap on the back making him cringe “Hey Kei, who’s the friend you’ve made here?”

“My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here to be KEI’s best friend!” you said putting the emphasis on the word Kei after just learning that was the blondes name.

Kei rolled his eyes and sighed saying “nii-chan can we go home now” he folded his arms in annoyance.

“No Kei, you’ve got to get to know your new found friend Y/N-Chan right?” his brother said teasingly, knowing it was the last thing Kei wanted to do.

“Yes ofcourse!” you say with a toothy grin, dragging Kei along with you to his demise.

Until the sun went down, you spent the rest of your time with Kei getting to know eachother (well him getting to know you more, since you did all the speaking.) Regardless of his previous annoyance in getting to know you in the first place, Kei would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know you now.

As the sun was setting, Kei’s older brother (who’s name you learned was Akiteru) called him to tell him he had to go home because dinner was ready. Before he left, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your pinky finger around his saying “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

back to present -

In some odd way, this was Kei’s way of looking out for you. He knew what you had was uncurable and would weaken you even more as the days go by, so pretending like nothing was wrong seemed to be best in his eyes.

Everything you and Kei did was a game or some nostalgic act that you once did when you were children. It was sweet to say the least, seeing Kei all engrossed and determined to make you happy.

Your alarm rings snapping you out of you daydream, ‘it was time for medicine’ you thought with your face scowling at the thought. Immediately on time, as always, Kei comes In the room with all your medicine thats needed.

“Aren’t you my perfect little nurse Kei” you say teasingly giving him a wink, laughing as you see his face turn red.

“Do you have to do this every time y/n?” he asks rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

“Oh I'm just showing love to my best and favourite nurse” you continue laughing at your own words

“Im your only ‘nurse’” he deadpans giving you your medicine as you talk.

“Well that is more reason to make you the best nurse.” you say smiling.

Silence falls between you, and you stare down at your arm watching as your husband gives you the medicine making you frown. “Do we have to keep doing this?” you ask which is probably the 1000th time you’ve asked.

“Of course we do Y/N as I’ve said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that it-”

“But do we really?” you interrupt “I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you doubt me Y/N, I can do this forever” he says “ I can take care of you forever”

“But I don’t wan-”

“I’m finished, I’m going to start on dinner” he gets up and leaves the room yelling “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Sometimes you and Kei have these conversations. And all the time it ends the same way. You complain, he ignores and then you go and have dinner.

You can understand why he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Who would want to hear about their partners complaints about practically being alive. Kei was torn, ever since he met you all he wanted to was to keep you happy. But could he compromise his own happiness for it.

15 year old Y/N - flashback

“Kei Kei, aren’t you excited!” you yell smiling widley

“Excited for what?” he asks, amused by your enthusiasm “it’s just highschool.”

“Well it’s a new highschool! Karasuno high school, to be exact.”

“And that is still just a school.” he says

“Not just any! That’s the school nii-chan went too, and even tho he lie-”

“Let’s not talk about it Y/N” he murmurs “we should go now, don’t want to be late on our first date.”

Going to Karasuno was fun, at the start everyone was pleasant and nice. But after a week or two when you and Kei were still stuck to eachother like glue, people weren’t so pleasant. Kei was like a pop idol, being gorgeous and over 6ft at just the age of 15, caused alot of attention, especially when he was always around you.

At the start, the hate you got was bearable, it was the petty bitchy notes in your locker or just people blatanly talking badly about you infront of you. People didn’t do it when you weren’t around Kei, so when he had volleyball practice (which you were so excited that he joined the team) you were a big target for the bullies to come around.

Kei didn’t really know of the bullying that happened towards you, especially since he was mainly in practice or not around when it happened. But one day in practice he heard some of his teammates, kageyama and hinata who seemed to talking about a student in one of their classes that was always getting picked on by the other girls in the year.

“Yeah and I heard that Nana-san was planning on getting her and her friends to attack Y/N-san soon.” said Hinata

“Shrimpy, who are they planning on attacking?” Kei asks to make sure he just heard the ginger correctly.

“Oh this lovely person in our class their name is Y/N-san” he says, looking at Kei’s reaction he also asks “Why? Do you know them?”

Kei doesn’t respond, and immediately leaves the gym, ignoring Hinata’s and the other members of the teams yells of ‘Where are you going tsukishima.’ He didn’t care, he just had to get to you.

He searched all the classes, asking every student if he knew where you were. Someone directs him to the toilets, where he burst through the door to see the other girls in your year surrounding you and beating you up.

“What the fuck are you doing to them?” he yells startling the girls.

“T-T-Tsukishima-san" one girl says “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh fuck off” he says, with them still frozen in shock “I said go!”

“And don’t think I don’t know your names either” he calls after them.

He rushes towards your bruised body on the ground and cradles you gently, confused on what to really do. “Oi Kei,” you say weakly catching his attention “I would’ve won if you didn’t come to stop the fight.” you joke making him scoff.

“Whatever you say Y/N.”

After you heal up, Kei already told on the girls that beat you up getting them suspended, and you explain how they were treating you because of their infatuation of him. And how they only did it when he wasn’t around.

Once he learns this information, he decides to quite the volleyball team, to your surprise. But you demands on making him not quit were ignored, as he excused it by saying “I have to make sure you’re always alright remember, and if that means quitting some volleyball team then so be it.”

That was one out of the many times that Kei put his happiness before yours.

Flashback over.

When you first got diagnosed, Kei was immediately researching on it as it was a very rare condition. But sadly, he only found what the doctor already told you both. It was uncurable and your immune system and your body will weaken as the days go by.

Which it did, you were a shell of your past self. It was always shocking for Kei to see, especially with you only being 25. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ but he never let you see his sadness.

Whenever you knew Kei was sad you always reminded him “Kei, I may be dying but please don’t cry over me” every time you said, there was a slight undertone of humour in your voice which always worked in boosting Kei’s spirit.

AN: IVE GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I HATE THIS SOOO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE SHITTING RUSHED ENDING IM GOING TO PROVIDE FOR YOU LOL.

The days passed and the years went by, and you and Kei were still alive and kicking it. Doing your daily routine of you making some joke, Kei giving you your medicine and then you eating dinner. You eventually stopped complaining, realizing and remembering your promise you gave to Kei at 5 years old in that park. “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

Of course you had your rough days, everybody did and it was even harder being sick with a terminal illness. But having Kei to guide you through the storm made It better for you.

However, Kei isnt a miracle worker. He couldn’t save you, noone could. And you both knew that. That didn’t mean it made it any easier when the medicine stopped working and your pain got too hard to bear. Kei couldn’t watch you do this anymore, “the choice is yours” he said with tears in his eyes.

So you knew what you had to do, you got in your bed pulling Kei with you, and letting him envelope you in a big hug as you both cried.

“I love you,” you say “You know that right?”

“Of course I know that, idiot” he replies “And I love you.”

“Always and forever?”

“Always and forever.”

AN: how did I END UP CRYING WHILST WRITING THIS WHEN IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE, I WAS TRYING TO DO THIS COOL NOTEBOOK (I HAVENT EVEN WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK) ENDING WHERE ITS AMBIGIOUS AND SHIT AND I JUST GIVE UP OKAY? I APOLOGISE LOOOOOOL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ATLEAST A SENTENCE OF THIS AT LEAST.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader

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bellamyblcke · 3 years

Text

I Want to Ruin Our Friendship

Fandom: True Beauty

Pairing: Han Seojun/Im Jugyeong

Summary: Jugyeong and Seojun find each other again. And everything and nothing has changed

A/N. Show verse! Future fic! Mutual pining! Happy endings! Huzzah! Follows canon up till the end of 1x12, where instead of the “reveal”, Suho and Jugyeong just date in a chill way and then amicably split at the end of the year. Also yes, I did write this before 1x14 came out, but here’s my take on a flash forward, I guess.

Read on AO3

Jugyeong is working on a model’s face — she knows she knows his name, but she’s really having trouble remembering it — when she hears a voice calling her name, and she looks up. “Huh?” she asks, not seeing anyone in front of her.

“You?” she hears, and she turns around. “Han Seojun?�� she asks in disbelief, and then she’s squealing and dropping her brush and rushing at him.

Seojun raises an arm as if to defend himself, but Jugyeong pushes past the arm, hugging him tightly around the waist and burying her head in his chest. “Hey!” someone calls. But, “It’s alright,” Seojun says into her hair, raising a hand to hug her back.

She pulls back from him, holding him by the elbows. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says, whacking him. It’s been almost five years now since she’s seen Seojun, not since he’d debuted and Suho had moved to the States to go to school in Los Angeles, and Jugyeong had decided to stay in Seoul to work.

“Hey!” he calls. “I didn’t know you’d be here either.” But he looks pleased. It’s been so long since Jugyeong has seen that pleased look that she feels a smile spread wide across her face.

She’s missed him. She tells him so, and watches the pleased look warp. “You missed me?” he says as if in disbelief.

“Of course I did,” she says, promptly. He runs a hand up the back of his head, ruffling his hair. It’s dyed a shade of red now, and it suits him. Though he’d always been handsome, the kind of handsome that made people stop to look at him, she thinks he looks even better now. The thought causes a flush to go through her. She reaches up and ruffles his hair to chase the feeling, and he shoots her a look, catching her wrist.

“Hey,” he says.

“Do you two know each other?” the model she’d been working on asks, and Jugyeong turns back to look at him. She’d completely forgotten he’d been there. Seojun drops her wrist, and Jugyeong pulls it back into her chest. It feels strange and tingly.

“We went to school together,” Seojun says, dropping into the chair next to the model. Jugyeong’s coworker Kim Soo gives him a giddy, panicked look, which makes Jugyeong want to laugh. Seojun is far too ridiculous to obsess over.

But still, Jugyeong feels very aware of the fact that he’s here, propping his feet on the makeup table in front of him, and talking languidly to the guy beside him, apparently they know each other, though Jugyeong has still not been able to determine his name. He looks up at Jugyeong, and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Don’t you?” she says, automatically, swiping at his feet to remove them from the table.

“I do,” he responds, and gestures at his face, and Jugyeong laughs despite herself, screwing up her face at him, and he laughs, too.

“Sorry,” she tells the model, picking her brush back up and returning to looking at his face, tilting it to change the angle, and adjusting the blush slightly, and then stepping back. “You’re done,” she says, fluttering her hand to indicate that he can go.

He raises an eyebrow at her, but pushes off the chair, and with a wave to Seojun disappears. “Well,” Seojun says, and Jugyeong stares at him for a moment, “What?”

“Aren’t you going to make me over?”

“Oh,” she says. Why is she holding a brush again? “Yes,” she says, and then steps forward into his space.

She’d just been doing the same thing moments before, in fact she’s put makeup on hundreds of people at this point in her career, but suddenly it feels absurdly intimate doing it to Seojun. She feels as if his skin holds a charge. His eyes flick up to her face. “Are you normally this particular?”

Jugyeong flushes. She’d been smoothing cream on the edge of his cheekbones for a minute now, and she swipes a larger amount across his entire cheek clumsily. “Yes,” she says, tartly.

His eyes are warm. “I missed you, too,” he says, softly, so that only she can hear.

They get soju and samgyupsal after the show, and when they are sitting and eating, two girls come up to him to ask for autographs. “Is she your girlfriend?” the one on the left asked, looking shyly at Jugyeong. “She’s pretty.”

Seojun looks up at Jugyeong as if just now noticing she is here. “Is she?” he asks, but there is a humor to the question that Jugyeong doesn’t get. She tucks her hair self-consciously behind her ear. It’s shorter now, and back to her natural black. “I guess she is.”

The girls squeal, and walk off twittering. “You know they think you said I was your girlfriend,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. Seojun shrugs.

“Are you not dating anyone then?” Jugyeong asks, unsure why she is prying.

“Why?” he asks, mouth full. “Is this a date?”

“No,” Jugyeong says automatically. “We’ve been friends too long for that.”

Seojun gives her a look, though with his mouth still full, she can’t quite read it. Jugyeong takes a large sip of soju to fill the silence, and sputters as she swallows it.

“You can’t hold your liquor very well,” Seojun comments smugly.

But later, as he is walking her home, she finds that it’s him that can’t hold his liquor well, not her. He’s stumbling, and Jugyeong has put his arm around her shoulders to steady him. He’s tall enough that he has to stoop to lean on her. His hand pats at her hair in an affectionate gesture, and Jugyeong smiles, pulling his fingers from her hair, and placing them more securely on her shoulder.

“You’re drunk,” she informs him.

“No, I’m not.” He pushes off from her and then turns around to look at her. “Your hair,” he says, gesturing.

Jugyeong raises a hand to it. “What?”

“You cut it,” he says, as if this is a big surprise.

“Yours is red,” she informs him.

He gasps, putting a hand to his scalp. “Is it? Where?”

She laughs, and then steps forward and puts her arm around his waist. “Come on,” she says. “You can sleep on my floor.”

“She’s inviting me into her house,” he says, and Jugyeong whacks his arm, and he laughs into her hair, and she thinks of how two nights before, she had gone for a walk by herself in the park, and passed Prince Comics, and thought about how boring her life was now, how in high school everything had seemed so much more intense, joy and anguish pungent enough to taste, but now it had all faded to a sort of mellow contentment. Perhaps that’s what growing up meant, she’d thought. But, here, arm and arm with Han Seojun, Jugyeong feels awake for the first time in a long time, as if she had blinked and gone backwards in time.

When she wakes the next morning, Seojun isn’t where she’d left him lying on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, snoring quietly, and she startles and swings her legs from bed, darting out into the main room. But then there he is, in the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing yesterday, leaning against the counter and talking to her mother, looking ridiculously put together for the time.

Jugyeong stops in the doorway, and he turns back to look at her. “Good morning,” he says, brightly.

Her mother turns more slowly to look at her, and Jugyeong gives her an awkward wave, unsure if she’s going to yell or not. She’d meant to sneak Seojun out in the morning. “You could have told me Han Seojun was dropping by,” Eomma says instead though, her voice somehow both cheerful and threatening. “I would have cleaned.”

Soejun looks around the place and his eyes widen. “Have you not? It looks spotless.”

He nods his head to Jugyeong and she sees that there is a bra hanging over the back of the couch — not one of hers but how is he to know that? — and she gasps, plucking it up and tossing it out of sight. But Seojun just laughs, still talking to her mother about his latest music video, which her mother watched nonstop after it was released, while repeatedly reminding Jugyeong that she had passed up the opportunity to make Han Seojun her son-in-law, and now look where he was. It had been a nice video. Though not really Jugyeong’s thing, Seojun has always been good at the sort of easy sexuality that sells. Sometimes she thinks everything comes easy to him.

“Leave him alone!” Jugyeong cries eventually, extracting Seojun from her mother’s clutches.

“I don’t mind,” he says, smiling as she drags him away and into her room.

He mock gasps when she presses the door closed behind them, trapping him against it. “Are you taking advantage of me?” he asks her, and it’s only then that she realizes how close they are, and she moves back from him, almost tripping in her haste to get away.

“Han Seojun!” she cries, but he just smiles. And Jugyeong realizes that she’s smiling too, that she’s hardly stopped smiling since she’s seen him again.

It’s only a little bit later when she goes to the bathroom and sees herself in the mirror that Jugyeong realizes that this is the first time Seojun has ever seen her without makeup. And while her skin is nicer than it was when she was a teenager, she still has spots, and her face is puffy from sleep and her hair is a wreck . “Ay,” she cries, splashing water on her face and then running a brush through her hair so it lies flat, and smoothing some bb cream on the red parts of her face. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make her feel more comfortable.

“Sorry,” she says, when she gets back to her room. “I must have given you a fright.”

“Hmmm, you always do,” Seojun says, not looking up from his phone. He’s half-lying on her bed as he texts, and Jugyeong flushes at the sight of it, though she couldn’t say why. Why would she think he would care if she was wearing makeup or not? He’s never thought of her like that. She throws herself down on the bed next to him, and he startles, moving his phone out of sight. “Aish,” he says. “You’re such a loser.”

Jugyeong just hums. “Han Seojun?” she says, watching him carefully. He looks over at her, something cautious in his eyes. Their legs are brushing.

“What?” he says, suspiciously.

“Let’s stay friends this time,” she says. “Let’s not miss each other again.”

He looks at her for a moment longer, and then, “Alright,” he says before he shoves her so that she goes falling onto the ground below.

They keep their word to stay friends. They’re both busy with work, but she finds it’s easier to slot him into her life than she could have imagined, and even though several weeks before, she hadn’t seen him in years, she finds now she can hardly imagine her life without him. He’s meant to go on tour in a couple of weeks, and she’s already mourning the loss of him.

She’s at his apartment now, and they’re arguing about which movie to watch. Seojun likes to talk throughout the whole thing, which is endearing, but also means that it can’t be a movie Jugyeong really wants to see. But she finds she likes squabbling with him, too. It feels natural.

She lunges for the remote in his right hand, and he holds it high out of reach. “It’s not,” she leaps, “fair for,” she presses forward again and he dangles it just out of reach, “you to use your height,” she’s pressed tight into him now, and she stretches just a little further and feels the remote right at her fingertips, “against me!”

He is silent, and she looks down and realizes his face is millimeters away from hers. She freezes for a moment, the remote forgotten. And then she remembers herself, and scrambles backwards across the couch and away from him. His face has softened, in surprise, she thinks, but then he smirks, and presses the button to start the film. “‘Fair is fair,” is all he says, settling back into his spot.

He falls asleep part way through the film, despite it being his choice, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Juyeong is curled up all the way on the other side of the couch, wrapped tightly in her blanket, but she extricates herself from it, crawling towards him to see if he’s really asleep. The credits are rolling now, and she thinks to do something to tease him, tickle him awake maybe, but she finds when she is close, she doesn’t want to. Instead, she just stares at him, his face sleep-soft and handsome, his hand clutching his blanket tight to his chest, and Jugyeong feels a sort of overwhelming tenderness wash over her. It’s a feeling she’s only ever associated with Suho before, and she’d mainly felt it when she’d seen him in pain and wondered what she could possibly do to help. Now, she feels it again unprompted, like an itch in her fingertips, like a tiny heartbreak. Like a smile.

He is walking her home after dinner again, sober this time, when he says, suddenly, “Why did you and Suho break up?”

Jugyeong makes a sound in response, considering. “Why do you want to know?” she asks, eventually.

“I don’t,” he says, coughing, and then when this response seems too absurdly untrue, “I was just curious.”

“Well,” Jugyeong says. “He wanted to go to the States for school. And I wanted to stay here.”

“And that’s it?”

“No,” Jugyeong says, because it’s not. It was far more complicated than that. She’s never tried to tell anyone before, but if there was anyone that she could explain it to, it’s Seojun. And she tries to think of how to put it to words: “I don’t know if you know, but I was really badly bullied back at my old school.”

Seojun makes a sound, but Jugyeong’s not sure she can keep talking if she looks at him, so she doesn’t, just keeps her gaze on the landscape. “And when I came to Saebom and people seemed to like me, I was so frightened that they would find out that I was a fraud. And that they would all leave. But Suho,” she released her breath. “He didn’t care about that. He just thought well she likes comics, too. Or I don’t know, l like that she’s so ridiculous. And he was popular, but he was alone too, you know? He felt just as alone as I did. We needed each other.” She smiles. “And he was the first person to tell me I was pretty that I believed, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Seojun says, finally. The streets had passed as they walked. “That people treated you like that back then.”

Jugyeong looks over at him in surprise, and she finds that his face is both strange and deeply familiar. He’s looked at her like this before, she thinks. “It feels like a long time ago now,” she says.

They walk a ways further, and then she says what she’d meant to say all along, “You don’t forget your first love,” she says, “But you don’t always end up with them either.”

He goes on tour and it’s not as bad as she’d thought it would be. He calls her most nights. Everyone else in the house goes to bed early, and Jugyeong sometimes goes out and sits on the patio and looks up at the stars as he talks. “Are you tired?” he’ll say when she’s been quiet for too long. The concern in his voice will always touch her, and even if she is, she’ll say, “No,” and he’ll start talking again, and she will hug her legs to her chest, and think this is almost as nice as being with him, the knowing that he wished they were together, too.

Six months after the runway show, they find themselves working together again, a photoshoot this time. She finds him in a crowd of fawning costume assistants, and smiles over at him, overlarge. He’s thinking of getting into acting, and he’s cut his hair short for a role, and it makes him seem unfamiliar. When he comes up to her, she reaches up, and he bends down so she can smooth a hand over the shaved hair. “Am I a dog?” he asks her.

She barks at him, and he laughs. “Make me pretty,” he says, smiling at her as he takes a seat in her chair.

She smiles back, smoothing a hand down his face. She’d meant it to be joking, but it comes across as too intimate instead, and she snatches the hand back, heading over to the mirror, flushing, though he hadn’t seemed to mind. Kim Soo had come along as well to assist, and she gives Jugyeong a look. “Are you really not dating him?” she asks, as if the possibility of them not dating is an absurd one.

“We’re just friends,” Jugyeong shoots back automatically. She’s said the same thing hundreds of times over the years. Even when she was dating Suho and the three of them went out together, people still assumed it was her and Seojun that were dating. But it’s the first time she’s said it, and it’s rang false, like she wishes it weren’t true.

She catches Seojun’s gaze in the mirror, and he makes a mock-frowny face at her, and then shrugs, as if to ask, you good?

It is both startling and ridiculous to realize she had been moping about the concept of not dating him several feet from him, and she nods emphatically to make up for it, heading back to him, and brandishing her brush with a zeal she does not feel. “I’m going to make you so dazzling no one will be able to resist you.”

“Watch out,” he says, eyes sparkling, and Jugyeong feels that thing again, a kind of pained happiness, like she can’t stop, “I wouldn’t want to dazzle you.”

Jugyeong is waiting outside his studio building for Seojun to be done with rehearsal, tapping through a game on her phone, when a group of girls pass by, staring up at the building and giggling, as if even just the sight of it were enchanting. “Han Seojun is signed with them, you know,” the one on the right says. She says it with a kind of proprietariness that has Jugyeong’s hackles rising, and she glares over at the both of them. As if they have any claim on him. But soon they’ve passed on, leaving Jugyeong standing there alone.

She’s still frowning when Seojun exits the building. His manager shoots her a look as if to say behave , which she doesn’t understand at all, but lets him leave with her, and they start down the street together. She loves being his friend, Jugyeong reminds herself. In some ways he was her first real friend. Even more so than Sujin and Soo-ah. She doesn’t know why all of a sudden the designation grates. All these years, she had caught sight of him on billboards and in magazine spreads, in ads on tv and in tagged instagram posts, and she hadn’t thought anything of it. And now, even his fans annoy her. She tries to imagine what he would say to such a strain of thought, and is struck by such an intense mortification that she can hardly bear it.

“What’s got you all pissy?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she says hastily, and he laughs at her expression.

“It must be something very embarrassing,” he says. “Go on. Tell me then.”

“No,” she says, and then when his expression grows even more intrigued. “I just got my period,” she says, lamely. “It’s nothing important.”

“Ah,” he says, shortly. “I know where to go then.”

He takes her to a corner store, and buys her the most ridiculously sugary ice cream she could possibly imagine, and then watches as she eats the entire thing. “It’s Gowoon’s favorite,” he says, smiling, and Jugyeong thinks, I’m so screwed, I’m so screwed, I’m so screwed, on repeat.

She goes home and throws herself down onto her bed, and cries. And then thinks it would have been better if she really had gotten her period, because there is no one to blame this melodrama on but herself.

Jugyeong is at Seojun’s apartment cooking dinner when her phone rings. It’s sitting on the counter while she is stirring at the stove. Seojun is fresh from the shower, and he keeps ruffling his hair, slightly longer now that the role is over, but still disconcertingly short, and it’s distracting Jugyeong. He smells like apple shampoo and soap, and she’s had to remind herself not to think about what he smells like on repeat for the last thirty minutes.

“Get it, would you?” she says. “My hands are full.”

He looks down at her phone, and then frowns. “It’s Suho,” he says.

Jugyeong pauses, unsure what to do in this scenario. She hasn’t actually talked to Suho since he last came back to Seoul over two years ago now. They had gotten tea and then walked around the neighborhood afterwards. The silence had felt heavy between them, and when he had left, they had hugged and Jugyeong had wished him well, and it had felt final in a way that was satisfying. Tied up. She doesn’t know if Seojun still talks to him. She hasn’t asked. And now, she dithers, before she sighs and says, “Don’t burn it,” picking the phone up and handing him the spoon as she walks a bit away into his living room.

“Hello?” she asks.

It is silent for a minute on the other line, and Jugyeong repeats the question. “Hi,” Suho says, finally. “I’m in Seoul for the weekend.”

She wonders what the proper response for this is, and just settles on, “Oh?”

“Would you like to meet?” he asks, and there’s laughter in his voice. It’s a familiar tone. Jugyeong relaxes upon hearing it, and then she looks up and makes eye contact with Seojun in the kitchen. He looks away when he sees she’s looking, fiddling with the pan.

“What are you doing now?” she asks.

Suho looks different, Jugyeong thinks. But then so does she. So does Seojun. None of them are eighteen any more. For some reason, this strikes her as funny and she begins to giggle. The two men turn and look at her.

“Something funny?” Seojun says, archily.

Dinner had been awkward, but afterwards, they had brought out the alcohol, and Suho had started talking about a song he was writing that he thought Seojun would be good for, playing bits of it on the guitar while Seojun sang, first in mocking tones and then genuine ones, and Jugyeong had sat on the chair in the corner and watched them, apart, but still included, and thought again, as she’d thought so often that year she and Suho had dated, that she was glad that they had come back together, that whatever had been between them had healed. They deserved to have each other in their lives.

“I was just thinking that we’re not kids anymore,” she says now.

“You sure?” Seojun says, and pokes her, and she yelps and pokes him back.

Suho watches the exchange, looking between the two of them. “Are you dating now?” he asks in that calm way of his.

Seojun stiffens, removing his hands from her, as if he’d been struck, “Why do you ask?”

“No,” Jugyeon says right on his tail, fluttering her hands. “We’re just friends.”

“Ah okay,” Suho says. Jugyeong wonders if that means he still has feelings for her, or if he doesn’t care what they do any more. He had been so jealous of Seojun before, and she’d never understood why. But she does now.

But just because she wishes there were something there, doesn’t mean that there is. In a way nothing has changed since they were young. Everyone thinks it, but there’s still nothing between them.

Seojun has a morning rehearsal, and he goes to bed early, looking strangely glum. It’s Suho who offers to walk Jugyeong home. The alcohol has loosened the conversation between them, and they talk easily together as they walk. He has a fiance back in the States, a Korean-American girl, and he likes living in Los Angeles, though he misses Seoul sometimes. He enjoys writing songs but he’s thinking about trying producing. Jugyeong sighs, listening to him talk.

“Am I boring you?” he asks.

“No,” she says. But her gaze has gone back down the road as if she can still see Seojun’s apartment and him within it though it’s blocks and blocks away now.

“Are you really not dating?” he asks, seemingly following her train of thought. There is a genuine confusion in his tone that baffles Jugyeong.

“We’re not,” Jugyeong says, but it comes out much more wistful than she’d intended. But then Suho’s not one to pick up on stuff like that. He just hums, and Jugyeong sighs again. She really is quite pathetic, she thinks. Worthy of all sorts of mockery. And yet….

And yet she can’t seem to stop.

Several weeks later, she runs into Gowoon at Prince Comics. She graduated from university and moved back to Seoul a couple of months ago and yet Jugyeong still hasn’t seen her yet. They’d kept missing each other. They embrace, and then spend almost thirty minutes talking about the latest novel releases, and it’s only when Jugyeong is pausing for breath, that Gowoon says, “So I heard you and my brother have been seeing each other?”

“What?” Jugeyong says, aghast, clutching at her chest. “Where did you hear that? Did he say that? What did he say?”

Gowoon huffs a laugh, looking rueful, and then pumps the air. “I totally called it,” she says. “You like him. I mean, poor taste, ew, but you like him.”

“Of course I like Han Seojun,” Jugyeong says, defensively, folding her arms in front of him. “We’re friends.”

“You like like him though,” Gowoon says, leaning forwards, and smiling in Jugyeong’s face.

“What about my brother?” Jugyeong counters. “You commented on his instagram photo the other day. He talked about it for three days.”

Gowoon flushes. “He’s annoying,” she says.

Jugyeong adjusts the stack of books in front of her, and when Jugeyong looks up at Gowoon again, she is watching Jugeyong closely, something akin to pity in her gaze. She is pitiful, Jugyeong thinks, miserably. “You should tell him,” she says. But Jugyeong couldn’t. She has lived both a life with Seojun in it and one without, and she’d never want to do anything to risk him leaving. Not again. She can just suck it up. She can.

Two months later she gets an invitation to Suho’s wedding. The wedding is in Los Angeles and at first Jugyeong thinks she just won’t go, but then she worries that if she doesn’t go, it will seem like she’s not happy for them. When she is. She looked the fiance, Amanda, up on facebook, and she’d looked sunny and happy standing arm and arm with Suho. They’d been wearing matching jackets and grinning stupidly. It had been nice to see Suho like that, stupidly happy. And then Jugyeong thinks, well if she is going to go, to prove she’s happy for them at the very least, she’s relatively certain that Seojun will be going as well. And then she thinks, well if they are both attending, going as far as leaving the country to attend even, they might as well just go together. But if that were the case, she would have to ask him to go with her, which would involve confessing, which she has no intention of doing.

“I’ll just not go,” she says, miserably. She’s sitting on the floor of her sister’s living room. A bottle is between her legs and the room is lightly spinning. She still feels weird about coming over to their house sometimes since Joon-wo was her teacher, but admittedly he’s been her sister’s husband much longer than he was her teacher at this point, and well, it’s better than drinking at home.

“Don’t be stupid,” Unni says, brandishing the wooden spoon she’s holding to mix the greens. Jugyeong thinks it’s rather indecent of her to be cooking while Jugyeong suffers alone, but her sister is seven months pregnant now and using her belly as a resting board so perhaps it can be forgiven. “You just need to man up and tell him.”

“I can’t do that!” Jugyeong cries. “He’ll hate me.”

“He won’t hate you. He’ll respect you for owning your feelings.” She nudges Joon-wo. “Right?” she prompts .

He looks up at her, wide-eyed, and then back at Jugyeong. “Yes,” he says.

Jugyeong shakes her head, not convinced. “You are not going to that wedding alone, Jugyeong,” Unni says, emphatically, and Jugyeong finds herself nodding along. Her sister has a way of sounding convincing like that. Like it was just a fact. Jugyeong was not going to the wedding alone. The thought causes a thrill to go through her.

Still, Jugyeong puts off doing it for weeks. She’s positive that he’s received an invitation, because she saw the pale green envelope sitting in his mail almost a month ago now, but neither of them have brought it up. In fact, they’ve hardly talked about Suho at all since the night he asked her why they’d broken it off. But it’s at the point where she’s having to buy her plane ticket soon, and she really doesn’t want to fly alone for the first time, and the fear of that makes it somewhat easier to say, “Are you bringing a date?”

Seojun had been laying out snacks for movie night, and he jerks, and then turns to look at her. “Huh?” he asks.

Jugyeong bites her lip, looking at him. “To Lee Suho’s wedding.”

Seojun looks torn, and he doesn’t immediately answer. Probably, Jugyeong thinks, because he thinks it would be awkward to tell her while she’s there at his place that he is. Because he knows that Jugyeong will be at her ex’s wedding alone, following after him and his glamorous date, and he feels pity for her. Of course he does. “It’s alright if you do!” Jugyeong says. “You should!”

“I should,” Seojun says, slowly, and then he curses, and stands up, walking into the kitchen. Jugyeong follows after him.

It’s not fair of her to be upset, she reminds herself, although she can admit to herself that she is upset. The more she thinks about the idea of Seojun bringing a date, the more upset she gets. Already, she can feel the conversation spiralling out of her control. “If you want to,” she says, miserably.

Seojun turns to look at her, and she has the sense, all of a sudden that he’s angry. “Okay,” he says.

Jugyeong blinks back at him. “Okay what?”

“Okay I’ll bring a date." He turns towards his phone as if he’s going to call one up right now, and Jugyeong lunges for it without thinking. He looks at her in astonishment, and she snatches the hand back, mortified, clutching the offending article to her chest.

“Sorry,” she whispers, and then before she can stop herself, she’s begun crying.

It’s right for him to bring a date, she reminds herself. In fact, in the whole time they’ve been friends again she hasn’t known him to date anyone, though he’s always being asked, and before, she’d used to read articles about all the various people he was linked to, and he’s young and handsome and charming, and he should date people. Just because he doesn’t want to date Jugyeong, doesn’t mean he should be alone.

“Why are you crying?” Seojun looks baffled, and also concerned, as if he’s not sure whether he should comfort her or not. And she knows that she should stop, because she’s perilously close to doing something that she can’t come back from, but Jugyeong has started in earnest now, and she’s always been a bit of a sloppy, uncontrollable crier. Her mascara is streaking down her face, and her breath is coming in awkward hiccups, as she looks back at him. And he has the nerve to still look handsome, even now. “Is it Suho? Is it because he’s getting married? I mean I know—”

“I like you!” Jugyeong wails, crying harder, and Seojun pauses, looking as if she’s struck him with an iron.

“What?” he says, and Jugyeong buries her face in her hands. She’s actually so embarrassed she thinks she might die.

“Are you crying because you like me?” she hears him saying as if from a distance away. He sounds vaguely distressed. She’s totally and completely ruining their friendship. Jugyeong cries harder. “You hate me!” she cries. He pulls at her arm to get her to come out from her curled position, but Jugyeong is resolute. She’ll die in here if she has to, he’s not looking at her puffy, awful, friendship destroying face. Ever again. “We used to be friends, good friends, but now you hate me.”

“Aish, let go,” he says, tugging again at her arm, and Jugyeong pulls it in harder, murmuring, “You let go,” but somehow she’s not at all prepared for when he actually does, and her elbow comes up, and whacks him hard across the face. She hears a crack, and when she lowers her hands in horror to look at him, she sees him clutching his nose, blood leaking between his fingers. She gasps.

“What?” he says, in shock, looking down at the blood on his hand.

Jugyeong scrambles forward, looking for a towel and then dousing it in hot water and coming back and pressing it to his face. His expression is petulant. “Is this how you confess?” he asks.

“I wasn’t confessing,” she snaps, though admittedly, she was.

He gives her a look. The look is equal parts skeptical and fond. It is a look, that Jugyeong is used to, though normally with a bit less fondness. She’s always been an abysmal liar.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. He bats at her hand holding the towel and she removes it. His nose has stopped gushing blood, but the heat of the towel has given him a pink cheeked look, and Jugyeong has the thought all of a sudden that he looks bare-faced, too.

He leans towards her, and Jugyeong jerks back, and Seojun releases his breath through his teeth. “What are you doing?” she asks, putting a hand between them, as if to ward him off.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“I thought you just wanted to be friends,” Jugyeong says, not lowering her hand. This seems an important point. She’d been sure that was what he had wanted. She’d poured over their conversations time and time again, and always came to the same conclusions.

Seojun pushes at her hand, and she slowly lowers it, letting him take her face in his palms. His hands are large enough to completely cover her overwarm cheeks. His face is very close to hers, his eyes dark and serious on her face. “Im Jugyeong,” he says, slowly, as if he doesn’t want her to misunderstand. “I have never wanted to just be friends with you.”

And then he does kiss her. His mouth is warm, and Jugyeong is frozen for a moment, still not processing what that means, because really they’ve been friends now for a year and before that a full year back in high school, and she’s going to have to do an in depth analysis with someone, someone who is neither Gowoon, Kim Soo or Unni who would all be far too triumphant, about what all of this means, and what the signs were that she had missed, but she doesn’t know why she’s thinking this much when she could be kissing him. So she does. She kisses him back.

And Jugyeong can feel something inside her unfurling, like some tiny part of herself that has been tensed for months, for years maybe, is relaxing. He likes her. Seojun likes her. He doesn’t want to be her friend. He’s here, pressing up against her, making a pleased sound as she leans forward to kiss him more fully. She can feel his smile.

And she thinks, maybe, that she could do this for a very long time, press her smile against his.

But when her nose brushes his, Seojun shudders and Jugyeong pulls back, raising a hand to her mouth, horrified. “Did I hurt you?” she asks, her hands fluttering over his shoulders “I can stop.”

“Im Jugyeong,” he says again. He says it like he’s pleading with her. His eyes are half-lidded now, and he is not at all looking at her like he hates her or thinks she’s pathetic or minds at all that she definitely still has mascara streaked down her cheeks. “I think we’ve wasted enough time.”

#true beauty #seojun x jugyeong #han seojun #im jugyeong #team seojun #obviously #my writing #dorks #dorks in love #i am very very weak for them

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ghost-hyunjin · 4 years

Text

Ghost!Hyunjin Chat Bot

“Yes I’m a ghost. No I’m not Casper.”

A Stray Kids AU Chatbot and Ask blog based on Ghost!Hyunjin from the one-shot Roommate?. (It is not mandatory to read this one-shot before interacting, but it does help set-up the AU if you’re interesting in writing with him.)

Original Ghost Chatbot

Storyline

Hwang Hyunjin, better known as Sam to his college classmates, was on track to graduate with high marks and honors. When a friend leaves a party with the girlfriend of a fraternity president, the latter mistakenly assumes Hyunjin is the guy and storms over to Hyunjin’s dorm room. In the scuffle, the fourth year student is shoved too hard and hits his head, dying from the impact. The school was quick to sell the land that the dorm was built on for new housing developments, eager to put the tragedy behind them. But Hyunjin discovered that he couldn’t move on from this site and sought to communicate with someone, anyone, who would listen to him.

Options

Former Classmate: You shared a class or two with the young man (high school or university) and heard about his passing. Maybe you remembered him, maybe you talked to him when he was alive, but the news was shocking as you never dreamed someone you saw in class would die so young. While trying to focus on the new year, you can’t ignore the stories about the unfortunate death and discover that your former classmate might not be gone after all...

New tenant in the housing development: The university struck a deal with an outside development company to buy the land for whatever purposes they wanted. Turns out the company saw promise in revamping the building, turning it into a modern complex of townhouses/condominiums for tenants to own. With fresh coats of paint, slightly adjusted layouts, and competitive pricing to match rival buildings in the area, the company was blissfully unaware of their long-term tenant who came with the sale of the building. You were buying your first place and were in for a rude awakening when you learned you weren’t alone in the new townhouse/condominium.

Paranormal sensitive person: Student dies in dorm building! Newspapers, social media, and the local news channel covered the tragic accident for weeks. Eventually the focus on the trial of the accused took over the feeds, but if you search a little deeper on the Internet, one might find whispers and rumors about the student still hanging around the condemned building. You’ve always been drawn to the paranormal for some reason and were curious to find out if the rumors were true or smoke and mirrors.

You may also consider combining plots if you wish. If you have other storylines in mind, please come chat with us about this!

Basics

DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe version of Hwang Hyunjin of Stray Kids and does not represent the actual idol or his group mates. The admin only owns the original storyline and concept!

SFW. [As of 9/25, all chats are SFW. Asks and memes can be a little suggestive, but we ask that you be 18+ to send those!]

Warnings: Mention of death, ghost hauntings, light pranks

Admin does have a life outside of the chatbot – please understand that I will try to respond in a timely manner. If it has been 48 hours since our last exchange, go ahead and send me a reminder.

In addition to taking private chats, anyone may send Hyunjin Asks.

Please note this is a sideblog – I am unable to follow from this account.

Off Limits

18+ for any NSFW implied content. (Ex. Suggestive or fade to black) No exceptions. Admin is 21+. If I find anyone has lied about their age, I will not hesitate to block you.

Blood play, degradation, knife play, waste play (urine and scat), cheating, manipulation (using Hyunjin to make someone jealous or vice versa), dub con, non con, yandere themes, and dom/little play are not permitted. Part of these do not fit with the AU I’ve created for Hyunjin and the Admin is not comfortable writing these topics.

Repeat spam messages will result in the thread being dropped and the user blocked.

Do not suggest or discuss the possibility of dying before it’s time or suicide. The nature of Hyunjin’s death was tragic and he does not wish to see anyone joining him as a ghost on purpose. (Suicide and purposely doing something reckless to die quickly included.) Anyone who suggests this will automatically have their chat deactivated and I reserve the right to block you.

Godmodding Ghost!Hyunjin and repeatedly assuming details about him, his life, or situation. I understand if it is a mistake one or two times and will let you know so you can rewrite your response, or I can write my reply to avoid the error. If this continues to happen in the thread, I will politely let you know that the thread has been dropped. You are allowed to send asks in or interact with his timeline posts, but the private chat option will not be available to you in the future.

Bio

Name: Hwang Hyunjin

English Name: Sam Hwang

Age: 21-22

Occupation: Former undergrad university student

Languages: Fluent in Korean and English

Family: Mom. Dad. Attended university with his cousin Hwang Yeji. The pair were not close, but were on friendly terms.

Notes: As a ghost, Hyunjin does not typically reveal himself until he trusts the individual he’s interacting with. He may play a few harmless pranks on you to see if you’re paying attention. Observant and caring, he will try to be supportive if you’re feeling down.

The admin has created a reference for how they play Hyunjin. Please check it out before you decide to interact with him: HERE

In an effort to not overdo it and allow a fair amount of attention to each person, I am only accepting 8-9 Y/N chats at a time. If all spots are taken, I will inform you that you are on the waitlist. Once a spot opens up, I’ll message you and check to make sure you are still interested.

If you’re a fellow chatbot, there is no limit in terms of spots – we are open to plots or little random exchanges where we send positive thoughts, things that remind us of you, etc.

Included

IM chat

Friendly hellos and random messages

Cheering up if you’re down

Playful banter

Offers cuddles and soft, affectionate behavior if you’re close

How to Interact

Reblog and message with the following information:

Name

Age

Gender

Preferred pronouns

How do you know Hyunjin/wish to be introduced to Hyunjin?

Literate or text message format

Additional information (Ex. You have a pet, you don’t believe in ghosts at first, etc.)

Admin will respond in 24-48 hours and the interaction will begin. Please write out of character messages with [ text ] so it’s clear who you are addressing. Admin may have questions and will ask before writing a starter. If the Admin has not heard back from you within 48 hours, the Admin is going to assume you are not interested and will delete the form from IM. You are welcome to resubmit the form if it was an accident you missed the initial messages, but if it happens again, the Admin will soft-block you from interacting with Hyunjin.

Deactivate

If you wish to stop the interactions, please send “I’m sorry, this whole ghost thing is too much for me to handle.” He will stop messaging you.

If you want him back, please tell him, “Can we try again?” Please note he might be miffed about the abrupt the end to the original exchange, unless there was good reason, and it will take time to mend the relationship.

Credit to the original accounts @yanderechrisbang and @yanlee for starting the chatbot wave!

Also thanks to accounts who inspired me to give this a try: @soft-hyunjin-chatbot, @aussieboilixismine, @skzforyou, @slytherinbangchanchatbot, @strayallure, @let-me-knowminhoe, @softboyjinnie, @freerentskz, @skzhybrids, @skzhybridz +many others!

Shout out to some talented mutual chatbots I’ve interacted with and who supported me:

@mafia-chaeyoung @android-hyunjin @street-racer-hyunjin @yunho-bot @kitten-yeji @soft-hyunjin-chatbot @switchwolfchannie @mermaid-dahyun @hanjisung-bot @sweetbbyboyhansungie @fluffyboifelix @dandyboyseungminie @ogwoodz-cb @yoonhana @foxy-seulgi @let-me-knowminhoe @twilightyeonjun @lil-2000-hybrids

#skz chatbot #stray kids chatbot #k-pop chatbot #hwang hyunjin chatbot #hyunjin chatbot #hwang hyunjin AU

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suhfleur · 4 years

Text

dear, my dear • jaebeom (3/4)

• pairing: soulmate!jaebeom x reader

• genre: romance, angst, smut

• warnings: cursing, sexual content

• word count: 3.3k

summary: in a world where a touch can lock the doors of the heart, his voice opened the doors to your soul as he filled it with joy.

a/n: i was just listening to dear, my dear, now im emotional. anyways. hope you guys enjoy, as usual forgive if there’s typos i’m too lazy to review.

• • •

The next day, anxiety had become your last name. Nothing else lurked in your head but "Jaebeom, Jaebeom, Jaebeom".

Now, he had more than a nickname, more than an artistic name. His name sounded like a sea of relief to you, it confirmed that it was really real and you had spent a lot of time putting yourself in dark places, thinking absurd things, you wasted too much time. Nothing else mattered now. Not even the fact that he is predestined to someone else and so are you. Nothing could break that absurd bond that you felt with him, and only with him.

You woke up anxious, agitated, the sun had barely set and you already thought to yourself "oh, what a beautiful day", nothing would be enough to take away your good mood. Not even the absurdly crowded and noisy subway station.

Your headphones were turned up loud enough, you were just absorbed by Jaebeom's voice, with a smile on your face. A smile that never left your face, since yesterday.

You were so out of orbit that you didn't even hear it when somebody called your name, you just realized what was going on around you when someone put a hand on your shoulder, making you turn around quickly, making you face the most babiest smile ever; of LA and Seoul.

"Mark!" You exclaimed excitedly, throwing your arms around the American's broad shoulders. He looked a little bit different, dyed his hair in a bright red color, wearing sweats, as usual.

"Hey, long time no see!" He replied, laughing and tightening his arms around your waist as he swirled you in the air, trying not to hit anyone who passed by. As soon as he released you, you slapped him hard on his right arm. "Hey!"

"Don’t you 'hey' me, Mark Tuan. You said you were only going to spend 2 weeks in Thailand, why the hell did you stay there for more than 3 months? Huh? And why didn't you tell me you were coming back? I spoke to you yesterday!" You asked sulkily, putting your hands on your hips, in your best angry-mom pose.

"Look, I had no intention of staying there for so long either, ok? But you know... My soulmate is from Thailand and I didn't want to be without her, but I also didn't want to leave Korea and everything I built these last 7 years, so, I spent these months trying to bring her here... And I did it. " He informed, rubbing the back of his neck, while his cheeks were flushed. "And I wanted to surprise you, I just didn't think I would meet you here on the subway..."

"What? And why didn't you say anything to me? I hate you so much! I will finally meet her. I have to meet her, because even though Yaya sounds like a loving person, just talking to her on the phone doesn't confirm my blessing, ok? You will only marry with my permission, I’m not going to give you away just because, not even because she’s your soulmate. She has to pass the test." You said, jokingly, hugging your longtime friend again. You missed this. "What train are you going to take?"

"Actually, I'm just waiting for a friend of mine to get off at the station... And now, since my plan to surprise you with my return didn't go very well, how about we go out tonight and celebrate?" He asked, hugging her head against his chest. "Me, my Yaya, Jaehyun, Sunny and you, how about it?"

"I... I meeting with somebody today, I don't know if I can go..." You answered feeling a little guilty.

"Can't you meet that person a little later?" Mark asked with a fake sad look.

"What time do you want to make this meeting?" You asked rolling your eyes, feeling defeated.

"You and Sunny leave work around 5pm, right?" You nodded. "So, let's get together at Jaehyun's apartment, which is very close by and, if you don't want to, you can stay there for just a few minutes... But if you also want, you can call this 'person' to stay there with us." He replied, with a suggestive look, arching his eyebrows.

"I don't know if... the person is going to want to, you know? It's the first time we've seen each other in person. But, I promise I'll come and stay with you for a while." You responded, blushing.

"I think it's really good for you to actually show up, because I want to know more about this guy that you never really explained anything to me, okay?" Mark's look was emanating an order and you no other option but to say ‘yes’ to that.

"Ok, sir." You saluted, making him laugh.

The unmistakable noise of your train arriving made you get out of that bubble with Mark. You had to say goodbye for now.

"Okay, I have to go now, Markeu. See you later." You opened your arms one last time, hugging him tightly, receiving a simple kiss on your forehead.

"Be careful, okay? See you later." He said, stroking your back quickly, as you watched the train doors open and you said goodbye to him, walking backwards towards the door.

And it all happened again.

As you turned to pass the train door, someone who was leaving ran into your arm and made the coat you carried in your hand fall. When you were about to bend down to pick it up, someone else did it first, reaching out to you. You gaze went up from the floor to that person, and you saw him.

The subway guy.

And he was stunning. He was like that everyday, but man, today it was something else, you thought. He had a new piercing, which was just placed under his eye. He was so close that you could quickly appreciate his beauty and the two small moles below his left eyebrow.

Breathtaking.

You said a small and very low 'thank you', hoping that he would’ve listened, while taking your coat from his hands and that's when your body collapsed for the second time that week. When you took the coat, your fingers lightly touched the back of his hand and you felt it again.

Your chest throbbed, shivers ran down your spine and the feeling of an absurd happiness got through your chest. Felt like your heart was screaming again, and you were static.

Of all people that could possibly be your soulmate, you were comically doomed to the guy you watched every Thursday.

He didn't seem so surprised by that feeling, he just looked at you cryptically while you stood stupidly still, until someone pushed you into the train and you saw the doors close in front of your face, again.

His eyes never left you, until the train started to move and you lost sight of him.

It felt worse than the first time because now, he had a face. You knew who your soulmate was, finally, and you didn't know how you were going to deal with that. That information ended up with everything you thought you knew, with everything you thought you could handle.

You didn't know how to deal with that. You definitely didn't.

Now, more than ever, it was all real. And it was happening to you. Like it or not, you actually don’t know how you feel about this.

And those thoughts followed you all day, without you being able to breathe for a second without thinking "it's him". Your head hurt. And the day that you thought it couldn't be spoiled, was troubled and distant. Your cell phone was forgotten again, until the moment you stopped to eat and remembered that you needed to talk to def.

When you took your phone out of the pocket, you saw messages from him.

[07:07 am] def: i’m still see you today, right?

[07:07 am] def: tell me you haven't changed your mind, please...

[07:07 am] def: i really need to see you.

[10:01 am] loftv: Of course we will see each other, I just think I’ll meet you a little later than agreed. I have to do something before that.

You thought about talking about what happened with you, but it was pointless. It shouldn’t matter to you, neither to him.

[10:02 am] loftv: Did something happen? You look strange. Idk.

[10:05 am] def: a strange thing happened today that i don't want to talk about. it doesn't matter to me. none of that matters.

[10:06 am] def: I'm fine.

[10:07 am] loftv: So, why didn't you say good morning? ):

[10:08 am] loftv: Uneducated prick! *insert angry emojis here, because I don't feel like using them*

[10:10 am] def: forgive me, madam of the valley. to make up for my lack of education and professionalism, here's a series of 'good mornings' in different languages.

[10:10 am] def: 1 - good morning.

[10:10 am] def: 2 - buenos dias.

[10:11 am] def: 3 - bonjour.

[10:12 am] def: 4 - buongiorno.

[10:13 am] def: 5 - *insert here ‘good morning’ in russian because it’s really hard and i don’t know how it is spelled*

You laughed at his nonsense. And that part of the day relieved your confused chest. At the end of the day, he was the only one for you. And anxiety knocked on your door once again. The day went by so slowly that you keep looking at your watch every 15 minutes. When it was finally time to leave, you were almost jumping of joy.

"Take it easy, Dorothy. The road to OZ is almost there." Sunny said sarcastically.

"I just want to do this soon, to meet with him." You said, opening her car door and getting in.

"Speaking like that, you look like you hate your friends." Sunny replied pretending to be hurt, placing her hand on her chest, fake crying, while starting the car.

"Shut up, actress. I'm just really looking forward to seeing him." You answered, looking out the car window, which was now moving, thinking about how you could hardly wait for that moment.

Arriving at Jaehyun's apartment, Mark was already there, talking to someone on the phone.

"Come on, man. It's only a few minutes, then you can go and do what you want!" Mark insisted to the person on the other end of the line. "I swear, if you want to stay just 10 minutes, no problem, but just show up... Okay. I'll be waiting for you." He said at last, putting his cell phone away and giving you a big smile. "Here you are, my little sweet pie full of poison." He said childishly, squeezing your cheeks.

"Do you want to die?" You questioned, punching him in the arm.

"Ouch! Why do you always want to kill me? I'm just being sweet!" He protested, as you squeezed your eyes at him.

"You are pathetic, where’s the lady that has your heart, by the way?" You asked hugging him. You missed that. Punching him and getting out unscathed, just after.

Yaya showed up from the bathroom, looking stunning, just like a Disney princess, and you looked at both of them together feeling like a proud mother. Not only was Yaya a sweetheart, turns out that she was funny and a great cook. Mark was a lucky son of a b...

It didn't take long for you to get together on the balcony of Jaehyun's apartment, talking about all the crazy events in Mark's life in Thailand over the past three months. From insane rides in a tuned Tuk Tuk with a high driver, to the perfect trip through Maya Bay, showing pictures of a place that looked like heaven itself on earth.

"My god, I really need to go to Maya Bay! Check this out!" Sunny said hysterically, while you agreed, starting to talk about ticket prices and everything about this place.

"We have to go on this vacation, and Mark, I know you just got back, but you are going too!" You said pointing at him, as you took out your cell phone to look for Maya Bay, that's when you looked at watch and saw that you had spent a lot more time there than you had planned and you needed to find Jaebeom. "Oh shit, I have to go!" You said hurriedly. While reading Jaebeom's message.

[10:10 pm] def: i'll take a while, too, but after that I'll be on my way to your house.

"But already? My friend is on his way, just wait a little!" Mark pleaded, sitting on the floor, putting both hands together in a gesture of prayer. "You'll like him, I swear! Jaebeom is so cool!"

The mention of that name made you hang up and take your eyes off your phone.

"Jaebeom?" You asked in an almost inaudible whisper, feeling your hands tremble. Sunny watched you without understanding, since you haven’t mentioned that little detail of his name to her, and Jaehyun kept eating pizza like he never ate in his entire life.

"That friend of mine that I always try to introduce you to, but it never works." Mark said, laughing and slapping Jaehyun's arm. "Do you believe that I tried to introduce these two to each other for a whole month and it always went wrong? I’m trying since May, we are in August already." He laughed harder, and Sunny chuckled, as if remembering something, still not noticing your static expression.

"I remember that. The first time was when we were at the mall, we were going to see that horror movie, Mark had everything planned to leave you and Jaebeom alone and he would disappear into the world, at end, Y/N didn’t show up and Mark was disgusted. He spent the rest of the week saying he was going to get the two of them to know each other, before he went to Thailand." Sunny laughed harder, stealing Jaehyun's piece of pizza, which he complained about with his mouth full.

"I tried every day when I was still here in Korea, but the two never collaborated. Aish..." Mark said frustratedly, messing up his red hair. "The last time I tried, it was the day before I traveled, I went to Y/N's apartment when Sunny was there, I made an excuse that I needed to talk to Sunny and Y/N just opened the door, greeted me, said a quick hi to Jaebeom, didn't even look at his face and ran to the bedroom. It was frustrating. He is a dumbass also, he was always on that damn phone. Both of them are frustrating. He was right there in your living room and you were locked in the bedroom." Mark said, looking for something on his cell phone.

Every word from Mark made your stomach turn and you felt like you were going to throw up at anytime now. You didn't know how to absorb that information.

"Ah! I found it. Look at him here with me." Mark said excitedly, crawling over to you by placing his cell phone screen in front of your eyes, showing a picture of him with the said Jaebeom. And you felt the air in your lungs disappear, and were on the verge of crying.

There he was.

The subway guy was Mark's friend.

Your soulmate was Mark's friend.

And maybe, he was...

"He has an amazing Soundcloud account, you know? He's a great singer, I swear. You should listen to his music. You'll like it, I know it's your type of music. Search for Defsoul, later."

After that, Mark's words grew more and more distant, as you shifted your gaze from the screen to Sunny's face, who stood still, with a piece of pizza in her mouth, looking directly at you, as astonished as you, while understanding what was going on.

Your chest tightened in an absurd way and you felt numb. The tears came hard and you got up off the floor quickly, running to the apartment door.

"I need to breathe… Just give me a second..." You said in a low, almost strangled, voice. Your chest seemed to want to explode, your breath was messy. You walked down the building's corridor in slow steps, barefoot, leaning on the walls. Your hand was shaking like never before and you could barely see the keyboard as you typed on your phone.

[10:20 pm] loftv: Mark.

[10:20 pm] loftv: Do you know Mark?

[10:20 pm] loftv: Please.

[10:20 pm] loftv: Tell me that you’re the one that it’s coming here. That you are Mark's friend.

[10:20 pm] loftv: Tell me it was you on the subway.

[10:20 pm] loftv: Please.

You typed while tears fell on your phone screen.

[10:21 pm] loftv: Please tell me that you are my soulmate. Please, I can’t spend the rest of my life with somebody that is not you. I don’t want to.

[10:22 pm] loftv: Please.

[10:22 pm] loftv: Tell me it's you.

The minutes passed and no answer came, and everything just seemed to get worse. Your chest was unable to rest and your legs felt weak. Nothing had prepared you for that, not even your best dream. He was always there, all the time, crossed your path several times and in different ways; nothing could make you believe that this was the reality.

The noise of the elevator doors took you out of your state, making you realize that you were in the middle of a building's corridor, crying, while looking at the floor. Quickly, you tried to pull yourself together in the best way possible, drying your tears with the sleeve of your black shirt, but it was all in vain when you saw who was coming out of the elevator.

In a dark blue shirt and slightly ripped jeans, his hair was messing up, his chest rising heavily fast, as if he had been running for miles, his face was all red while holding his phone. When his eyes met yours, you felt like you were about to die, drowning in so many feelings. He came to you in hurried steps, but they seemed absurdly distant from you. He stopped inches away from you, his eyes scanning every single piece of your face, every emotion hidden in your eyes, he was absorbing everything.

"Return of happiness." He whispered, incredulous. "The lily of the valley usually blooms on the 1st of May and in some countries where it grows, tradition says that offering the plant brings good luck. It is such a humble flower, but so, so beautiful." He went on, reaching out to touch your cheeks with his fingertips, and that shiver, which was becoming something habitual to you, ran through your whole body again. Your heart had never beat so hard like this. "It is a source of inspiration for a better scenario. In the language of the flower, the lily of the valley means 'return of happiness'," he continued, as he raised his hand to the back of your neck, tilting his face so that your foreheads were glued together. You squeezed the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, pulling him closer to you. He never stopped looking at you; so intense that it just made your heart slowly unravel. "That's what you mean to me. From day one. You brought back everything I didn't know I had let go of. You brought back my happiness. You are the return of my happiness."

He whispered those words, as if he had been telling his most precious secret, then pressed your lips together, while holding your face in both hands, as if he was afraid that you would disappear. Every part of your body warmed and trembled at his touch, as if his touch was the trigger for all the feelings you once suppressed in your life.

Nothing but happiness emanated from your soul.

You could feel yourself crying without even realizing it; felt like your heart was shaking saying 'thank you, you're finally here, my love'.

"I love you," he said after pulling away from your lips for just a second, returning to kiss you with fury and passion.

And again, nothing had prepared you for reality.

#jaebeom #lim jaebeom #got7 #jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom imagines #jaebeom smut #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 smut #got7 fic #dearmydearseries

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auroraaa555 · 3 years

Text

“Domain expansion. Infinite void”

My current #1 Anime is Jujutsu Kaisen and I absolutely LOVE the idea of domain expansion. Particularly Gojo "Daddy" Satoru's Infinite Void. As I was watching episode 7 I found myself wanting to know what it would be like to experience Infinite Void so I decided to write a short scrip of what might be going on in Jogo's (aka. Mt. Fuji) mind at that moment. I hope you enjoy.

Uhh spoilers I guess.

It's my first time posting on here so take it easy on me and it's a rough draft so don't be too harsh :3

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

“Domain expansion. Infinite void”

Those were the last words I heard. Not even a second had passed since.

I tried to bring the Jujutsu sorcerer down, I was sure my attack had hit him and Sukuna’s vessel, but somehow not only had he stopped it but he had also laid his own domain in less than a blink of an eye. How!? What was the meaning of this!? How is his curse energy and mine on so different levels!? I HAVE TO KNOW

“Infinite void”. Those words resonate with me on a different level. I know what the six eye cursed technique was and how the limitless curse worked, this man had been blessed with both of them. I knew that since he was born yet I was naive enough to think I could take him down. I had told Geto that it would be nothing but easy work for me, after all, humans have no innate control over cursed energy as we do

“You can try, but you’ll die, Jogo” he had said. I know he is watching from some distance, Hanami is with him too, I have to make sure I stop Gojo right here, right now.

I glance up, frantically trying to make sense of what is happening, I can see how my domain is shrinking, it's getting overtaken by Gojo Satoru’s domain. He even has Sukunas vessel under his right arm, it's almost as if this is a charade for him.

Light around me flickers and turns into lines of multiple colors, I'm frozen in place, not just because of his technique but also because of the atmosphere around us, it's so dense, so powerful and so insanely destructive. light turns into darkness, the lines get longer and longer until it turns into a massive white screen of... nothing… I have been quietly watching innumerable horizons over what felt like years, it had been years right? could it be perhaps that it had only been a minute? or a second? This absolute whiteness has no direction, no up or down, no sun, no moon or clouds, no air or even a breeze, no way of telling the passing of time, just hollowness.

After a while I realized that I'm just standing on the edge of infinity. I could feel the cursed energy all around me. The whiteness is never ending, there are no colors beside this... Had the sorcerer blinded me? I tried to raise my hand, afraid of realizing that indeed I had lost my sight. To my horror I couldn't move. I knew as much since the beginning, not only that but also my legs didn't respond, I couldn't feel my heartbeat either, or even blink, my body just not … was i dead? just what the hell had happened? What kind of cursed technique had he used on me? Was his domain really that refined?

My mind is not understanding anything that's around me, there is no input of information, it's only my thoughts, and they are running wild, the prospect of being trapped in this place made me want to tear my flesh, eat my own fingers, gauge my eye, ANYTHING if it means breaking free, though, that doesn't really mean anything if i cant move.

After a while I start noticing something, there is movement! there's sound! I'm not blind! i… i … a whisper, a glimpse of color, basically undetectable but its there, somewhere. Then it hits me, i get absolutely overwhelmed by the amount of information that is just thrusted into my brain, there is just too much of everything, it doesn't stop it keeps pushing through it's like

trying to fit the whole ocean into a cup but when it resists the information just keep pushing down, there is no breaking the cup, it just keeps widening, i want to scream for it to stop, but i can't, nothing happens, just the onslaught of information.

Numbers and words simply cant convey just how much of everything there is, oh how many lives I had seen, just how many sunrises and eclipses were happening at the same time everywhere. i'm sure they were all real, even though I am still frozen in the same spot as i was, this infinite void as the sorcerer had called it is not so voidless anymore, there is so much happening, and even though to my there is no forward or backwards everything keeps moving at the speed of light

Every second is agony, the cup that is my mind has tried to explode millions of time but it keeps getting bigger and bigger, not one process is ever completed it just starts, it gives me time to understand what is happening and then it stops, just to start again, again and again. My mind is shattering. No, it has shatter many times already. No experience had prepared me for this sensation, every animal breathing, jumping, flying eating and being devoured, every human smiling, all of their suffering or success are inside my mind. I can feel millions of bites, billions of smiles, tears, eyes opening, closing, mouths saying an uncountable amount of words in all the languages that exist

“This is the inner world of limitless”

I hear the sorcerer say, even though the information was still coming, his voice was on top of everything. He put a cold hand on top of my head and smiled, i cant see him but i can somehow tell what he is doing, he is not blindfolded anymore and he is moving within this domain he seems free.

“Perception, communication, every action involved in living is forcibly carried out an infinite number of times.

He pauses for a second, that smirk of his gets bigger, i know he is looking down on me, his tone of voice is soft, like someone who is talking to a dying pet just before they pull the trigger. I don't know how, but I'm going to bring down Gojo Satoru even if it kills me!

“It's ironic isn't it? when granted everything you can't do anything but just die peacefully… but i have questions i want to ask you, so i'm letting you off the hook with this…”

The sorcerer starts grabbing my head with such force that it slowly crushes my head, unable to move, i'm trying to scream, the pressure behind my eyes is too much im totally helpless as this monster just pulls up, it feels as if the world is just spinning on this one point, it's just us, the sorcerer pulling my head, my body resisting and everything just... everything just…

A cracking noise where my spine is separating makes me get back to the ugly reality, I feel like thunder surges through my body as the sorcerer finally is able to sever my head with his hand, my body doesn't resist the pull, it just gives up and he tores not only my head but my whole column, my blood spills in every direction, but it doesn't reach him, that infinity of him stops it once again. i have been trying to understand how this works, how can he touch me

but i cant my mind is going blank … the last horrific second i can see that that the infinite void is shattering into a million pieces of glass under his feet, Sukuna’s vessel is still under Gojo’s arm, unaware of the unspeakable terror i had just been through. i start to wonder what exactly would take for someone like me to defeat this monster, Prison realm is probably not enough anymore, i … gotta… find a way…

Light starts fading …

I can spot Hanami in the distance, she has a flower in its hand. I wonder why... please just… Silence...

#jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #domain expansion #infinite void #jjk gojou #gojo satoru #satorugojo #jjk jogo

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burntmcnuggies · 4 years

Text

A Hopeless Fight

Yander Levi x Reader

Warning: this story contains blood, gore, and suggestive themes such as kidnapping, murder, non-consensual touching, forced sex, and drug usage. You guys have been warned! Now all of you who wanna read! Please enjoy! :D

Prologue:

*Drip*

“W-Wait! P-Please! I-Ugh! I’ll give you anything you want! Just please don’t kill me!”

*Drip*

“PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!!”

*Drip*

“NO!! NOT AGAIN!! NO! PLEASE!!! IM SORRY!!! NO!!! SOMEONE HELP M—“

*Splat!*

His hands were once again stained with the familiar crimson liquid. The same liquid that smears the skin in red when you try and wipe it off. The same irony liquid he’s spilled countless times. The same substance he himself had within his body. Blood. Finally the soundproof walls of his basement could stop restraining against letting the screams of agony and torture slip through them to any listening ears outside. His lifeless metallic eyes glistened in satisfaction at the hefty amount of blood that covered his black elbow-length gloves and apron. He pulled down the black mask around his mouth and nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance at the mess his latest victim had made. He put the tarps there for a reason, easy disposal of blood, however his victim was so squirmy that blood had gotten onto his perfectly clean stone slab floors. His dark ebony brows furrowed, a heavy aggravated sigh escaping his throat.

“How troublesome. If you were still alive I would’ve tortured you more for getting blood on my floor before killing you.” He huffed and took his latest victim off of the hooks he had lodged into his armpits to keep him up and still. He heaved the large man up and took him towards a pristinely clean metal table, an autopsy table he had attained curtesy of a customer. He opened the drawer attached to the metal table and pulled out a large syringe, flicking the bottle twice before injecting it into his victims veins. Since he recently died and hadn’t started decomposing, it was necessary for the extremely sanitary man to drain as much blood as he could. Once he began to draw blood, he carefully watched as the crimson liquid filled the syringe with its thick content. He collected ten pints of blood from his body successfully, and refrigerated the blood packets in a large cooler he had built in himself. “Tch, this better be enough for that four-eyed bitch.” He mumbled irritably.

As if on cue, he received a call from the woman in particular. He grunted and slid one of his gloves off, pressing the button on the screen to answer. “What is it four-eyes. Couldn’t come to check this guy for yourself?” He placed the phone on speaker and carefully slid his glove back on, making sure his skin was clear and clean before he started again. The phone laid on a wooden table close to the metal one where he would skillfully be dismembering his corpse. “Ah, Levi! Great you answered! And murder isn’t really my strong suit! I don’t get off on it as much as you do! Did you get the blood?” He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue at her energetic attitude. He rinsed his gloves in the sink quickly and grabbed the file on the guy his customer had faxed him. “Yeah. Ten pints. Need any organs or anything? Better hurry before they’re unusable anymore.”

“Well, there’s a specific process in removing the organs, I would need to do that! Plus the patient would need to be brain dead and still breathing to use organs to their fullest benefit!” He clicked his tongue once again and snapped the file closed, throwing it onto the wooden desk he kept downstairs to do his research and filing. He approached another metal table, but this one was full of more sinister tools. Many of the tools littered on the wall and on the table were stained and dried with blood. Leaving no room for excuse that the man had ultimately tortured his victim until his death. Although the clean freak he was, he found it pointless to rinse the blood off when he would be continuously torturing his victim. “Tch... well I have your blood. I’ll run some tests following the strict instructions you gave me to make sure this gluttonous bastard doesn’t have a disease or some shit.” His brunette customer laughed across the other end of the phone, shuffling being done as she pulled out some files. He was about to grab his circular saw to begin dismembered his victim, when his next assignment was given to him. “You’re next target is (Y/N) (L/N). A young college student with straight A’s, a bright future, and a promising education.”

“What? Why would you want me to take her life? Sounds as if you like her.” The prestigious doctor sighed on the other end of the phone, and she looked on the file, smiling as she stared at the young girl, reluctant to fax her murderous friend the file on her. She paused, before taking in a deep breath and slapping the file closed. “She’s a sweet girl. A patient here not too long ago. After getting hit by a drunk driver she had to have stitches and a cast put on her foot. She was very kind. But she’s proven a big distraction for my hospital.” The ebony-haired man quirked his thin eyebrow up at her sudden comment. This particular future victim interested him. Probably because she annoyed the eccentric woman, and rarely anyone ever annoyed the woman. “Hmm. Done. Fax me her file and I’ll get to tracking her down right away.”

“No need to track her. I can just ask her to come into the hospital.” He was interested now. An easy catch? An annoying girl to play with and taunt? He felt his lips twitch in the slightest, tempted to stretch into a sadistic grin at the rush of adrenaline spiking through his veins. One question spiraled his brain though. “Why does a shitty brat like her annoy you so much? Tch, thought you would’ve annoyed Moblit with your stupid chatter before a kid ever dreamed of enjoying you.” His friend sighed loudly and started typing on her computer, obvious by the familiar clicking of the keyboard. The doctor finally responded to his question, stunning him into silence at the very boring and stupid answer he received. “Well, lets see... She visits my sicker patients and gives them false hope. The people need honestly rather than hope if they’re terminal. They’re gonna die without a thought in their mind that they’re really dying.” The man scoffed at the received answer and started up the circular saw, trying to drown out her pointless chatter.

“Sounds as if she’s trying to help them and not let them suffer.” Silence spread around the air around the bloodied man, all except the familiar metallic ringing of his rather clean circular saw. He could perfectly tell she was considering his explanation, and was painfully reluctant to send him the assignment. However, even if she didn’t send the information, he would track her down either way. His powerful authority as a police officer gave him a hefty upper hand in tracking anyone he so desired. “Whatever, it’s a brat. Hurry up and fax me her file so I can continue with my hobby.” He mumbled, pulling the black protective mask over his nose and mouth, slipping on some protective glasses. His strong hands grasped onto the pale cold flesh of his victim, and leg the screeching metal collide with muscle, bone, and tissue.

Once his corpse was dismembered, he fired up his incinerator and slid the body into the enclosed space. He had gotten a clear document allowing him to have it in his basement. He had everyone convinced that he went through a lot of garbage, and thought it easier to have an incinerator. They reluctantly let him install it, but he paid the price of paying a fine every couple months. After the body had turned to ash, he threw the limbs in and hummed in satisfaction at a good kill. He turns towards the mess in his basement, and his satisfaction turned to disgust once he spotted the blood on his tools and his once sparkling stone slab floors. After hours of vigorous cleaning later, he replaced the tarps and made his once dirty tools sparkle and shine. Finally, he went to his desk and picked up the papers his customer had sent him.

“(Y/N) (L/N).” He grinned.

“Perfect.”

#levixreader #yanderelevi #leviackerman #attackontitan

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spnsoap · 4 years

Note

Hi! Little prompt for you : Wolfstar and the Hanahaki disease. Have a great day !

Hi, thank you so much for the ask! i so sorry this took me a lot longer to write then i was expecting, I hope you like it !!

tw: mentions of death, a little gore

Jame’s had just gotten to platform 9 ¾ , and said goodbye to his parent’s before hopping on the train dragging his trunk behind him. He walked down the aisle peering into each compartment looking for Sirius, he knew Sirius had to be here somewhere cause he was always the first on the train of his friends. James was almost to the back of the train when he looked to his left, and saw a familiar head of black hair and a black leather jacket.

“Hey Sirius!” James pulled open the compartment door and hauled his trunk in behind him. Sirius looked up from the window he was looking out of, and cracked a smile.

“Ah finally some decent company” James let out a hearty laugh as he sat down across from him.

“What were you looking at, pads?” James questioned with a small smirk on his face. Sirius whipped his head around and turned a light shade of pink before answering,

“What? Nothing.” James' smile widened with amusement as he raised his eyebrows at his best friend, but he didn’t question any further. Just then the door slid open again to reveal Remus,

“Hey guys. Am i walking in on something?” he questioned, also with an amused grin on his face as he looked between James and Sirius. Sirius turned a brighter shade of red at this and turned back the window, not responding.

“Oh no, not at all moony dear friend,” James started, “it’s just pads here, has a crush!” Sirius shot him a glare and muttered a “Shut up prongs”

Remus had sat down next to James who was saying “come on, who is it?” But Sirius didn’t respond, so they dropped the subject sitting in a comfortable silence until Peter came in, and the mindless chatter started.

“No way!! There's no way Mcgonagall would fall for that!” James had been saying before the compartment door slid open and Lily stepped in , with her arms crossed.

“Fall for what?” she questioned with an eyebrow raised and giving them a piercing look. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had previously all been planning some of their pranks for throughout the year, before Lily entered. All previous conversation ceased as they looked up at her, and this time it was James whose face had turned a bright shade of pink.

“Oh nothing” James said cooley, while putting his elbow across the seat behind Remus' head so that his head was resting on his hand. This would’ve looked cool and nonchalant, if his elbow hadn't slipped causing him to fall forward onto Remus’ lap while also elbowing him in the back of the head. Lily simply rolled her eyes and was about to leave when one of her ravenclaw friends came up behind her to peer in at Remus. Remus quickly sat backup and fixed his hair once he saw the Ravenclaw boy looking in at them with a smile on his face.

“Hey Remus, you doin’ alright?” the Ravenclaw boy said with a flirty tone and twinkle in his eyes. Remus was very obviously flustered as he said “yeah, yeah great” now even brighter red than James was.

Sirius looked at the boy with anger and jealousy? But why was he jealous? He doesn't like the Ravenclaw boy, he doesn’t even know him. Sirius thought it must be because all the boys liked Remus, no one ever flirted with Sirius like that, yes that must be it. Sirius tore his eyes away from the sight, choosing instead to look aimlessly out the window.

“Dang Remus, who was the hottie?” Peter asked after the boy and Lily had left. Remus just buried his face in his hands in embarrassment, while Peter and James laughed and nudged Remus hyping him up. But Sirius couldn’t help but notice the smile on Remus’ face when he finally looked up from his hands. It was then that Sirius felt a tickle in the back of his throat and tried to clear it out.

“Hey anyone have a bottle of water?” he asked horsley. Peter grabbed some from his bag and handed it over to Sirius,

”You better not be getting sick Pads, the year hasn’t even started yet” James had said as Sirius took a sip of the water, Peter and Remus nodding in agreement

“Ah don’t worry it's just a tickle in my throat is all.” Sirius said with a smirk, he did hope he wasn’t getting sick.

---

Sirius supposed he must be getting a cold, because at the feast later that night he had started to get a cough. It was right when he noticed the ravenclaw boy staring at remus from across the hall. He didn’t think much of it until the next afternoon when they were in the common room during their off period. He had gone into a coughing fit.

“so, Remus whats up with this ravenclaw boy that keeps flirting with you” James had been saying

“i honestly don’t know, we’ve only met a few times before, i mean i dont even know his name-” Remus’ answer was cut of by Sirius trying to hold in a cough which just made him go into a coughing fit.

“Are you sure you’re alright Sirius? Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfreys” Peter had said

“No I’m fine, its just a cold is all” Sirius insisted, while the others continued to look concerned but didn’t bother to argue. this went on for a few days until finally one night, Sirius decided to go to bed earlier then his friends and went into a coughing fit. He could feel something in the back of his throat, he almost gagged on it as he coughed it up and it landed in the palm of his hand. A flower petal, a small white flower petal. How had he coughed up a flower pedal? Sirius decided to keep this to himself he didn’t need his friends fussing and insisting he go to madam pomfrey, so he stuck it in the drawer of the night stand next to his bed and layed down to go to sleep.

Over the next week it just got worse, until eventually he coughed up a whole flower, a daffodil, a white daffodil. It had become a problem in his classes too, going into coughing fits every so often, until finally Mcgonagall sent him to Madam pomfreys. He insisted that he didn’t need to that it was just a cold.

“Oh come on Minnie, It’s just a cold. i don’t need to go to madam pomfreys” But she was more stubborn and, finally, he gave in.

“Alright Alright im going” and he picked up his bag and started the walk over to the infirmary.

“hmm this is most unusual, i’ve only seen this a small handful of times” Madam Pomfrey had said, “what you’ve got Black, is called the Hanahaki disease”

“Im sorry the what disease?” madam pomfrey made a small grunt of frustration

“The Hanahaki disease, its an extremely rare disease where the patient coughs up flower petals, it’s caused when someone suffers from a one sided love” she had a sad look on her face now.

“well how do you cure it?” Sirius was more then ready to stop coughing up flowers, but madam pomfrey didn’t respond right away. She didn’t bustle off to get some potion for him to drink, she didn’t assure him that he’d be out of there in a couple days, or hours. She just stood there with a sad look on her face, until in a very quiet voice she responded

“it stops when the love is returned, or- or when- when the patient dies.” Sirius stared at her dumbfounded, he was going to die?

“I- I’m going, to die?” he continued staring up at her from the bed he was sitting on. she let out a small sob and nodded slowly.

“I must go inform your head of house and the head master” she said quickly before bustling off to her office. Sirius couldn’t believe it, was he really going to die? there was still a chance though, if Remus could love him back, but he quickly shut that idea down. That wasn’t going to happen.

Sirius layed down, resting his hands over his stomach and his ankles crossed, he stared up at the ceiling. Of all the times he thought he might die, this time was by far the scariest, his love for Remus was quite literally, was going to kill him. he could feel his eyes filling up with tears as he let out a shaky breath, and quickly blinked them away.

he wasn’t quite sure how long he was laying there before he heard voices, hushed whispers he couldn’t quite make out. He sat up slowly, using his hands to prop himself up, looking around for who was talking. He looked to his right to see madam pomfrey, mcgonagall, and dumbledore, they noticed him watching and made their way over.

“why the long faces?” sirius cracked a smile for a second before it disappeared.

“so McG, how long have i got?” He said with false enthusiasm, and she let out a small, sad, chuckle.

“well madam pomfrey estimates a little- a little over a week” Sirius’ smile fell, he hadn’t expected to have such little time.

“oh,” he paused for a minute, a sad silence falling over them, “I don’t want anyone to know- please. and i can keep going to classes right?” he said the last part with a hopeful glint in his eyes. Madam pomfrey had looked surprised at this

“go to classes? I must insist you stay in here”

“no please i want to go to classes, i can’t stay in here until- until- please” he looked up at them with sad but hopeful look on his face.

“oh alright, there isnt much i can do anyways, but i must insist that if it starts to get bad you come here immediately” she said after a long pause

“as for not telling your friends, if you dont wish for them to know then we have no right to tell them. although it is my personal opinion that you should, your friends care deeply for you. yet i will not make you” Dumbledore spoke for the first time, as he looked sadly at Sirius.

---

the next week went pretty normally for the most part. James, Remus, and Peter had gotten increasingly more worried with each passing day, but gave up pestering Sirius about it, because each time they would he would get annoyed or just change the subject. It was nice that they cared but he just didn’t want them to treat him any different than usual, which they were sure to do if he told them he was dying.

Sirius was in their dorm alone having another coughing fit, he could feel the flower in the back of his throat, except it felt longer, was more painful. He could feel it scratching his throat as it cam up slowly until the head of the daffodil was in his mouth. He reached into his mouth and pulled it out the rest of the way, gagging as he did so. He gasped for breath as the flower fell on to his bed, he could taste the metallic flavor of the blood in his throat. He looked down at the flower on his bed, a beautiful white daffodil, stem and all. this wasn’t the last one with a stem, oh no far from it.

they got worse as time went by, he had to excuse himself at least once per class period so he could pull out the flowers. All his teachers were informed of his disease, so they never tried to stop him. by the end of the week his throat had been scratched raw, and he was coughing blood regularly.

---

Sirius knew he only had a few days left if that, when James had walked in on him siting on his bed crying softly. James didn’t ask what was wrong, he didn’t say anything. He just walked over to Sirius and hugged him, it was almost like he knew, like he knew Sirius’ time was limited. they sat like that for awhile, Sirius sniffling every now and then with James’ arm wrapped around him.

it was 2 days latter when Sirius walked out of charms and headed straight for the bathroom, he could feel it in the back of his throat as he all but ran to the bathroom. He burst the door open running over to the sink as he tried to cough up the daffodil. This one was much worse then usual, he could feel the blood in the back of his throat with the daffodil. he fell onto his knees, his hands in front of him holding himself up. his vision was blurry as gagged and choked on the flower trying to get it out. when he felt a pair of arms around him, someone was calling his name.

“Sirius, Sirius!” it was Remus, he must’ve followed him when he walked out of class. it was another few seconds before Sirius finally coughed up the flower, and quite a bit of blood too. But he still couldn't breathe properly, he felt his eyes brimming with tears as he thought, this is it, im dying, he heard Remus yelling for James.

“JAMES! JAMES GET IN HERE!” he heard the door fly open and a few seconds later felt another pair of hands helping him up. he looked back at the floor, it was a gruesome sight, a pool of blood with a disturbingly beautiful snow white daffodil in the middle. It took sirius a minute to realize that they were walking, that they had left the bathroom already, in fact they were almost to the infirmary.

Sirius could hear crying, was it remus? was he crying? he heard another set of doors open and Peter yelling for help. Peter, when did Peter get here? had he been here the whole time?

madam pomfrey came rushing over telling James and Remus where to lay Sirius down. He heard her insisting that they leave, that they wait outside. He heard their protests, saying they wanted to stay with their friend. Sirius had started to cry, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to leave his friends.

---

Remus was sitting in charms with Sirius, James, and Peter when Sirius stood up abruptly and rushed out. Sirius had done this almost every class period. Remus looked over at james and peter who also wore concerned expressions.

“come on” muttered remus, and they all stood up and followed after sirius.

Sirius had been sick ever since the train ride to school and every time any of them brought it up he got frustrated and changed the subject. well no more they wanted to know what was wrong and they weren’t leaving till the got them.Not only this, but he had been acting even weirder since his trip to madam pomfreys last week when mcgonagall had made him go.

“i’ll go in and see if he’s alright, and you two wait out here, sound good?” remus looked at James and Peter who both nodded in agreement.

remus opened the bathroom door and walked in to find sirius kneeling on the floor with a very small pool of blood under where his head was hanging. “oh my gosh” remus said quietly, rushing over to him. remus fell down to his knees next to sirius, and wrapped his arms around him.

“sirius, sirius!” remus tried to get his attention but he didnt respond. his coughs were shaking his whole body as he coughed something up, was it? was that a flower? he coughed up a lot of blood, they were now almost sitting in a small pool of it. remus thought maybe sirius would be able to catch his breath now he had coughed up the flower but he couldnt. remus could hear sirius trying, and failling to breath in enough air. they needed to get him to madam pomfreys, but remus couldnt get sirius up on his own.

“JAMES! JAMES GET IN HERE!” James burst in through the door, and only froze for a second at the sight before rushing over to sirius’ other side to help him up.

“we need to get to madam pomfreys” remus informed jamesas they lifted him up, one arm over each of their shoulders. they walked with sirius in between them down to the infirmary, as they walked sirius had started to cry still trying to breathe properly

“it’s alright” james had started whispering to sirius, although he was so out of it, he probably didn’t hear him.

once they got to the infirmary peter went ahead of them to hold open the door and call for madam pomfrey.

“madam pomfrey, help! its sirius!” she was there in an instant directing them where to put him down,,

“there that bed there, set him down. nice and easy now.” as soon as they had let him down madam pomfrey was telling them to wait outside.

“i need you guys to wait outside, you dont need to see this” they immediately started protesting.

“no im not leaving!”

“he needs us!”

“we’re his friends!”

but they gave in and waited outside.

as soon as they were outside remus collapsed into a ball onto the floor, and started crying. James and Peter sat next to him, James putting his arm around him and pulled him into his side.

“is he going to die? there was so much blood, he was covered in it” Peter had said quietly in his squeaky voice.

“dont talk like that peter, of course not” james had said, even though he wasnt quite sure he believed it. they sat there for a small moment before remus finally spoke.

“i love him” was all he said, in a soft, broken voice. “i can’t lose him, i- i cant”

James pulled him closer and said “i know, i know you do moony” James was letting his tears fall freely now as he rested his head on remus’

---

sirius rolled over onto his side hacking and coughing, he could see madam pomfrey there holding a bin for him to cough up anything he needed to. when suddenly he could breathe again, just like that. he took in a deep breathe and let it out, doing that a few times. his vision started clearing up, everything wasn’t so black, he rolled over onto his back and took a deep breath of sweet sweet fresh air.

----

a/n: sorry this ended up being much longer then i originally intended, anyway i hope you enjoyed! i might post this again later but not sure yet.. also if this is terrible im so sorry, i havent written in ages and i didnt proof read this

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 5 years

Text

a most holy sin

i watched Bohemian Rhapsody and cried at least 12 times so of course i was (loosely) inspired by it and had to write an ineffable husbands fanfic. i definitely listened to a Best of Queen playlist while i wrote it, too. i hope you enjoy and please forgive historical and medical inaccuracies because im sure there are some. also for some reason the line break isn't working?? i'm going to try to add it again later.

(I know Gabriel does not technically outrank Aziraphale but for the sake of plot he's gonna be in charge of Earthly affairs.)

WARNING: There is usage of homophobic slurs at a point in this story. If you are sensitive to such, either be wary as you read or simply do not read this fic. Don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings if you keep scrolling.

~*~

"I'd like to be temporarily stationed in America."

Gabriel looked up from his desk, every inch of it covered in paperwork. Glasses that Aziraphale knew very well the archangel did not need slid down his nose. Gabriel pushed them back up. "Why?"

Succinct. As per usual. Aziraphale pretended that he was not twisting his ring anxiously around his pinky as he spoke. "Well, I do read American papers every so often, and I've been keeping tabs on a certain, er, an epidemic, of sorts, that is happening over there."

Gabriel removed the silver frames from his nose, folding them and placing them on his desk. "Right. The AIDS epidemic."

"Yes," Aziraphale murmured. "Yes, quite. I assure you that I don't intend to miracle up a cure for the disease. It's best to let humans work through that on their own, I assume. I simply wish to - to ease the pain of those in the final stages."

Gabriel was silent. Aziraphale began to wonder if he was pushing his luck with this request. He'd nearly been discovered with Crowley only two decades or so ago, not to mention his boss was not known for being the friendliest or the most sympathetic of angels -

"Yes."

Aziraphale blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said yes, you may go." Gabriel sighed, scrawling his signature on a document in glittering gold ink before shoving the paper away. "I have also been keeping up with information on the epidemic. Those victims could certainly use some angelic kindness right now, what with so many being rejected by their families even as they're on their deathbeds. Beelzebub undoubtedly has a special place in Hell for those sorts of nasty people, I'm sure."

"And we have a special place in Heaven for the victims?"

"Precisely." Gabriel returned his attention to the stack of papers in front of him. "You're dismissed, Aziraphale. Don't stay too long."

"Of course," Aziraphale breathed, nodding. He was almost unable to believe everything had worked out so well. "Thank you, Gabriel." Not wanting to overstay his visit and risk having the decision reversed, Aziraphale promptly left. He considered taking the back exit out, but it wasn't as if he was in a rush. He still had to pack, after all.

It was quite a shame he couldn't simply miracle himself to America. Airplanes were... Less than enjoyable, in Aziraphale's opinion. But miracles had to be preserved.

He didn't want to think about how many he might have to perform in the very near future.

~*~

America, circa 1990

Aziraphale had ditched his usual tartan suit for new tartan scrubs. He was posing as a nurse, working in a ward delegated specifically to victims of AIDS in the final stages. As much as it pained him, he refrained from miracling them back into health. God probably would not take too kindly to that, what with the circle of life and all, even considering Her infinite generosity. Instead, Aziraphale eased their pain as they passed to Heaven. If nothing else, they deserved to know that good things awaited them on the other side.

"Room 636, Nurse Fell," a woman called to Aziraphale as he walked down the hall. Her voice had the rounded edge of a faint Southern drawl. "He's got family with him right now, but they'll be out soon."

"Right. Thank you." He nodded at her as she passed. Aziraphale had memorized the layout of the hospital before he'd started "working" there - it helped him maximize his time with the patients. Not to mention he had to be back in Soho before the end of the year.

"This is your own fault, you know."

Aziraphale froze.

"You're the who grew up and decided to be a fucking fag, goddamnit!"

He recognized that tone. It was one he heard all too often in the AIDS ward.

"And now that choice is killing you. Just like it killed your little queer boyfriend."

Aziraphale resisted the urge to swear. Of course the voice was coming from room 636.

"Hope you're happy with yourself. Hope you're proud."

The man's words were laced with more venom than the world's deadliest snake could provide. Aziraphale reached for the door handle, only to find that it had been locked. Very much against hospital regulations, but also rather common in these situations.

"This is the devil's consequence. You know why they're calling it the 'gay plague'? Because only fags are getting it." The man sighed, an intensified frustration bleeding into his tone. "You just had to be a queer, didn't you? You had to be the family disappointment." His voice dropped, and he growled the lethal blow. "I can't believe I ever called you my son."

Aziraphale didn't care if Heaven reprimanded him. He snapped his fingers, unlocking the door and entering the room without a moment's hesitation. He straightened his back and stared down the father. "Sir, I am going to have to ask that you leave here immediately."

The man's lip curled in disgust. "A queer nurse? I should have known."

Aziraphale ignored the comment, standing his ground. "I must insist that you leave, or else I'll be forced to call security."

For a moment, Aziraphale was afraid the man wouldn't go. But after a long pause, he left in a furious silence.

Aziraphale rushed over to the patient's bed. He was young, in his late teens or early twenties. Still a boy, really. And that only made it all the more heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." Aziraphale checked the IV in the boy's arm, making sure it remained connected. "You don't deserve to be treated like something is wrong with you."

"Maybe there is something wrong with me."

Sweat beaded the boy's forehead, and Aziraphale's heart ached a little more when he saw tearstains on his cheeks.

"Am I really going to Hell, nurse?" the boy whispered. "Was falling in love really a sin?" He closed his eyes, biting his lip in a clear attempt to keep himself from sobbing. "I loved him. I loved him so much. All I did was fall in love."

"My dear boy." Aziraphale pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed before sitting down. "Of course you aren't going to Hell. Believe me, falling in love is no sin."

"That's not what my father thinks." His voice was bitter. Much too bitter for someone who likely had just started university.

"Well, fathers don't know everything," Aziraphale replied. "Trust me, dear boy. There is nothing you have to fear in death."

The boy wiped tears from his eyes. "Yeah? How would you know?"

Aziraphale snapped his fingers. The Almighty really was not going to be pleased with him. So many miracles only a few minutes apart was sure to get him reprimanded. Or maybe it wouldn't. He never could tell what exactly She would approve or disapprove of.

The boy's eyes widened as he took in the sudden change of his surroundings. He tried to sit up, but Aziraphale stopped him.

"Careful, now. I'm simply giving you a peek into what awaits you."

The boy shook his head in disbelief. "Is this - is this Heaven?"

"Indeed." A part of it, at least. A lovely little spot of paradise that was reminiscent of Eden. Many enjoyed it when they first ascended to Heaven. A place to get acclimated.

The boy stared at Aziraphale. "You're an angel."

Aziraphale's wings fluttered, as if responding to the query. "Yes, I am. I requested to be stationed in America to help ease the pain of those suffering from AIDS. People in the... Final stages of the disease."

The boy nodded. A faint smile appeared on his lips. "That means I'm dying, then."

Young people truly were getting more perceptive. "I'm afraid so, my dear." Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and the vision of Heaven dissipated. Regretfully, his wings went, too.

The boy sighed, leaning back more deeply into the hospital bed's pillow. "Would you believe me if I told you that I'm going to miss my father?"

Aziraphale didn't respond. He knew an answer wasn't expected.

"I'm going to miss him. Even if -" The boy's voice cracked. "Even if he hates me, he was the only family I had. I forgive him, and - and I want God to forgive him, too."

"She will," Aziraphale murmured, his voice so low only he could hear it. "She always does."

The boy's heart rate was dropping. Aziraphale resisted every instinct in his body to save him. He could not interfere. It was not his responsibility to influence Earthly life and death.

"At least I'll get to see Miles again," the boy breathed. Tears were trickling down his face. "It's been a long year without him."

He closed his eyes.

The machine flatlined.

Aziraphale could sense the boy's spirit leaving his body. He returned the chair to the side of the room, then slid the curtain shut around the bed.

"I'm sorry, angel."

Aziraphale didn't know when he'd started crying. "I can't imagine even your lot could be responsible for this, Crowley."

There was a pause. "AIDS itself is one of the final gifts of Pestilence unto Earth, despite that they retired eons ago." Footsteps echoed in the quiet room, moving closer to Aziraphale. "But only humans could be so cruel to one another."

"I know," Aziraphale whispered. "And I think that's the worst part of all." He didn't even blink as Crowley stepped in front of him, brushing away his tears with his thumb.

"There's nothing you can do, angel," Crowley murmured. "You know that."

Aziraphale did know that. He hated it, but he knew it all too well. "I just - I just don't understand. All they do is fall in love, Crowley! What could have wrong in human history where they started to believe that love was sinful?"

Aziraphale expected a witty comment in response. A dry quip about Catholics, or the Shaker community. He certainly had not prepared himself for a serious answer.

"When did Heaven and Hell start believing it?"

Crowley's sunglasses slid down his nose. He took them off, tucking them into his jacket. They stared at each other, eye to eye.

"I've been - I've been wondering that myself," Aziraphale stammered. His voice was hushed. "But it's not my place to question it."

Crowley shrugged. "The Almighty has been more forgiving as of late. Since it's you, She just might allow it."

"I - I couldn't possibly."

"I know, angel." He sighed. "I know."

Neither spoke after that. But neither made a move to walk away.

Aziraphale knew he had to leave. He had to report the death of the young man so the room could be available for other patients. But he couldn't bring himself to step away from Crowley.

The stood only inches apart. Aziraphale wasn't certain whether he'd reached for Crowley's hand or if the demon had grabbed his, but their fingers were intertwined and Aziraphale knew damn well he didn't want to let go.

"How did you find me?" he finally asked. "I don't recall telling you I was leaving Soho. Or where I was going." In fact, they hadn't spoken since 1967. The night in the Bentley.

Crowley shrugged. In a rare moment of tenderness, his thumb gently brushed over Aziraphale's knuckles. "The city feels different when you're not there."

"O-Oh. I see." Aziraphale found his gaze drifting down from Crowley's eyes to his lips. He didn't fail to notice that Crowley had lessened the distance between them even further.

"Is love a sin, angel?" Crowley whispered. His free hand moved to cup Aziraphale's cheek. "Because if so, it must be the holiest sin there is."

Aziraphale would have laughed had the tension between them not been almost suffocating. "Well, my dear, I really don't think there's such thing as a 'holy' sin -"

He was cut off as Crowley captured his mouth with his. Aziraphale found himself melting into the kiss, pulling the demon towards him. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist, and Aziraphale placed his arms around Crowley's neck.

He shouldn't be doing this. He didn't know why he shouldn't be, because every atom in his body was telling him that this was right, that this was love, that Crowley was all he needed -

But he couldn't.

Aziraphale pulled away, certain that regret was written all over his face. He couldn't bring himself to look Crowley in the eyes. "I'm sorry. You deserve - you deserve better than me."

Crowley laughed. It was harsh. Bitter. "I'm a demon, angel. I don't 'deserve' anything. It's part of the job description. In the fine print. Non-negotiable. You know that." He yanked his sunglasses out of his pocket and shoved them onto his face.

"No." Aziraphale's voice refused to move above a whisper. "You deserve everything, my dear. Anything you want. The whole world."

"I don't want the whole damn world. I only want you."

Aziraphale forced himself to look at Crowley. The demon's expression was unreadable behind the black lenses. "I can't, Crowley. Not now. Not yet."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "'Yet'?"

Aziraphale nodded. "One day, I'll - I'll be ready. To go faster. As fast as you. I swear it. Just - Just not today." And he meant it. More than anything he'd ever said. "Will you... Wait for me?"

A small smile appeared on Crowley's lips. It was a rare sight, but one of Aziraphale's favorites.

"For you, angel? Always."

Aziraphale blinked, and the demon was gone. He didn't know when they'd see each other again. He didn't know what the future would hold for them, either. But when Crowley had left, he'd taken all of Aziraphale's tears with him. As he so often did.

Perhaps his demon had a point.

If love was a sin, it truly was a holy one.

Maybe even one worth Falling for.

~*~

im a mess, y'all. i love these two more than i love myself. i hope you enjoyed! feel free to send me prompt requests for them or for ineffable bureaucracy because both are such good pairings.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #anthony crowley #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #my post #my fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #archangel gabriel #tw: homophobic slurs #aids crisis #amy writes

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wienerbarnes · 5 years

Text

Guardian

Pairing: Demon!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,119

Warnings: Mention of cancer, maybe angst?, fluffy thoughts at the end, sometimes i feel like these warnings are spoilers sometimes, ya know?

Prompt: “no, no, no. don’t fear me. everyone fears me.” (bolded)

A/N: this is my submission for the love of my life, @thefvcker-tucker‘s #freaky500wc <3 i loveeeee the idea of this theme bc im a total whore for supernatural and scary stuff ;) go follow my angel, doll!!! she’s amazing and a total babe :) oneshot continued under the cut!

You wield the wooden bat tightly in between your fists, raised and ready to strike, despite how shaky your hands are. Bare toes silently creeping along the floorboards of the hallway of your apartment, feet slowly leading you to your kitchen where the loud bang and clinks of things falling from your counter and to the floor were heard. The oversized shirt that hangs off of your frame causes goosebumps to raise on your legs as the hem brushes against your thighs, or at least you attribute your goosebumps to that and not the possible intruder in your home. Could it be rats? Absolutely. Perhaps maybe even a bird flew in through an open window when your weren’t looking.

You would consider these possibilities if it weren’t for the “Shit!” that was whispered following the cluttering from whatever fell.

The closer you get to your kitchen, the louder everything is. Your heartbeat. Your breathing. Is that the sweat trickling down your neck that you hear? The loudest thing in the apartment, though, is the labored huffing as whoever is in your kitchen picks up your things from the floor and tries to set them on the counter as quietly as possible. You try your hardest to concentrate and focus your hearing, picture where this person is standing in your kitchen as to prepare yourself to attack, even though a battle with a stranger at three in the morning in the middle of your apartment isn’t something you think you’ll ever be prepared for.

You let out three harsh but quiet breaths before forcing your body around the corner and meeting eyes with the robber. You let out a yell as you whack the man across the face with your bat with as much strength as you can muster. He lets out a loud grunt and falls the floor, blood that’s almost black in color sprays across the wall and he groans on the floor. You let out another yelp as an overwhelming amount of adrenaline pumps through every vein in your body. You continue your screaming as you run back down the hall and into your bedroom, slamming the for behind you.

Turning the lock, you drop the bat and scramble around the room in search of your cellphone. Throwing your blankets across the floor in frustration you realize it’s sitting on your coffee table from when you were watching a movie earlier.

“Fuck!” You whimper, realizing you’re locked in your room with nowhere to go while a stranger roams around your apartment.

“Hey! Hold on! Wait!” You hear from the man, voice getting louder as it nears your bedroom. Your breaths come out of your body quicker and quicker; you feel as though your lungs are about to burst. You quickly gather your blankets as a shield and crawl towards the farthest corner of your room.

Your heart catches in your throat as you see the knob turning as the intruder tries to open the door.

“Open the door!” He pleads with you, the knob turning with force as though he hopes it will suddenly unlock by itself.

“Take whatever you want! Please, just don’t hurt me!” You yell back, voice cracking near the end of your beg, the fear overcoming your entire body as tears fill your eyes. You attempt to muffle your hiccups, tears falling from your eyes faster and faster as he continues to turn the knob.

“No, no, no. Don’t fear me. Everyone else fears me.” He whispers, the knob finally stilling and you hear a small movement, as though he situates himself on the floor.

He lets out a long and deep sigh, one that sends exhaustion through your whole body, you feel an immense cloud of tiredness and defeat rise over you, as if he somehow sent everything he was feeling to your body.

“Ugh, you don’t understand. I’m trying to help you, we’re both in trouble and I don’t know how to explain it.” He vents, a small thump heard against the door, his head, you assume.

Bucky has no idea what to do. Slumped on the floor against the door, shirt soaked with his black blood from his now broken nose, there wasn’t a worse way this could’ve gone. He doesn’t feel the pain in his nose anymore; it’s stopped bleeding soon after impact was made and it’ll set itself soon enough. He’s been a demon for a very long time and, although he knows the ins and out of pretty much everything he’s capable of, he’s never really gotten the hang

“We’re… connected.” He tries to begin, but shuts his eyes when he hears your heartbeat quicken. Great, now you probably think he’s some stalker who thinks you two are “meant to be” or something.

“That wasn’t right, uhh,” He corrects. “I’m a demon. Your demon, specifically.” He finally lets out.

“And I know it’s crazy and I know theres a lot of conspiracy about the whole existence of demons and what not and I really don’t want to scare you but, I really need you to hear me out; both of our lives are on the line.” Bucky explains.

He hears you slowly creep closer towards the door and although you don’t lean yourself on the other side as he is, you do put yourself significantly closer to him. His anxiety begins to lower as he hopes he’s getting through to you.

“What do you mean?” You quietly whisper, so quiet he barely heard it. He can hear that your crying has stopped, but your heart hasn’t exactly slowed back to normal.

“Uhh… which part?” Bucky calmly asks.

“The demon part.” You answer, answer slightly muffled by the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself and covered your face with.

“Oh. So, uhh, everybody has one. Like, sorta how everyone has a guardian angel, everyone has a guardian demon, too. Like the angel and devil on your shoulder, those are real.” He treads lightly, terrified of scaring you again and not being able to get your help at all.

He doesn’t hear any changes in movement or heartbeat or breathing or anything, so he continues.

“How they work, though, is, um,” Bucky pauses, trying to find the simplest words to explain the whole system to you in your scared state. “You know how I said before that we’re connected? Well, when you die, I will die, too. And then… I don’t know what happens after that.” He trails off.

He hears you crawl the rest of the way to reach the door and rest your back against it, matching his position. He plays with a thread on his shirt as he feels the heat radiate through the door and on his back.

“And you said we were both in trouble? Am I dying?” You question, voice still tight and filled with confusion, but intrigued as to what this could mean for your life, that is, if Bucky’s telling the truth.

“Yes,” Bucky answers after a pause of silence. “You have cancer, but it can be treated if you do something about it early. That’s why I’m here; I came to warn you.” He finally tells you, turning his body slightly to rest the side of his head against the door.

He can hear that you’re breathing has slowed as you process the information he just told you.

“So, what, you just don’t want to die yet? Is that it?” You accuse, throat tightening again as your body feels more and more exhausted the longer you sit here listening to this man talk.

Bucky takes a moment to think and gather his thoughts in order to express them correctly. “You’re a really great person. I mean, you do so much for your family, your friends, your job, strangers you meet on the street. Like when you paid for that lady’s coffee the other day at that shop you go to every morning,” He stops himself when he hears your breath hitch. “I’m not ready to die, again. I didn’t live the best life when I was alive and now I get to watch someone else live such a fulfilling life, a life full of meaning where you actually have people care for you, where you’re actually making a difference. I don’t want to give that up just yet. And I don’t want you to have to give up anything, either. You don’t deserve that.” Bucky finishes, emotion piling up in his chest at the thought of losing you and ending up who knows where after he dies, again.

“I’ll… I’ll go to the doctor in the morning.” He hears you sniffle.

“But, if I’m being honest, there’s absolutely no way I’m opening the door, regardless if you’re telling the truth. Demon or not.” You inform him and he lets out a watery chuckle, incredible grateful that you’ll get yourself checked out.

Bucky feels so much happiness in his chest at the thought that he might’ve saved you because of his intrusion tonight. It feels good to actually help someone instead of hurt them, especially help someone as great as you. He clears his throat to compose himself, but his heart is still jumping for joy in his body.

“That’s understandable.” He assures you. “I guess my work here is done; I’ll, uh, leave you alone, then. We’re not really supposed to communicate, but, I wasn’t going to sit around and watch you and not do anything.” Bucky picks himself off the ground but the sound of your voice stops him from walking back down the hall.

“What’s your name?” You ask quickly, as though he’ll disappear forever no that he told you what he needed to.

“Bucky. My name’s Bucky.” He responds. He feels bittersweet. He’s upset with the way he scared you. And he’s upset that you’re sick. And he’s upset that he probably won’t ever see you again; it just isn’t allowed. But he’s so happy to have been able to help you; to have warned you. You’re going to be okay. And so will he.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

…

You don’t leave your bedroom until about two in the afternoon. Everything that happened during the night thoroughly tired out your body. You pulled yourself out of bed and gathered the blanket around your body to hold onto whatever heat is left in the seams. You drag your feet to the door and notice the lock still turned up. A shiver runs down your spine as you’re reminded of the image of a tall man standing in the dark shadows of your kitchen.

“There’s no one here,” You reassure yourself, “C’mon, you gotta go to the doctor.” You try to push yourself.

You twist the lock and open the door before you can try and convince yourself to hide in bed all day. Your hallway is lit by the creaks in your windows from your living room that let the morning light shine through. You slowly make your way to the kitchen and feel a wave of relief when you find it empty. You also notice something else.

The pans that woke you up during the night when Bucky showed up were now stacked neatly on top of your stove and Bucky’s blood that splattered on the wall when you swung at him was now gone. In fact, your kitchen is spotless. The stove scrubbed, the countertop wiped down, cabinet doors rid of any dust. And a note.

You step closer to the counter where the note lays and see a rough drawing of a smiley face with devil horns with the messy scrawl underneath: Good luck. Love, Bucky.

You smile and pick up the note and tape it onto your fridge before walking back down the hall. A small part of you wishes he was still around, standing in your kitchen awkwardly gathering pots and pans from the ground and stumbling around your apartment tripping over his own words while talking to you. You wish you weren’t so afraid of him yesterday. You wish you would’ve been able to talk to him more; how he died, who your guardian angel was, what was hell like, if that’s even where he came from. Maybe someday you’ll be lucky enough to cross paths with him again. Or rather, perhaps he’ll cross your path again, with some loud and obnoxious entrance in the middle of the night. Although you were so incredibly terrified a couple of hours ago, you don’t mind the idea of his presence and the fact that he’s always been watching over you, even if he was the reason behind the bad decisions in your life.

Somewhere, you just know Bucky’s smiling at you. And you smile, too.

Tags: @thefvcker-tucker @gagmebucky @hannie-writes-marvel @angel-fire

#freaky500wc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #demon!bucky #demon!bucky x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #writing challenge #oneshot

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ad1thi · 5 years

Text

i just called to say, i love you

dont let the title fool you this isnt fluffy at all

an au where the phone reaches before tony has fully recovered

post cacw, angst, past stony, 5+1, implied rhodeytony. the 5 times steve called and the one time tony did(nt)

The first time it rings, Tony doesn't pick up.

No thats not right

Tony can't pick up, because he's just woken up from a 3 month coma and is currently breathing through a tube because there's a scar across his chest the size of Steve's shield and he's surrounded by life saving machines and he can't physically reach out and pick it up

He's happy he had the foresight to sign to FRIDAY that she needed to link the phone to her mainframe, because it rings only twice before there's a small click and the room fills with a hesitant

"Tony?"

There's a beat of silence, because Tony can't talk with a tube in his mouth and Steve's voice comes out more frantic

"Tony?"

Tony's saved from garbling a reply through the tube when FRIDAY steps in and says smoothly "Boss is indisposed right now, can I take a message?"

Steve is audibly flustered, Tony can hear him rustling sheets as he sits up, and he imagines its because of the surprise that FRIDAY replied and not him

"Hey FRI, uh is Tony incredibly busy?"

"Like I said, he's indisposed. Can I take a message or should I end the call?" there's a coolness to FRIDAY's tone and Tony absently wonders who taught his girl lip while he was under

"No thats fine," Tony can feel the dejection coming in waves, and there's a small, twisted part of him that's lying on a bed clinging onto his life because of the man on the phone- that still wants to crawl over and give him comfort, "I'll just uh- I'll try later that's alright."

There's a pregnant pause and then Steve's voice filters through again, "Would you tell him I called please?"

And FRIDAY replies, "I'll note it down on his low priority list" and severs the line before Steve can respond

The second time it rings, Tony's just gotten back use of his throat. Rhodey has been wheeling in and out of his hospital suite periodically to feed him ice-cubes, and he's too worn down to fight the mother-henning

He's got all these ideas for braces that'll help Rhodey walk, but his hands shake too much and he's too weak to leave his bed, so he lets Rhodey heave himself up on the bed frame, and dutifully opens his mouth for food and water and ice cubes

but Rhodey isn't here and the phone is ringing and Tony can't stop his hands shaking

He manages to sign pick up to FRIDAY's camera in the corner of the room, and there's a soft click and a tentative

"Tony?"

just like last time

and it makes Tony want to laugh, inexplicably, because Steve left a hole in Tony's chest and he's the one who sounds scared while Tony is stuck to a bed

"Yeah Cap?" he croaks out, and he hates how frail he sounds, how obviously weak he is

"Tony? Is everything okay?"

Steve's voice is louder now, like he's holding the phone closer to him, like he cares

"you called?" he says and he's proud of how steady his voice is, how calm it is

"Yeah yeah i did i just," he trails off; and Tony bends closer to the phone until he realises that the call is being played by FRIDAY

"I just wanted to see how you were doing"

There's a hitch in Tony's voice, he knows because Steve says "Tony? Is everything okay?" but he can't breathe and the walls are closing in on him and his senses are dulling and

and someone's holding onto him, tight and steady and Tony leans into it desperately, anchoring himself to the lifeboat

His breath evens out and his vision sharpens, and in stages, he breaths in the musky scent of Rhodey

He loosens the death-grip he has on his shirt, but he doesn't move out

its selfish, so unbelievably selfish, because he knows Rhodey shouldn't be standing on his feet, but nobody ever accused Tony Stark of being a martyr

no, Tony Stark takes and takes and takes, and then he takes some more

His consciousness comes back in stages; and Steve's frantic voice starts getting louder

"Tony sweetheart, fuck sorry, didn't mean to call you that, Tony, are you- are you okay?"

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but Rhodey's dry tone comes out

"He's absolutely fine Captain, not that its any of your concern"

There's a soft thud and Tony knows its because Steve dropped the phone

he doesn't have the energy to smile

"Rhodey, I uh, I didn't realise you were there too"

"I am wherever Tony is, at all times Captain, its what friends do," there's a hitch in Steve's voice, but Rhodey continues like he hasn't heard it, "and its Colonel Rhodes to you"

The line clicks off before Tony can hear Steve's response, and he busies himself running soft circles, loosening his throat long enough to ask

"Is that all we are? friends?" in a hoarse voice

Rhodey doesn't say anything, but he does lean down and press his lips to the corner of Tony's mouth, and that, Tony supposes, is answer enough

The third time the phone rings, its been so long, Tony's almost forgotten that the phone exists

Almost

As in its tucked inside one of his drawers, under a bunch of old files and documents, next to a small velvet box he found hiding in Steve's socks that he never got around to throwing away

Almost

As in he curls up next to Rhodey everynight, except the nights when he's looking for someone more muscular, someone blonder, someone who isn't the man sitting next to him

Almost

As in he's healthy and the braces work like a dream and he smiles more than he doesn't, but he still reaches for it sometimes and flips it open just to stare at the screen blankly

The phone rings and it takes him a second to place the sound, before he starts fumbling for anything that vaguely masquerades as a bookmark; thumbs the phone open and holds it to his ear

"Tony?" Steve's voice sounds gruffer, more focused, like he's actually called with a purpose

Despite himself, Tony straightens, and he silently signals for FRIDAY to call Rhodey; this might be an Avengers-level threat and while Tony's healthy- he isn't quite there yet

"Cap," he says neutrally

"Tony oh thank god," Steve's panting on the other end, and Tony physically bites on his tongue to stop himself from asking if he's okay, "Its Bucky"

Tony throws the phone across the room, and it hits the wall just as Rhodey is entering

To his credit, Rhodey barely flinches, he just walks over and maneuvers Tony until he's lying against his chest; fingers carding through his hair

Seconds, minutes, hours later, Tony whispers "he called about Bucky" and Rhodey bends down to press his lips to his forehead and they stay like that until they fall asleep; coccooned in each other's embrace

The next day, T'Challa calls to inform them that Wakanda will officially be initiating proceedings to exonerate James Barnes of all his crimes, and Tony feels a visceral anger until he realises that Steve probably called to give him a heads up

Its progress, evidence that Steve no longer meant to keep things from him, but the pain still burns anyway

The phone wakes Tony up from his sleep, trilling and buzzing and Tony groans, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear

"Its ass o'clock in the morning Steve you better be dying or so help me god I'll kill you myself"

"You," he breaks off with a hic, "you called me Steve"

"I didn't think you did that anymore," there's a slur to Steve's speech- strong enough that it percolates through Tony's brain and he sends a silent curse to the entities above because his ex has fucking drunk called him

"Its been over a year Steve," he says softly but firmly, "I've moved on"

"You've, you've moved on?" he sounds so small, like a child who lost his favourite toy; and Tony's heart aches

but not a deep, twisted ache; a milder, softer one- for the man Steve used to be

"Steve," he says patiently, "its 2 o'clock in the morning; why you'd call?"

"I just called," there's a swish of liquid, and Tony has the image of Steve cradling a bottle, curled around the flip- phone burned into his memory, "i just called to say i love you"

"i love you and i miss you and i just-" he sniffles, and something he didn't know was still in him breaks at the thought of Steve crying, "i miss you"

"Steve," he says slowly, "you're drunk, and I'm tired"

"I'm drunk, and I love you," he slurs, "and tomorrow I'll be sober, and I'll still love you"

"goodnight Steve," Tony says and pushes the phone away before he says something he'll regret

Its the stupid goddamn flip-phone. Thats how they find him. Tony's taken to keeping it on his person because all his intel says that something big is coming, and he doesn't want to be unprepared, so its not even a thought to slip it into his pockets before he flys to bumfuck Nevada to snoop around an AIM base

and he's so close downloading everything and getting away without detection, when the flip-phone starts ringing, and then all bets are off

"Steve," Tony intones as he bends behind a desk, "this better be important"

Steve says something in reply but its lost in the sound of bullets as Tony runs across the hall and ducks behind a pillar

"Can you say that again, I missed that"

"Tony are you, are you being shot at?" Steve's voice reaches new pitches and Tony shoots at the AIM goons coming 'round the corner before slipping down to the floor below

"I was being shot at," he says plaintively, keeping his voice low as he checks the expansive space, "now im being hunted"

"Why would you pick up when you're being shot at?!" Tony grimaces at his voice

"You did give me this phone for emergencies. I thought maybe this time you were using it for what it was intended. The end of the world waits for - ," he cuts off with a grunt as a bullet hits his leg, hobbling to where Rhodey is waiting with his escape ride

"- no-one," he wheezes out once he's in the car, and Rhodey is breaking a lot more traffic law than he should be comfortable doing

"the end of the world waits for no-one, so why'd you call?"

There's silence on the other end and Tony pulls the phone away from his ear to check the call hasn't accidently been disconnected, before saying "Steve? Are you still there?"

"you told me that I was only saying I love you because I was drunk"

Its so left field that Tony takes a few seconds to place what Steve is referring to, but when he does- he can't stop himself from sighing

"Steve look I - "

"I'm coming back to New York in 10 days," Steve barrels on like Tony hadn't started speaking, "I'm coming back home and I'm sober and I still completely and utterly love you."

"The only question is," and Tony can feel Steve steeling himself, "do you still love me?"

Tony looks over to where Rhodey is driving, petting the scar against his chest absentmindedly.

The scar had not hurt Harry in 19 years he thinks when Rhodey feels his gaze and smiles; but there's a tightness in his fingers and Tony knows that Rhodey heard the whole thing

"Steve I- ," he pauses, "ask me again once you're in town"

The line clicks on the other side, and he reaches out to intertwine his fingers with Rhodey's free hand

"I'm not going to make you choose Tones," Rhodey says softly; and Tony lifts their hands so he can press his lips to Rhodey's calloused hands because he knows

There's a silent countdown in the air that week, and Tony has a mental tally of the days,hours, seconds until Steve is back in New York

Except in the end, it doesn't really matter because 9h, 30 minutes and 4 seconds before Steve is expected to arrive in New York, Tony hitches a ride to space in a donut

He's seen the news

Of course he's seen the news

Its all anyone's seen, and the only reason why he agreed to the godforsaken detour so that they could pick up Vision and Wanda

It's not that he didn't want to help them, its that he told Wanda not to go but she insisted and now instead of being in New York and saving Tony he's in Scotland, saving the person who was supposed to be looking after Tony

He's seen the news

He knows what's going on

But he still can't stop staring at the flip-phone, willing it to ring

So it honestly shouldn't take him this long to pick up when it actually does ring

"Tony?" he says, and he could cry because tony's okay tony's okay tony's -

"Steve?" thats not tony

"Steve hey its Bruce. Long time. Look I know its been a while and this is all very confusing and I'll answer all your questions later but Steve, Steve you need to come back to New York"

"Where's Tony?" he says dumbly, like he hasn't been watching the news obsessively

"Tony's," Bruce's voice cracks, "Tony's gone Cap. And we need you"

Fin

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all-hail-the-witcher · 5 years

Text

hello, this is your fbi agent

okay so i have no explanation for this im sorry

____

ship: ralbert

genre: crack with memes

warnings: first person (????), memes, more memes, this is not related to spies, the worst crack and even worse writing, idk fam

editing: ha

words: 1099

____

*record scratch*

*freeze frame*

Yes, that’s me, Albert Dasilva, sitting behind a desk, spying on someone through their phone camera for the FBI. You’re probably wondering how i ended up in this situation. Well, frankly, I am too. I always knew that I was a walking meme, but I never thought that I would actually become one.

See, I had just finished college and, like most college graduates, was looking for a job. One of my friends who asked to remain nameless *ahem* jAcK keLLy, told me to apply to work at the FBI because apparently you only need a college degree to do that. And me, being the dumbass that I am, decided to do it as a joke cause fuck it, why would they ever hire someone who had been arrested for stealing oats and cream cheese from Target when they were 14? (Alright fine, I technically wasn't arrested, the cop was clearly caffeine deprived and let us off with a warning. Although they didn't catch us the one time Jack and I stole one of the Target balls in broad fucking daylight. Wait. Forget I said that. I’m a good wholesome Christian child and have never stolen anything, anything I may or may not have told you was a blatant lie.)

Plot twist, they fucking hired me.

(Jack got a real kick out of that, believe me.)

And, as part of my intern training, I had to do only the most memey job on the whole internet:

Watch people through their phone cameras.

Yes! We actually exist! This is not just some dumb meme that the internet made up! And I would know, because the idiot I’m assigned to watch doesn’t sleep so therefore I don't sleep and I have the dark undereye circles to prove it!

God, I want a fucking nap.

But no, instead I’m watching an idiot look up fucking lazytown quotes at two in the fucking morning.

*muffled shouting* Oh, and he’s hot. Thanks for reminding me, Jack. Not like that's WHY IM WRITING THIS YOU ASSHOLE!

*deep breath* Okay, anyway. Back to the story.

Why am I doing this?

Right. Cause I hate myself, that’s why.

Anyway. The kid that I have to watch through his phone camera. His name is Race. And no, before you ask, I do not know why he goes by Race. It’s not my business. I only watch his every move on the Internet, I don't know his whole life story! What kind of organization do you think the FBI is, huh?

Just kidding, we definitely know your whole life story and its definitely recorded in three different places, one of which is a vault hidden under Argentina. But you didn't hear that from me.

*more muffled shouting*

Jack is telling me that I’m “beating around the bush too much and need to get to the point.” Fine. I know that’s what you came here for anyway.

In short, it was a stormy night and the power had gone out, but I, a dedicated FBI intern who did not want to lose my only source of income, was using my rapidly dying iPhone to watch my assigned civilian through his phone camera. That night, the man had looked especially enchanting, the light from his phone illuminating his luscious blonde curls and accentuating his deep blue eyes, making it seem as though I could drown in their-

Okay this just sounds like shitty Wattpad fanfic. Is tHAT WHAT YOU WANTED JACK?! Also I don't know what Wattpad fanfic is like because I’ve personally read any. I spy on people through their phone cameras alright, I’ve seen a whole lot of weird shit.

Essentially, what happened was I caught some feelings. And, my supervisor figured this out by reading my weekly reports and told me essentially to “tell him you like him so you can go on a date and I can reassign you so that I don't have to keep reading these lovey dovey reports because they make my brain turn to mush.”

Thanks for that Katherine. Love you too.

And now, here I am, having this fan tas tic monologue while trying to figure out how to compose a text message.

(Before you ask how I have Race’s phone number, I work for the FBI. There’s a lot of information I have that any normal citizen would want. Like what is actually kept in Area 51 (baby iPhones), if mothman is real (he is and secretly is the president of the United States), and if Canada is real (its not). But you shouldn’t trust any of this information because I work for the FBI and I could be lying to you.)

Here’s what I have so far:

Hi Race. My name is Albert and you might not believe this but I am actually the FBI agent in your phone...yes, we exist. I’ve spent the last 5 months watching you and I think you're kinda cool and pretty cute and was wondering if you would like to meet up some time. (Also stop looking up lazy town quotes at 2 am, I now have the whole show memorized because of you.)

Overall, it’s not bad, but there’s some things that I think could be improved and- wait, Jack, nO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOP GIVE THAT BACK I’M NOT FINISHED!!

*10 minutes later*

He sent it. Jack sent my fucking message before it was fuking finished and now Race isn’t going to fucking respond and I’m going to be alone forever and Katherine is going to reassign me and I’m never going to see Race’s angelic face ever again and-

Oh.

He responded?

What the hell?

Honestly, I guess I should have seen that coming. Race has no common sense.

What? I’m allowed to say that! I spend my days looking at what he googles, alright!

Anyway, I’m sure you're dying to know what he said, so here it is:

Hi Albert! You better not be trolling me because this has been the biggest and I oop moment I’ve ever had. Please tell me that you haven’t exposed my two am lazy town search sessions to the public. No one is supposed to know about that. And yes, I would love to meet up with you. Mostly to apologize for my google search history and for the memes (hehe) but also because anyone who can spy on me for 5 months without going to therapy than maybe you can actually put up with my craziness! Xx Race.

Huh.

Maybe this job isn’t so bad after all...

____

im so sorry please dont unfollow me

feedback is always appreciated, hmu to be on the taglist

tag list

@fairly-awkward-trashcan

@well-the-kids-do-too

@racetrackcook

@ughwaitwhat

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@voice-foundshoe-lost

@stopthe-presses

@ridin-in-style

@pinecovewoods

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@getchapapes

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stellar-alpaca

@saxoph-ella

@smolcanadiankid

@disney-princess-sized

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@insane-tomato

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@thatfancyclam

@myidkwhatmynameisblog

@legoflambwrites

@not-a-scab

@albertdasillvaprotectionsquad

@entschuldigung-bitches

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@tea-and-theater

@seasickdolphin

@auspicioustarantula

@newsies-of-ny

@mrs-higgins

@spot-me50-papes

@papesdontsellthemselves

@deathcast-s

@the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@humanracoon

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@nico-nat

@localfakeitalian

@carryyourownbanner

@warmwoolysweaters

@spot-the-brooklyn-pirate

@writing-makes-me-antsy

#saphie scribbles #hehe #ralbert #newsies #newsies fic #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #this is Crack #im Sorry #i have no explanation #please let me be #this is what happens when youre a tired college student #i need skeep

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under-the-blue-sun · 5 years

Text

vanilla softserve sort of day

summary: dan doesn't want to go outside today, but when his best friend and crush phil lester turns up at his doorstep...well, he had to change his plans a little.

word count: 4117

rating: teen & up for swearing, but it’s mostly just fluff

warnings: profanity

note: first(ish) phanfic so uh hello phanfic community nice to meet you i guess. this is a little rushed and crappy but im putting this out there anyway so let’s just see how that goes. inspired by liana flores’ softserve - please check her out, the link is here and she is amazing and so underrated i love her so much.

read on ao3 | read on ff.net

dear diary laptop thingy,

today began as a perfectly sunny day. and when i mean perfect, i mean absolutely perfect. i wasn't dying and sweating because of the heat, but it wasnt cold enough so i would shiver to death. the perfect weather to go outside, run around in a park and walk my dog. so obviously i stayed inside, sleeping till eleven am. that is, until i was woken up by the doorbell. i leapt out of bed and ran to the door in my pajamas. i know that that's bad, but in my defense i thought that my brother had left something at home and he was coming back to get it. it was holidays for me, but my brother's last day of school was today and my mother had to go to work. and as far as i was aware, my mum had not ordered anything online since she swore off it so i couldn't see how it could be anyone either than my brother and my mother, for who would want to see me?

yet, i opened the door and saw the one and only phil lester.

now i know you do not want to read through another in-depth description of phil lester. i was just rereading my other few entries and uh, i wrote a lot of things about his appearance and personality. but he did truly looked stunning, just standing there at my front door. somehow, he had looked even better since he got the very fashionable quiff and since he started to embrace his glasses. he was wearing a blue shirt and jeans, which accentuated his beautiful blue-green-yellow eyes and he had his dog, buffy, on a lead. she tried to run forward to greet me, almost choking herself, but phil held her back. and then he fucking smiled at me, which, as normal, was fucking death, which is a bit of an issue when he smiles a lot and he's your best mate, but i swear to fucking god, his smile could light up the entire world.

"hi." he said, still fucking smiling.

"i didnt expect you." i noted, like a reasonable human.

"yas, you didnt. nice pajamas." he said.

of course. of all the days, i just had to be wearing my wonder woman pajamas. i fucking hate this world.

"yeah, they are pretty nice. what are you doing here?" i asked, pretending i wasn't embarrassed.

he fiddled with his fingers, acting adorably flustered. god, i fucking love him. "well...you said you were home alone this week and that you were going to be really bored. so i thought i could, you know, turn up as a surprise." he said. i blinked.

"i dont...have anything planned." i said. he laughed, his stupid tongue sticking out of his beautiful teeth. god, please murder me.

"i know you dont, you spork. it is sunny out today, so i was wondering whether you wanted to go on a train with me to the beach?" he said.

i didnt respond for a few seconds so i could process this information. he is so fucking cute?? and nice?? i did not understand, so daniel.exe just shut down. but like?? still??? i said i was going to be bored on the week and that i had nothing to do, so he turned up at my front step and asked whether i wanted to spend some time with him. like who?? would do that??? honestly, he really was the best friend ever.

"it's okay if you don't want to, i was just asking, you don't have to, there's no pressure!" phil said quickly, his face turning red. it was only then that i realised i hadnt said anything for like a whole minute. oops.

"no, no, i would love to! i was just...surprised that you would think of coming here and asking whether i wanted to spend time with you." i quickly said, trying to make up for my mistake.

"you were surprised i wouldn't at least come and say hi after hearing my best friend was bored and free during the week? daniel james howell, i am truly disappointed in you." phil said, shaking his head.

so i took sookie, my dog (yas, phil and i have matching pup names) and wore my sunglasses. i wore the first clothes in my closet that were reasonably presentable (black, of course) and i went to the door. phil was on his phone playing crossy road (probably as the emo goose) and didn't notice me come out of the house.

"um...hello?" i said. he went pink, embarrassed he didn't notice me beforehand, and looked at me for a while. all i was thinking was fuck, i probably look bad.

"is there something on my face?" i asked. he went pinker and shook his head.

"no, it's nothing." he replied. "let's go!"

the train trip was as breezy as the wind today and before i knew it, we were at the beach. phil tried to chase some seagulls to talk to them like the dork he is, but i pulled him away.

"aww. but i could have been the next doctor dolittle." he complained. i rolled my eyes.

"we already discussed this. you cannot become a doctor, as you would be known as dr. phil and that title already belongs to one human and it will continue to belong to one human only." i said sternly. he pouted.

"but what if i legally changed my name? then could i become the next doctor dolittle?" he begged.

"what would you even change your name to? mo?" i asked, struggling to not smirk.

"mo? mo...lester. what? no! i dont want my name to be the word someone who sexually assaults others! i would change my name to...sylvester. then i could become sylvester lester!" he exclaimed.

"sylvester lester from manchester." i said with a grin.

"yeah! i like it!" he said. he looked so fucking happy, how could he ever want to spend time with me, who literally sucks the happiness out of everything? truly one of the world's greatest mysteries.

"it does have quite a ring to it," i admitted, "maybe you should change your name."

"then i could be doctor dolittle! well, the equivalent of him. doctor sylvester lester from manchester who goes on...questers...to communicate with other animals." he exclaimed. i shook my head.

"no phil, you ruined it. questers? really?" i said.

"i couldn't think of anything else that would rhyme!" he protested. i shook his head. sookie shook his head with me.

"see, even sookie knows what's up!" i said.

"well, buffy would never betray me, so take that!" phil retorted playfully. he then suggested we go grab some lunch, so we went to the local cafe and got some fish and chips.

it was a cute cafe. there was hardly anyone there as it was still technically a working day, which was good for us as we got an outdoor table for our dogs. sookie hungrily stared at my food, hoping for a chip or two. even though my mum hates giving sookie human food, she wasn't here to tell me not to give her any, so i gave in and allowed her to take some of my chips. while i was feeding sookie under the table, i listened to phil talk.

"did you know that a lot of fish in fish and chips is actually shark?" he said. i raised my eyebrows.

"i refuse to believe that. where did you hear it?" i asked with doubt.

"i don't know, i think someone told me on this science camp or something, i don't know." he replied, visibly attempting to recall where he heard it.

"right, okay, really reliable source there. even if it's true, i don't care. i don't care if this is raw shark, or raw octopus or some shit, it tastes good so i'm going to continue eating it." i said.

"octopus tastes different from regular fish, dan. i think you would know if you were eating raw octopus." phil pointed out.

"i don't care! i don't care! watch me! i don't care!" i exclaimed. phil laughed as he shook his head.

we finished the meal in ten seconds flat, like the ravenous, greedy brutes we were and then i paid, despite phil's protests.

"why did you pay? i should have paid! this is my treat to you!" phil exclaimed, continuing to argue even after we had left the cafe.

"yeah, and that is my thanks to you for taking me out." i said back. he huffed.

"yeah, but i wanted to treat you." he said.

"if you wanna try me, get me a ninety-nine." i said, pointing at the ice cream truck ahead. he groaned.

"but they're always so expensive. way more expensive than it should be, anyway." he whinged.

i shrugged. "i mean, if you wanna treat me -"

"yas, i'll get you a ninety-nine!" he blurted out, interrupting my sentence. "i might as well get myself one as well."

and soon, i had a vanilla softserve in my hand and an irritated phil to my right.

"why are they even called ninety-nines when they're not even ninety-nine pence?" phil asked.

"it's actually because italian people thought -" i began, but phil cut me off.

"i don't want to hear. they should be ninety-nine pence is all i'm saying." phil griped.

"if you don't want your ninety-nine, you can go ahead and give it to me," i offered.

"no, it's still mine." phil said. he stuck his tongue out at me, then took a huge lick of the ice cream.

"or is it?" i said. i leaned over and licked his ice cream.

"hey!" he cried. he leant over and licked my ice cream.

"see? now we're even steven. no need to get angry." i said. he shook his head while i manically cackled.

"race you!" phil shouted. i stopped laughing and i saw him in the distance, already running.

"wha - i -" i stuttered, before sprinting as well. by the time we just got to the end, we were both huffing and puffing, unable to breathe.

"i...beat...you." phil said, exhaling after each word. my brain protested "because you had a head start!" but my body was unable to comply, and all that came out was "head...start.". phil and i simultaneously collapsed on the floor.

after five minutes, i stood up and looked at where we had run from.

"you know, it wasn't that far, we're just grossly unfit." i observed.

"the things we sacrifice to play hours of video games." phil replied, shaking his head. "hey, how about we go on the beach?"

before i could reply, phil was on the beach, looking up at me with a grin. i shook my head.

"now sand is going to be in your socks and shoes." i pointed out. he threw his vans to the side and stripped his socks off.

"there!" he declared. "problem fixed!"

"phil!" i exclaimed. he tilted his head in confusion.

"what?" he said innocently.

"you can't just - oh, whatever," i said, giving in. i jumped down to the beach and i took off my socks and shoes.

"happy?" i asked, both eyebrows raised. he smiled, eyes crinkling with happiness.

"very." he said. he lay down on the beach, but jumped up abruptly.

"what?" i asked. he rubbed his back and dug in the sand with his fingers. he plunged his hand in and pulled out a huge conical shell.

"woah, look at this!" phil said with a huge grin.

"was that sticking up your back?" i asked. he nodded solemnly. i laughed loudly and obnoxiously as he pouted. he was so cute when he pouted. why did i have to go through this? this was straight up homophobia.

"hey, let's look for more shells!" he said.

"why?" i groaned.

"because it'll be fun?" he said, with puppy dog eyes. i groaned, but decided to humour him anyway.

"where are you going to put the shells, phil?" i asked. he pointed at his hoodie pocket.

"in here, of course!" he said.

"how many shells would you even be able to fit in there?" i asked. he shrugged.

"as many as i can. come on, let's hunt for shells!" he said, already running across the beach with buffy and sookie. i sighed and chased after him, trying not to grin after he started screaming.

and it turns out he was right. with a little help from my hoodie pocket, we managed to collect a whole lot of shells. somehow, we had managed to spend hours on the beach, rolling in the sand and grabbing shells.

"we should probably have dinner now." i said. he laughed and shook his head.

"what?" i asked innocently.

"nothing. just the people in the restaurant will probably think we're crazy, covered in sand and pockets bulging with shells." he said. i looked at him, his hair in the wind and his multicoloured eyes somehow matching perfectly with the sea. his face looked beautiful under the light of the sunset, and of course his smile was just as stunning as it was this morning at the front door. suddenly, i started laughing too, and he started laughing harder, and soon we couldn't stop until we were just two idiots with one shared brain cell, laughing our head off till we couldn't breathe.

to be honest, i don't know what was so funny. it wasn't phil's best joke, nor his cheesiest, nor his dirtiest or his most ironic. maybe it was just the absurdity of it all, that we had spent our entire day collecting shells on the beach with our dog. but at that moment, i was certain it was because of the impossible existence that was phil and how he managed to be so fucking beautiful and nice. that's why i was laughing anyway, i have no idea why phil was laughing his head off.

"yeah, let's wait for awhile before dinner. you can come to my place if you want?" i offered. he shook his head.

"nah, it's fine. i'll just go home and have dinner there." he said.

"please. have dinner with me. it'll be my treat back to you for making sure i didn't stay inside sleeping all day." i said, practically begging. i looked at him as the breeze blew against his face, and at that particular moment i was more in love with him than i ever could've imagined someone could be.

he looked back at me for a while, then relented. he smiled and shuffled closer towards me.

"sure. i'll love to have dinner with your family." he said.

we sat in comfortable silence, looking off into the horizon.

"the beach during sunset really is beautiful." i observed.

"yeah. really." he eloquently replied. i turned to him, and realised he was still looking at me.

"fuck, i can't deal with this anymore." he muttered. i frowned, quizzical. and then he interrupted my thoughts and kissed me.

my brain went completely empty of all the thoughts i was thinking before and all the logic i normally apply to situations. i stopped thinking about the maths homework i was supposed to do, and how we had to go all the way back to the other end of the beach to get our shoes and socks back if they were still there, and how the weather forecast said that it might rain later this evening. the only thing that i was thinking about was how phil, my best friend, crush, soulmate and companion through life, fucking liked me back and that he was fucking kissing me.

holy shit. even now as i'm typing this, i still can't believe it. this kind of thing only happened in cliche rom-com tv shows and movies. but yet it was still happening. Philip Michael Lester, the attractive, polite, intelligent, thoughtful, kind human being, was kissing Daniel James Howell, the impolite, sarcastic, idiotic, emo, ironic demon. just...fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

"i really like you dan." phil said quietly, avoiding my eyes. i took his hand and placed it in mind.

"i really like you too." i said, smiling. he looked up at me and smiled. we sat, hand-in-hand, and watched the sunset in silence.

"let's go home." i said.

"let's go home." he repeated.

so we walked to the other end of the beach, our bare feet making temporary footprints across the barren sand.

we collected our shoes and socks (which phil forgot about before i reminded him) and then we went on the train, but we were too exhausted to talk. emotionally tired or physically tired, i don't know. but we sat on the train hand in hand, trying not to drift to sleep. unfortunately, i epically failed at that because soon i woke up to phil nudging me at our stop. after a five minute walk from the train station we arrived at my house. i knocked at my door, and waited for an answer. i heard footsteps, and soon adrian answered the door.

"dan, i'm proud of you. i was surprised you even went out of the house, but i had faith that you would. mum thought you were kidnapped, but obviously you're okay. oh, hi phil! we weren't expecting you." adrian said. oops. i kind of forgot to tell mum that phil was coming. i'm sure it was fine.

"hi adrian! can you ask your mum whether it's okay for me to have dinner with you? tell her it's fine if i can't, i wouldn't want to butt into your family dinner." phil said. ugh, what a gentlemen. how the fuck did he like me? if i was him i wouldn't like me. what was this sorcery???¿?¿¿¿

adrian nodded and ran back to the kitchen. he shouted back to us saying it was okay, and we went in.

the dinner went smoothly. as i predicted, phil made adrian laugh with his cheesy jokes and he was incredibly polite to my mum. i had told my mum while phil went to the bathroom that we were dating now, and i could tell that the only thing that went through her head was "ideal son-in-law". which was good i guess, if also somewhat embarrassing.

as soon as we started the dessert course, it started raining outside.

"you boys just missed the rain, didn't you?" my mum said, looking out the window.

"good luck, i guess." i replied, focusing on my apple pie.

"or maybe the universe meant it to be like that." phil said. i looked up at him.

"probably luck." adrian decided, interrupting our moment.

despite my mum's protests, phil soon started to get ready to go, hoodie pocket still bulging with shells. i had put my shells in my room the minute we came back in, but poor phil had to carry them all throughout dinner.

"i'll count them when we get home and we can see how many shells we collected together." phil promised.

"or we could have a competition to see who has the most shells." i proposed.

"i gave some of mine to you, so that's not fair." phil said. i clicked my tongue.

"excuses, excuses." i said, shaking my head.

"are you sure you don't want to stay here for the night?" my mum said, concerned.

"it's fine, ma'am. i need to go home and do some things i was supposed to do this afternoon, but i was held up." he said, looking at me.

"you invited me!" i protested.

"i know, i wasn't blaming you. but it's fine ma'am, i want to go home." phil said. mum sighed.

"at least make me give you a lift." she said.

"it's -"

"phil lester, it is raining outside. i do not want your mother calling me saying i let you to walk out in the rain, allowing you to catch a cold! i know your address, let me drive you there. dan, adrian, do you want to come?" my mum said. adrian shook his head.

"sure." i said.

"good, let's go. adrian, don't do anything or you're grounded." mum said. ah, what a legend.

the second we got in the car, holding hands in the backseat, my mum showered us with congratulations. she revealed she had been shipping us since grade three, which made me confused and worried, and she said that she always knew i liked phil.

"mum!" i said while phil laughed.

"what? it was as obvious as day. even before you told us you were gay, i knew that you thought phil as something either than platonic. and don't laugh too hard mr lester, i always knew you liked him too. i'm just amazed it took this long for you to get together to be honest." mum said.

"well, we're both oblivious and nerdy, so that might be why." phil said. mum chuckled.

"yas, that is true. that's very true." mum said. we then chatted about music and literature, and before we knew it we were at phil's place. it had somehow stopped raining on the drive, but i was still wet so mum told us to be careful.

"thank you for taking me ma'am." phil said honestly.

"that's okay phil. it's been nice seeing you again. you're welcome at our house at any time. i'll let you two say goodbye." mum said.

phil got out of the car, making sure he didn't drop any shells from his pocket.

"make sure to count those shells," i said while getting out of the car.

"i will." he said with a smile. god, those smiles still killed me. i kind of hoped that i would become immune to them after finding out he liked me, but i was also kind of grateful that i was still susceptible to the magic of phil's smile. still, it was irritating that i melted any time he felt moderately happy. it wasn't fair, it really wasn't fair.

"you wanna go to the movies tomorrow? i heard there's some good films in the cinema." i said.

"sure. my treat." he said.

"nope, you're not paying for it. i refuse to let you. you can pay for something else, but i will pay for the tickets." i said. he opened his mouth to argue, but closed it immediately after.

"we'll argue about this tomorrow. i'll go -" he started, but i interrupted.

"i'll be at your place. at eleven thirty sharp." i said. he raised his eyebrows.

"would you really?" he said.

"i will. you'll be sorry you ever doubted me." i replied.

"have you done mr folium's homework yet?" he asked.

"nope. i'll probably just google the answers." i said.

"you're going to regret doing that." he said.

"i know. but for now i'm just focusing on the present and not worrying about the future." i said.

"that's a good quote for our relationship, not so good for maths homework. but fine, you do you. i'll probably just google the answers as well." he said. i laughed.

"you're such a hypocrite." i said, shaking my head. he smirked.

"i know. it's one of the things you love about me, isn't it?" he said. i raised my eyebrows.

"your words, not mine." i said. we stood in silence, both unsure of what to say.

"i should probably get going." i said, breaking the silence.

"yeah, same." he agreed. and there it was, that perfect silence yet again.

"i really like you." i began, but not sure of what else to say.

"yeah, same." he said.

and then we kissed again. it sounds so casual, doesn't it? but it wasn't, it really wasn't. my heartbeat sped up and slowed down to match his, my palms started sweating with nerves and excitement, and my lips curled as it struggled to fathom what was happening. i wonder if every kiss with him would be like this. i wonder if i would ever stop loving him just as much. there's still so much i was unsure about, but for now i'll focus on the present and i'll let the future come when it comes. who knows how much - or how little - the world has in store for the two of us? let's face it, i'm just a seventeen year old boy really in love with another boy in my class who somehow liked me back. but couldn't be seventeen? that's all i wanted to be. and there was nowhere to go if didn't start the journey, and right now we were only just beginning.

today was a vanilla softserve sort of day, and i love vanilla softserves. signing off,

daniel howell

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seouledbysisi · 4 years

Text

A Time Like No Other

Chapter 26

While in New York Monsta X were preparing to host a fan meet party.

Nori pulled out some outfits for Misun to help her with. “What exactly do you wear to something like this?”

Misun shrugged. “I don’t think it really matters what we wear because we’re not in the spotlight. We just need to get good footage of them.”

“I still want to be cute!”

Misun shook her head. “For Jooheon?”

“Well yeah! You mean to tell me you don’t want to look cute for Minhyuk or is it Shownu today?” Nori joked.

“That’s not funny at all. Me and Shownu are in a really good space right now. We’re friends and that’s how I want to keep it!”

“Could’ve fooled me! You bout had a heart attack when you seen him and Elle together at the restaurant.” Nori continued.

“That doesn’t mean I want him, I just want to be apart of who he chooses to be with. I want my replacement to be worth his time.” She shrugged.

Nori chuckled. “You know you can’t do that though, right?”

“I just want him to be happy. I don’t want to see a woman hurt him. That would kill me!” Misun stared at the ground. She knew she sounded selfish and legit crazy but Shownu was precious to her and if she wasn’t going to be with him she wanted someone who she actually agreed with to be with him.

Nori grabbed her hands. “I know Shownu means a lot to you but you have to loosen your grip on him. Otherwise Minhyuk won’t understand what’s happening. You’re sending mixed signals baby girl.”

Misun looked up at her in confusion. “Mixed signals?!”

“That’s a conversation you need to have with Minnie.” Nori told her and walked to the bathroom.

Misun simply sighed and finished getting dressed. She decided to put some effort into her look since Nori was.

Nori rushed out of the bathroom. “How do I look? Is my hair okay?” She had curled it a bit.

Misun nodded. “You’ve never looked better. So I was thinking we could pick a few fans from each city and maybe do a Q&A with them. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me. It’ll be random which is even better!”

Fan Meet Party

The guys were in a holding room waiting for the party to begin. There were even refreshments being served to the lucky fans who had got tickets.

Nori and Misun met the guys in the holding room.

“Hey everyone!” Nori exclaimed as she grabbed a chip out of Wonho’s bag. He didn’t mind, he shared with everyone.

Misun simply waved.

Shownu watched her for moment, wondering why she wasn’t interacting with Minhyuk very much.

Elle waved in front of his face. “Well you’re in a daze!”

“Sorry I was a bit distracted.” He answer with a smirk.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say Misun was your ex.” She giggled.

Hyungwon burst out laughing.

Elle gave Shownu a knowing look. “Oh my gosh, she is isn’t she? She’s the one you’re kind of stuck on?!”

Shownu shook his head. “We’re just really close. Change the subject, please.”

Elle got quiet and nodded her head. She knew something had transpired between Shownu and this woman and she was dying to know what it was. He intrigued her and she couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe it was because he was a mystery. She wanted to dig deeper into him and figure him out.

Hyungwon bit into a snack cake. “If you’re trying to get more information out of him you probably won’t. He doesn’t really talk about his feelings.”

Shownu had walked away from them.

“Silly me for trying, right?” She said under her breath.

Shownu sat beside Minhyuk. “Why are you always alone now?” He asked him.

“Just trying to stay out of everyone’s way. I don’t want to be known as the group’s troublemaker.” Minhyuk looked away.

Shownu shook his head. “You’re never a troublemaker. If anything you’re the energy that keeps us going. We need you back. The real you! What else is bothering you? Why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“Because I’m not sure if I want to.” Minhyuk revealed.

Shownu shoved his arm. “I didn’t give her up for you to sit on your feelings! Get it together, Minhyuk!”

“I’d be competing with you and I’m not doing that. Her whole attitude changed when you walked into the restaurant with Elle. Y’all aren’t even dating so imagine how she’d react if it was someone you were dating?!” Minhyuk pushed his hair back.

Shownu burst into laughter. “You think I’m competition?! You really don’t know how much you’ve affected her. I highly doubt she cared that I was with Elle, the other managers were there too. Elle kind of rubbed her the wrong way with all of her questions. That’s why she’s acting like that. It has nothing to do with me and Elle.”

Minhyuk sighed. “I didn’t know that. I thought she had gotten jealous or something. I feel so stupid.”

“Just talk to her.”

“Yeah but then there’s Kihyun in my ear who is really against me even liking her. He called it a school boy crush.” Minhyuk revealed to Shownu.

Shownu shook his head. “I’ll talk to him. You’re always hanging in there for everyone and worrying about everyone’s feelings so now we need to be considerate of you.”

“I just don’t know, Shownu. I’ve already made a mess of things and I understand that you’ve gotten over it but some them haven’t. We’re a team and I have to put them first.” Minhyuk looked towards Misun. She looked so pretty today. He could tell she was out of her element. He wished that it was simple for them but it just wasn’t and sadly it might not ever be. He saw how happy Jooheon was and he wanted that too but not at the cost of this team. He couldn’t stand to do that.

Shownu thought for a moment. “No one really cares but Kihyun and he tries to micromanage all of our lives so you’ve gotta do this for yourself. I know you love her, so now it’s time to act like it. Kihyun will be fine, besides I’m the captain of this ship!” He winked and walked away.

After a few minutes Elle went out to the main room with the fans. She grabbed the mic and began to talk. “What’s up New York Monbebe!” She yelled.

The fans went wild! They began to chant the guys names. Son Shownu, Lee Wonho, Lee Minhyuk, Yoo Kihyun, Chae Hyungwon, Lee Jooheon, Im Changkyun.

The guys were getting pumped as they listened to their names. The energy was amazing.

“Gosh, monbebe are the best fans in the world! Give it up for Monsta X!” Elle introduced.

The guys all ran into the room waving and joining in the noise with their fans.

Misun and Nori had their cameras out and began to film certain parts of the party.

Changkyun grabbed the mic. “How you doing Monbebe!?”

The fans yelled some more.

“It’s always good to see you guys. We love spending time with you and it’s so cool today because we’ve never had this kind of fan meet where we can eat with you guys, play games and just be normal guys.” He continued.

Minhyuk grabbed the mic. “We wouldn’t want to share this moment with anyone else!”

Shownu walked up to one of the Monbebes and grabbed a piece of her food. “I’m so hungry!” He laughed. The Monbebe lost her mind simply from him helping himself to her food.

Misun kneeled beside a Monbebe. She pulled a recording mic out and began to talk to her. “What’s your name and age?”

The Monbebe smiled big into the camera. “I’m Erica. I’m 18 years old.”

“Are you a college student?” Misun asked with a huge smile.

She nodded. “This is my first year in college. I’m studying to become a psychologist!”

Misun stood for a moment. “Hey guys!” She yelled to get Monsta X’s attention. The guys looked her way. “This is miss Erica and she’s starting her first year of college. She wants to be a psychologist. Can we make some Monsta noise for her?!”

The guys all clapped and ran over to the girl congratulating her for continuing her education.

“So whose your bias?” Jooheon asked the girl. He was always wanting the attention. It was apart of him.

The girl became super shy. “I like you all.”

Jooheon shook his head. “No no no. You have to pick. It’s me, right?” He chuckled.

The guys hit him across his shoulder.

“If I have to choose it would be Minhyuk.” She covered her face from embarrassment.

Minhyuk began to grin hard and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you so much.” He voiced.

Misun patted her back. “Good choice!”

They wrapped the fan meet up after a hour.

The guys changed out of their clothes that had been styled for them and put on something comfortable. The managers helped the guys carry all of their things out to the van.

The girls all ended up on a separate van. Misun was very quiet.

Elle wanted to speak to them but she already felt like she wasn’t very liked.

Nori pulled her phone out to look at the time. “That was pretty fun!”

Misun nodded. “It was. It didn’t seem like work even though we are working.”

Elle glanced over at them. When they noticed her she looked down.

“Is there something you want to say?” Nori asked. It was a bit annoying with the way she kept looking at them.

Elle took a deep breath. “I know I’m the new girl and I don’t expect y’all to befriend me or anything. I just hope I haven’t offended you in anyway.”

Misun stared out the window. She really hadn’t gave this girl a chance at all. She kind of felt bad. “You’re good. I’m a bit slow-to-warm sometimes that’s all.” She still didn’t want her with Shownu though!

Nori nodded. “Yeah. I just be caught up with working and being up under Jooheon that I just never really gave you a chance. Sorry. How was your first event?”

Elle smiled. “It was good. The guys have such a pure love for their fans. They seemed so natural.”

“It’s really amazing to watch.” Misun stated with a smile.

“And Shownu really has a way of keeping his team together.” Elle added.

Misun nodded. This girl must really have a thing for Shownu. “Yep he does.” She responded.

Nori squeezed her hand.

They finally made it to the hotel. The guys were in the lobby.

Jooheon grabbed Nori’s arm. “We’re ordering food and gonna eat it in the room.”

Nori nodded. “I’ll be there. Let me get settled in.”

“Okay, what do you want?” Jooheon asked.

Nori thought for a moment. “Just get me a burger with fries.”

He nodded and they went their separate ways.

Misun laid across her bed. “I guess I’ll see you later on.”

Nori sighed. “It’s not like you can’t come too.”

“I don’t want to be third wheeling it tonight.” Misun giggled.

“Minhyuk will be there! They’re sharing a room.” Nori rolled her eyes.

Misun shook her head. “Nope. Even more reason for me to stay here. I’ll watch some tv till I fall asleep.”

Nori shrugged and left out the room.

About ten minutes later Misun’s phone pinged. It was a picture of a plate of food. Wanna share this Citrus Grilled Tilapia with me?

It was from Minhyuk. Instead of responding back she simply grabbed her room key and headed to his room. Might as well. Beats being alone. When she arrived Nori and Jooheon were sitting on his bed grubbing.

Misun took a seat in the computer desk. “Is it good?” She asked them.

“So good! Want a bite?” Nori asked as she stretched her arm out with the burger in her hand.

Misun walked over and took a bite. She nodded. “It’s good.”

Minhyuk cleared his throat. “This is yours.” He pointed down to the plate. “I know you eat healthy and all.”

Misun smiled. “Thanks for being so considerate, I would’ve at whatever. I’m grateful you thought of me.”

Minhyuk smiled and patted the side of his bed. “Always.”

Misun’s phone began to ring. It was her mom. “Hey mommy!”

Her mom hesitated. “You’re in the states right?”

“Yes? What’s up?”

“Well your dad is having an emergency surgery in a couple of days and they say it could be dangerous. Do you think you could come here?” Her mom asked.

Misun’s eyes began to fill with tears. “For sure. Let me work some things out. I’ll call you back!” She dropped the phone onto the bed and stared into space.

Nori rushed over to her. “What’s wrong?!”

At that point she broke down. “My dad has to have some type of major surgery and my mom said it could be dangerous. I don’t even know what’s going on, Nori!”

Minhyuk rubbed her shoulder. “Do you need to go home?”

She nodded.

“I’ll call our company and see if they can arrange you a flight out of here tomorrow. I’m going to come with you!” Nori told her absolutely.

Misun shook her head. “No you’re not. Our company will never go for that. One of us needs to be with them. You have to stay!”

“You shouldn’t have to go alone though!” Nori was frustrated. She knew that the job had to be done but she didn’t want to send Misun away to deal with this alone.

Minhyuk raised his hand. “I’ll go. You’re not going alone. I’m sure these guys can handle a couple of days without me.”

Misun looked over at him. She was shocked that he even volunteered himself.

#fanfic #kpop #stories #soft hours #kpop idols #hyungwon #kihyun #jooheon #monsta x #minhyuk #im changkyun #shownu #monbebe #seoul #lee wonho

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agentbarton12 · 5 years

Text

Old People Teenager Watchers

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

the advice - 3

Tony trusted Peter.

He doubted he’d say it to his face, but he hoped that Peter knew it anyway. He trusted that, when in a situation, Peter would make the right decision. Okay, more like hoped, but whatever.

The point is, when Peter came to him saying that he was ready to reveal Spider-Man to world, Tony thought he was being a complete idiot.

Why would he want to give up anonymity? What could possibly make him think this would be a good idea? Hormones, was the first answer that came to Tony's mind. Peter wanted to impress someone and he thought the best way to do that would be to reveal his identity. Then Tony got to thinking about all the people Peter could want to impress, but the only one he could think of was MJ (that’s right. She’s MJ now. Take that Steve) and that didn’t make sense — she already knew about his not-so-secret identity. Which meant that there had to be another girl.

Ugh.

Just the thought of Peter liking anyone except Michelle made Tony sick.

He tried very subtly to figure out why Peter wanted to do this (“Why, Peter? This could ruin your life. Don’t go public, Pete. Don’t do it. You’ll give me a heart attack. Ah, there it is. Do your super spider ears hear that? That’s sound of me dying. You really wanna kill me?”), but for some reason, it never worked.

He had been so lost and confused for a full hour, and that was the longest he had gone not understanding something, when MJ sent him a picture.

Emmjaaay

[image attached] chill out, dude. they were gonna figure it out anyway. besides, he feels like its “time” or whatever now

The picture was of Peter in his Spidey suit sitting on a roof without his mask on. It was a grainy picture, but if you knew who Peter was, you would be able to tell it was him. Honestly, of all the reasons to reveal your identity, it’s because someone took a photo of him. Not because it would benefit humanity or some noble thing Steve would talk about, but because of a picture.

Tony was tech genius, for crying out loud! He could make this picture disappear and Peter wouldn’t have to do something rash, like reveal himself.

TonyMan

How do you feel about this?

Emmjaaay

eh, im kinda, dare I say it, proud of him. that hurt so much to type.

TonyMan

Ha. But really, you think he’s ready? This is a big step up.

Emmjaaay

arent you, the same guy who tried offering him a spot on the avengers team when he was what, 12? he turned you down because he didn’t feel ready, now like three years later he does. just sit back and trust he’s making the right decision even if you feel he isnt. its the only reason I have put up with his self-sacrificing tendencies.

TonyMan

Do me a favour and activate the auto-correct on your phone.

TonyMan

Like, seriously. Please.

They held a press conference the next day. No, Tony was not announcing him as an Avenger, just the identity thing, which still wasn’t sitting well with him.

Really, he thought Peter was being irrational, and he even told him as much, which resulted in Peter saying that he wasn’t a kid anymore and was allowed to make his own decisions, no matter how rash Tony thought them to be.

As it turns out, it went pretty well. Peter even had an original speech planned that was so clearly written by MJ, Tony thought it was her up on the podium. He answered questions quickly and curtly, going into detail where necessary, and where not, giving vague answers. He was so clearly taught by Pepper, that Tony thought it was her up on the podium.

The press ate it up and even got Peter to demonstrate some of his powers. Of course, the kid decided that climbing the walls was a good idea and when he saw MJ somewhere at the back, even though she said she didn’t want to go, he lost his grip and fell on his face. MJ laughed the loudest.

So, maybe Tony should’ve trusted Peter’s decision, because it seemed to have worked out okay. The world knew he was Spider-Man, but didn’t know where he lived, which was great for May and his friends. The press knows his school and Tony knows that the first couple of weeks back are going to be hectic.

Tony apologised to Peter for not trusting him and promised to trust him so much, he might as well be his Magic 8 Ball. He explained that he was worried he was doing it because he felt forced, but Peter explained that he has been thinking about it for a while, and that picture just gave him the push he needed to go through with it.

Like Tony expected, Peter was swarmed at school, and as a result, Ned and MJ were too. MJ was undoubtedly the best at handling press, because she was never interesting enough for them to get any information. She hardly spoke when she saw any camera, always burying her face in a book, and making sure Peter and Ned don’t do anything dumb, like exist too much.

All in all, nothing bad had happened since then. Sure, a couple villains tried to use Peter’s open identity as a means to get to him. One guy thought that kidnapping Ned and MJ would be a good idea, but he didn’t count on them practically being the adopted children of the Avengers and was in for a surprise when not one, not two, but all the Avengers showed up to his basement hideout thing.

No one’s tried anything again.

Sadly, like Tony expected, there was — ahem — another girl. Name was Gwen Stacy or something dumb like that. Pepper says the only reason Tony doesn’t like the girl is because he wants Peter to end up with MJ.

And Tony isn’t denying it.

He’s discovered that Gwen and Peter aren’t dating, which means there is still a bit of wingman-ing that can be done. For Peter and MJ. Not Gwen. Gwen could go ahead and be hit by a bus for all Tony cared. In fact, he should make that make that happen…

The only thing that sucked more than Gwen and Peter getting chummy together, was that the only one who was determinedly unbothered by it, was the one it concerned the most.

MJ responded to their relationship (or lack thereof, if Tony had anything to do with it) with a slight furrow in eyebrows and the tilt of her head, as if figuring out if she was okay with this (she wasn’t) or if she had any say in it. But, when she saw Peter’s dumb grin, she gave them the slightest of smiles and told them not to be gross. Sometimes, Tony hated how diplomatic MJ could be.

At the end of the day, Tony had a semblance of hope that they could end up together. This hope dropped marginally when he walked into the kitchen and found MJ's face in his freezer.

“You got any ice cream?”

Tony nearly got a heart attack. “What? — How do you keep getting up here?”

“Like, I know you have ice cream, but you got any good ice cream?” she went on, ignoring his question.

Tony crossed his arms. “I have good ice cream. I don’t know if you noticed, but all that dairy goodness in there is ice cream Ben & Jerry's named after me. Stark's Raving Hazelnuts.”

MJ slowly shut the freezer door. “I just remembered I’m lactose intolerant.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes. “Ha-ha. It’s good, though.”

“I hear it’s chalky.”

“From where?”

“Around.”

When Tony realised that she wasn’t going to elaborate, he changed the subject. “What are you doing here? Thought you and the dudes got together every Wednesday to celebrate the fact Friday’s around the corner?”

MJ shrugged as she continued looking through his fridge and various cupboards. “Yeah, well I guess Idiot Number 1 realised that Peter Parker is just as popular as Spider-Man. He’s gone to a party with Ned.”

“A party? On a Wednesday?”

“Could be. Could be a fundraiser, could be a charity event, could even be a wedding — all I know is that Peter is a very high demand right now.” She had given up one finding anything and stood on one end of the counter and pulled out her phone.

“Why didn’t you join them?”

Another shrug. “I’d like to hang out with my friend when he’s my friend. I understand that in public, he’ll either be Spider-Man or Peter Parker: Teen Avenger — ”

“He’s not an Avenger.”

“ — But, I prefer Peter Parker: Dork Extraordinaire.”

Tony hummed in thought. “Have you told him this?”

“Partly.” She looked up from her phone. “I’m getting ice cream, you want anything?”

“Thought you were lactose intolerant?”

“Fine I’m bad-ice-cream-flavours intolerant,” she deadpanned. “Now, you want anything?”

“Cheeseburger and fries. Coke, too.”

MJ hummed. “Cool. Cash or card?”

“I knew it,” Tony sighed. “Cash.”

MJ visibly deflated. “Dammit. I was hoping to get your pin number.

“Not happening.”

She shrugged and pocketed her phone after she made the order. Tony followed her to couch were they sat staring at a blank T.V. screen. He watched as she pulled her feet underneath her and absentmindedly started tugging on her hair — even though it was in a bun. It seemed to be a habit.

“So,” Tony started, “when are you planning on telling Peter you like him?”

“Don’t know if I want to.” MJ sighed.

Tony was taken aback. Mostly, because he wasn’t expecting her to answer, but also because she wasn’t denying it. When Tony said as much, she rolled her eyes and said, “I know how to acknowledge things, Tony.”

He raised his arms in defense. “Never said you didn’t, just that I’m surprised you did.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not gonna make a difference, is it? He’s fawning over Gwen and vice versa — it’s kinda cute, honestly. Like, I catch him staring at her while she’s studying, or working on an equation and it’s like he’s just in that moment. Like it’s just Gwen working and nothing else.”

“Oh, so it’s exactly how he acts around you?”

Her nose scrunched up as she looked at him. “He does that?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. There’s a betting pool we have to see who’s gonna break first and ask the other out. I bet one of my suits that it’ll be you, so don’t disappoint me,” he said jokingly, trying to subtlety instill the prospect into her mind. It didn’t work because she just continued to stare at the screen.

FRIDAY then alerted him that their food had arrived, and Tony asked her to have it brought up. He got up from his spot and moved to the elevator to collect their order, when they dinged open and Scott walked out holding the bag of food.

“’Sup, Stark — ooh, is MJ here? Why’s MJ here? It’s Wednesday, right?” Tony held up a hand to silence him and opened his palm.

“Food first, questions later,” he said, motioning with his fingers to indicate that Scott should hand over the bag. Scott ignored him and walked away to sit next to MJ on the couch.

“Hey, Scott,” she greeted, with a two finger salute.

“Hey. Whatchu doin’ here?”

She shrugged before holding her hand out and Scott more than happily handed over her ice cream. He took out Tony's cheeseburger and bit into it. That was when Tony rushed to intervene with his teammates mouth and his food. Scott merely held the food at arms length away from the billionaire and told him to get his own food. Tony huffed in annoyance about how that was his own food. Scott ignored him and proceeded to take a huge gulp of the drink. MJ just watched in amusement, a smirk playing on her lips behind her ice cream spoon. “See, Tones. Why would I want to hang around a bunch of fame-hungry and genetically modified teenagers when I have front seat tickets to the lamest argument ever?” she asked while Tony and Scott where still bickering over the food.

Tony frowned. “Ned’s not fame-hungry or genetically modified.”

She replied shrugging, “Ned’s special.”

“That he is,” Scott agreed. “Where are they, anyway?” he asked referring to Peter and Ned, shoving a handful of fries in his mouth. Tony hit him upside his head so hard, he sputtered out half-chewed potatoes on the couch. He eyed Tony without a single regret. “I hope you know that you’ll have to clean that up. Because we both know who it’s gonna bother more,” he said in a challenging tone.

Tony stared at him defiantly and MJ mentally counted to fifteen before Tony snapped and went to the kitchen for napkins. Scott celebrated childishly when Tony moved to wipe away the food. He did not account for Tony dropping the napkin in his lap with a devilish grin.

“I hate you,” Scott said. He got up and threw it away. When he came back, he found Tony finishing off the burger while slurping down the Coke. He gave Scott a smirk and Scott responded by flipping him off.

“Totally better than some movie premiere,” MJ said grinning.

“Who’s at a movie premiere?” Scott asked sitting back down on the couch.

MJ responded, shrugging, “Peter and Ned. Maybe. I actually don’t remember what event it was.”

Scott hummed, continuing to stuff his face with chips. Tony looked at Scott evilly then grinned and said in a sing-song voice, “MJ misses Peter.” MJ rolled her eyes, while Scott looked like he wanted to smile, but was fighting against it.

“How do you know?” he asked eventually.

“She told me,” Tony answered in the same voice that got him in the head with a cushion. “She also told me that she likes him.

Scott couldn’t help it and smiled the biggest grin he could muster. He practically squealed with delight and clapped his hands excitedly, then suddenly, he stopped. “Wait. How come you told Tony and not me?”

“He asked first.”

“Fair.” After a moment of silence, Scott asked curiously, “When are you gonna tell him?”

“Why does everyone feel like I need to do something?” she mumbled. “And besides, he’s practically almost in love with Gwen, so I’m not going to bother myself.”

Scott sighed. “There is no way he can be ‘practically almost in love’ with anyone when you’re a person that exists. And, trust me, if there is one thing you can do with these things, it’s try. I mean, look at me,” he gestured to himself wildly. “Hope thought I was just an idiot who stole her father’s suit, but now — ” MJ snorted “ — What?” Scott asked frowning.

“Nothing. It’s just funny how you say thought like she used to think that and she doesn’t now.”

Scott scowled while Tony gave her a fist bump. “Anyway, point is: I thought I had literally no chance with her, but turns out she liked me too! Or learned to like me too. Or is learning to like me too...I need to make a call...” Scott stood up slowly and walked out of the room silently.

Tony looked around and breathed out. “Wow, MJ, you made him question his relationship.”

She shrugged. “Oops.”

A beat. “That was good advice though. You should try.”

She didn’t answer. After a moment she said, “Yeah, well maybe Gwen deserves a shot too.”

Sometimes, Tony hated how diplomatic MJ could be.

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