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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 15)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, doesn't actually happen.

Word Count: 4,008

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Masterlist]

Notes: ENJOY. Also, someone plz tell me they got tagged this time 😭

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Everything fucking hurts.

Your head is throbbing like someone is repeatedly hitting you with a hammer. You can’t even open your eyes because the dots of light in your vision are swimming in circles, and you’re pretty sure if you crack your eyes open and squint into the room you’ll surely lose the contents of your stomach, which is still mostly alcohol from last night.

You groan in agony because it’s the only thing you can do. Curling in further on yourself, you tug the covers up over your head, trying to block as much of the sun, creeping steadily in through the windows, as you can.

A deep inhale to try and ease your stomach brings along the scent of freshness; like night-chilled mist and cedar. The smell is so perfectly balanced, familiar and fresh in your aching lungs that it almost lulls you back to sleep. It’s effortlessly masculine and with another luxurious inhale, your brain connects the scent to its familiarity. It’s the same as the soap you’d used when you were forced to stay the night at the apartment next door, while Feyre and Rhysand had been having their public nudy show in your living room.

You want to snuggle into it, wallow in its comfort all day, but your mind is quickly catching up to you, running that specific thought back a second time, but slower.

It smells like the same soap you’d used when you were at Azriel’s apartment after the rainstorm.

Your eyes snap open and your body jolts into an upright position that makes your stomach roil, shoving your head down between your knees.

Fuck. You drank way too much last night.

You blink away the bleariness, the dizziness from your vision, staring down at your lap. You’re still wearing the clothes you’d ambled over to Cassian’s party in, and the fabric sticks to your skin uncomfortably. You feel like shit all around, sick from the alcohol, dirty from the night spent dancing and sweating, and you’re pretty sure your breath smells like you’d licked the floor of the local dive bar.

Another blink brings the sheets into focus, certainly ones that are not yours. These are a deep charcoal color, softer and smoother than anything you’ve ever touched. The thread count must be in the thousands. The mattress beneath your aching body feels like a cloud, and all of the effort that went into curating such a lovely bed surely shouldn’t be wasted.

You’re impressed for all of a few seconds until you lift your head and realize where you are.

Azriel’s room.

It’s easy to tell because your memories of last night slowly roll in like flipping through pages of your sketchbook.

“Look,” Cassian grunts as you stumble again and he has to put you on your feet again. He’s faring slightly better than you right now, but only because there are women to flirt with. “I know our friendship is still kind of new, but if you keep hanging all over me like this you’re going to scare away the ladies.”

You can’t help but to laugh. It feels good, so good that your chest aches with it. Your cheeks are red with drink, and Cassian hasn’t ever seen you grinning so much.

It kind of scares him.

“Where are your keys?” he continues, his hands warm on your hips where he’s trying to keep you from falling flat on your face. Maybe that last shot you’d taken together had been one too many. “Can I pat down your pockets?”

“I know you wanna feel me up, Cass,” you slur playfully, and his name sounds snake-like, with the way you drag out the S.

“Of course I do, (Y/N), any man would be stupid not to want you,” he comments but his words don’t register because the floor is slipping out from under your feet again.

“Feyre has the keys,” you hiccup. Then, “Are we on a roller coaster? The room is spinning.”

Cassian curses, poking his head out of the crowd to search for your missing roommate. She’s with Rhys, no doubt, but he doesn’t see them in the mass of bodies crowding his apartment. What he does see are a lot of disappointed, single women.

He gestures to you and then slices his hand under his chin in a cutting motion, signaling that he’s not with you, even though you’ve wilted against his chest, rubbing your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt. Cassian watches his message land, their eyes sparkling in intrigue again, and he doesn’t care, he needs to get you somewhere safe so he can take that pretty brunette and her friend to his room.

The safest place in the apartment he knows is Azriel’s room.

“Oh my fucking Gods,” you groan, holding your head when your curse rings in your ears. Of course you’re in Azriel’s room, because you’re fated to end up in situations that will make him hate you even more.

Slowly, you shove the blankets away, slipping your legs over the edge of the bed. The good news is, you feel like you’ve slept for a hundred hours. The other good thing is that you didn’t throw up anywhere in his room that you can see, or smell.

The bad news is that you don’t know where Azriel is.

But at least he’s not currently here to witness you rising from the dead.

Blindly, you reach for you phone, patting across the table next to the bed. In the back of your throat sits a lump that you consciously work to swallow down. Later, you might regret not purging the rest of the sickness from your body, but the last place you want to do that is here, in Azriel’s room. What the fuck did you end up drinking last night? You remember the flaming shots and Cassian throwing out a partygoer who looked awfully familiar.

Then there had been Mor, who had told you all about Rhysand growing up over a few drinks. The longer Cassian had forced the two of you to talk, presumably so he could sneak off to flirt with girls while you were distracted with each other, the more Rhysand’s cousin seemed to relax. Those cutting looks had turned from pinning you to your spot to glaring at any of the girls who came up to the both of you to ask about the hosts of the party.

Mor’s stories had you seeing your roommate’s boyfriend in a different light. And the embarrassing ones were even better. Like the one time they had gone sledding down the slope of Mor’s family home in Colorado. It had been a steep incline and they’d been warned many times not to go down there, but the fresh snow had been all too tantalizing not to.

Their punishment had been to walk back up the hill to the house, and when they were small the trek felt like it was ten thousand steps high. And they had to carry their sleds behind them. Rhysand had thrown up halfway and Mor had gotten sick from the tears of laughter streaming down her face afterwards.

Cassian’s words cut through the smile trying to sluice across your face. Azriel had said something about a date. Your stomach revolts but you don’t know why. The thought of Azriel missing out on one of Cassian’s parties doesn’t seem out of character for the broody man, but going on a date? This is the first you’ve heard about Azriel doing so. You know much more than you’d like to know about his roommates’ sexual lives, but you didn’t think Azriel was even open to going out. You don’t know why you care.

You don’t.

It doesn’t sound as convincing as it may have once been.

He’s ridiculously attractive, so why wouldn’t he be going on dates? He probably has a plethora of phone numbers from girls begging to go out with him. So many that it makes your teeth grind at the thought.

Your fingers connect with your phone and your head throbs at the brightness of your screen, rivaling the sun’s rays spearing through the blinds.

And then you see the time.

“Shit,” you curse, scrambling for the shoes someone had kindly taken off for you. They’re piled at the foot of the bed.

You’re late for class.

Gods, you don’t remember the last time you drank like this. Must have been sometime last year because even with all the wine you’d consumed during your pottery painting with Feyre, Cassian, and Rhysand, you hadn’t felt this badly. This is a next level hangover.

You brace yourself when your hand lands on the doorknob to his room. There’s a lock and it’s flipped shut, so you turn it back carefully, breathing a sigh of relief when the click is quiet.

You freeze in your tracks, breath catching in your throat when you slide the door open.

Azriel is lying on the couch, his body splayed out in a long line. His shirt has risen from where he’s lifted his arm, resting it over his eyes to block the sun coming in through the windows, revealing the cut of his hips. There’s two tattoos painted on the skin that you hadn’t noticed the other night, a pair of feathered wings lining the defining muscle of his hips.

You lick your lips before realizing that in the quiet of the apartment, Azriel is fast asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest helps give him away. That, and the fact that he’s not snarking at you or shooting daggers in your direction.

It’s your saving grace.

The coffee table shoved in front of the couch is littered with cups and rolling paper wrappers, alcohol spilled across its surface. You have no idea how the glass tabletop has survived the rowdy part unscathed, because you’re pretty sure there was one point in the night where you saw a girl standing on top of it, readying herself to fall into the crowd of people congregated in the living room.

The floor is much the same, and you feel like you’re walking a minefield as you tiptoe around questionable puddles and garbage. The stench of alcohol in the air makes your head spin, your stomach protesting and you press a hand to it, trying to comfort the ache.

You escape the apartment without waking Azriel, breathing a sigh of relief that has the remainders of your final drink swimming up your throat.

You make a run for your apartment next door, and thankfully, Feyre answers your knocking.

You don’t like the knowing look she’s wearing, but she doesn’t pester you while you make a break for the bathroom.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take you long to get ready for class.

You’d told Feyre to go on ahead without you when she had knocked softly on the door while you had your head in the toilet, but the sound still clanged through your head like a gong. She was going to get coffee with Rhysand before class and asked if you wanted anything, to which you gratefully accepted.

Even though you have plans to meet Lucien at the coffeehouse for a drink, you need something now or you’re afraid that you won’t make it through the day.

As badly as you want to go and be a hermit in bed all day, you don’t want to miss your classes. Alis is bringing in another model and grading what you come up with in class, and you don’t want to be docked points for missing out.

Your other class for the day is Art History, and you need to show up to be able to drink in as much of the different styles of art as possible.

Dressing quickly, your clothes stick to your freshly-showered skin. You shove a baseball cap over your hair because while you had the time to wash your body, your hair had been left neglected until later tonight.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you snag your sketchbook from your desk, shoving all of the loose papers hanging out the edges inside. It’s a haphazard job at best, but you’re already running too late for your liking, and you can organize them later.

Like as you wait for the Gods-awful elevator your apartment building has.

The queasiness in your stomach has gone down but the piece of toast you’d forced yourself to eat threatens to come right back up when you spot Azriel, his own backpack slung over his shoulder, waiting for the elevator.

You can still turn around and hide away, there’s definitely still time to—of course he’s turning around at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

His golden eyes glitter with amusement and you can’t shove away the shiver that slides down your spine like a paint filled brush as he trails you from head to toe.

“Sleep well?” He asks gruffly, and the sound of his voice makes your knees weak. Tripping on your next step, your sketchbook goes flying from your hands, spilling the loose papers you’d just stuffed in there everywhere.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you can hear Azriel curse in surprise, but you feel the hot mortification slicing through your body. There are sketches of his hands fluttering to the ground. Ones you had drawn while working on your last project for Alis’ class, the one where you drew Leonardo’s Study of Hands. Azriel’s had been your inspiration, and there’s sketches of them in all sorts of poses, some more promiscuous than others, and you’re completely fucking mortified.

You drop to your knees, face burning red as you scoop the papers closer to you, praying that he doesn’t see. Azriel’s already crouching down with you, helping gather some of the drawings, and the fact that this is the first time he’s ever seen any of your work is overshadowed by the fact that there’s a piece of thick drawing paper right next to his boot. It’s creased from its fall, half of it turned up at an angle. You can see the wavy lines you’d tried so hard to recreate from memory. If he picks that up and looks at it you will have to transfer schools.

“Don’t touch that,” you almost screech when his fingers close around the edge of the paper. You watch it in slow motion, the clench of his jaw, the way that his eyes flick down to his hands, marred flesh fully on display. Oh Gods, you think you might throw up all over again. He thinks you mean that you don’t want him to touch your things because of his fucking hands. Your throat tightens, heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure it’s going to burst through your skin. Quickly, trying to rectify yourself, you plead, “No.” Your voice cracks around the lump forming but you shove past it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Azriel’s face is tight as he stands. You scramble, collecting your papers into your arms. He towers over you, even standing, and you don’t like the flicker of muscle in his jaw because he’s clenching his teeth so hard.

You don’t like the shadows writhing through the gold of his eyes, molten with anger.

He hands out the papers he’s picked up and an apology is on the tip of your tongue. Reaching out, you’re just about to grasp them, croak out a thank you, when Azriel drops them.

You watch them flutter to the ground again. The elevator dings and the doors squeal open, but you can’t stop staring at the paper on the ground now. You swallow hard, the mortification bubbling into annoyance.

Azriel’s boots twist in your vision and he enters the elevator without another word.

Your eyes prickle but you don’t know why. The breaths you’re releasing through your nose to keep calm are harsh and shaky. Like Azriel’s hands. You need to go to class, and he can fuck off now.

You dip down and snatch the papers from the hall floor, not caring if they get crumpled in your haste. The doors of the elevator begin wheeling shut but you slip through before they can shut completely, trapping you inside with Azriel.

The tiny, metal box that grinds down the elevator shaft is filled to the brim with tension. You can feel the stiffness wafting off of Azriel’s body, though he’s leaning against the wall like he doesn’t have a care in the world, head currently buried in his phone.

Your anger emits in waves, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. What you had said came out the wrong way. You had in no way meant it in the way that you didn’t want his hands touching your work, but the way you’d seen Azriel go preternaturally still, something flash in his eyes, still makes you sick to your stomach. You want to cry, because they’re not tainted in the least. If anything, his hands are the most beautiful hands you’ve ever seen, imperfect yet so, so perfect.

Of course he had retaliated in the way that he did. You would’ve misconstrued the comment as well, but there’s an itch on your side that tells you he didn’t have to react like that, throwing your papers back to the ground. Another misunderstanding between the two of you.

You open your mouth to speak, but there’s a screeching that’s more horrible than it usually is, and the elevator is jerking to a grinding halt.

You stumble a little, and Azriel steadies you before removing his hands just as quickly. His brows are pinched and the lights in the tiny space flicker before going out completely.

“What the fuck?” You question, pitched higher because of your nerves. You’re stuck, the elevator has stopped working and you’re stuck in it with Azriel. “Oh my Gods, we’re trapped!”

Azriel grunts, punching the buttons on the door. An emergency light flickers on, casting the metal box in a low, fluorescent light. Nothing that he’s doing works, and you’re officially beginning to freak out.

You watch Azriel try to pry the doors open, but even with the bulging of his biceps he’s no match for the metal jaws of death.

Throwing a look over his shoulder, he says, “What are you standing around for, princess? Call the fire department or something.”

“Right,” you respond weakly, pulling your attention from his muscular form. The dispatch is nice about it, sending someone your way and all you have to do is stay calm and await assistance. “Thanks, “ you reply to her, hanging up the phone and turning back to Azriel. “So we wait.”

He looks like he wants to ask more questions, but he nods instead, sinking down and making himself comfortable against the wall. Looking up at you expectantly, you sigh, dropping your bag from your shoulder and collapsing to the floor across from him.

His legs are so long they nearly stretch across the entire elevator, and you can’t help but follow the path back to his eyes, glowing as he watches you. You avert your gaze as quickly as possible.

You don’t know how long it will take for the fire department to get here, so you shoot a quick text to Feyre with your predicament, letting her know that you won’t be able to make it to class and to give your coffee away. Then you send a sad emoji because you really, really needed that caffeine.

Across from you, Azriel’s phone buzzes. He reads it, and then his eyes flicker up to yours in a glare.

“Cassian seems to think that this is funny,” he says, and you don’t know why the deep timber of his voice feels like fingers brushing across your skin. “Why did you tell them?”

“I texted Feyre,” you huff defensively. Crossing your arms over your chest, you level him with your own glare. “I don’t control who she tells.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, shutting off his screen.

It’s silent for a long time. There are no sounds coming from outside of the elevator, and you wonder if anyone has even noticed that it’s trapped. The godsdamned thing takes so long to arrive at any floor that you think most patrons take the stairs now, or give in when the elevator of doom never reached their floor.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, mostly to break the silence. Azriel raises a straight brow and you flush. Sheepishly, you continue. “I didn’t mean what I said in the hall like that. I just—I didn’t want you to see my sketches.”

It’s the most you can give him without spilling the truth of exactly what the drawings were.

Azriel’s jaw works, and it looks like he’s contemplating something important, with the way he’s assessing you. Maybe he’s trying to read if you’re telling the truth, if your apology is sincere or not. The intensity of his eyes makes you want to pull your hat down over your own face to hide it from sight.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He surprises you by asking.

Your lips part in shock. “What?”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He asks again, because he doesn't know how he can word the question any differently.

The question throws you. Azriel’s ignored your apology, and instead he’s asking what you’re doing tomorrow night? Has the elevator getting stuck somehow transported you into the Twilight Zone? Is this even really Azriel sitting here with you?

“Um…nothing?” you respond, and he quirks a brow.

“Is that a question or an answer, princess?”

“An answer. I’m doing nothing. Why?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tipping his head back to rest against the wall, as if he’s contemplating even finishing his question. He looks ever the picture of nonchalance, but what you can’t see is the way he’s curling his fingers to stop their trembling, the rapid beating of his heart.

“I’m having an exhibition tomorrow night. Would you like to join me?”

What? You’re even more dumbfounded now than if that had been the end of the conversation. An exhibition? Tomorrow night? And he’s asking you of all people?

“Who are you and what have you done with my douchebag neighbor?” you ask, shifting in your spot.

A wry smile cracks his mouth and it makes your heart flutter. “Still here, princess.”

Your mouth twists sourly at the nickname. “Let me get this straight. You want me to go to an exhibition with you tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” Azriel nods, agreeing with the echo of his words you’ve just replayed back to him.

“Why don’t you ask your roommates to go with you?”

“They don’t know about it.”

Huh. You don’t know why Azriel wouldn’t invite Cassian or Rhysand to an exhibition he’s having. Well, you could see Cassian wreaking havoc and drinking too much champagne, but Rhys? It seems like the perfect spot for someone like him.

You mull it over, analyzing him. Azriel waits patiently as you study his eyes. The gold is bright under these lights, looking like two golden bars of sun. He’s never been easy to read, and even right now, as you’re trying with all of your might, you can’t find any flicker of anything that tells you this may be a joke.

You tut, crossing your arms over your chest to stop yourself from wringing your fingers in your lap. “Why me?”

“No one better to go with than someone I’m not trying to impress,” Azriel answers seriously. And, he has a point there. You won’t have to hold back from telling him your honest opinion of his work.

You hope that he’s terrible at art, but you have a feeling he’s anything but.

“That doesn’t give me a lot of time to find something to wear.”

His eyes flash and you wish you knew why.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.”

Azriel nods, and that’s that. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight, then.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r

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#midnight muse #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel au

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roseykat · 2 months

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TITLE: Venom Eater

SUMMARY: Moving on proves its challenges. Not everyone has the ability to accept that what happened, happened - and what was, was. So as you try to lead a new life, single and trying to heal, the journey proves to be far from easy. It’s worse than difficult and more painful than what you could’ve imagined. The only comforting source is that what will be, will be. And there’s no changing that.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of breakups, exes, angst, arguments, swearing, smut, slices of life here and there, alcohol (Jisung is drunk but there isn’t much detail on it), confrontation.

WC: 6K+

TAGLIST: @emikisses @linos-kitten @chansbabygirlsstuff @lixiespick @frogieeheart @/fuckthinking @nimx9 @/shishou1687 @inniescandy-01 @konstanceee @/rose13255 @queenmea604

Venom Biter (Part 1) | MASTERLIST

A/N: the long-awaited part 2 to Venom Biter! This was originally meant to be longer but I decided that I wanted to flesh out the plot a little bit more so things will get worse and or better who knows…

There’s never a grey area about what people do after a terrible breakup. It’s always black and white. Whether someone cuts their hair, dyes it, alters their aesthetic, or goes on holiday to escape the reality.

The gym can make for the perfect best friend to subtly take revenge on someone a person once had.

But your new best friend was Tinder. A platform of opportunities to explore and select at your perusal. Providing you with gorgeous men who were looking to fuck and nothing more than that. If Tinder wasn’t the buzz for you that night, it would be going out with friends - friends that didn’t include ones that you made through Minho.

These ones’ you would only see about once every three months then band together again as if nothing has changed in the space between. It’s not awkward when you’re around them and so far, it has taken your mind off the past two months. Since then, your connection with Minho has been one of which where-

“God fuck I’m cumming!”

Minho knows he is too when his eyes screwed shut, laying back as he lets you use his cock, “shit, so am I,” he breathes out, watching you roll your hips in a frantic craze to get yourself over the edge. You miss this.

The way that you squeeze around him is the final straw that breaks the camel's back. Minho swears towards the ceiling, back arching as his dick glides in deeper. Within a couple of seconds, his vision flashes just as white as your insides that he fills.

The top half of your body flops forward onto his chest, spent from the past fifteen minutes that you’ve been riding him non-stop. Now it’s almost possible to hear the rapid thumping of his heartbeat that violently bashes from within. Not wanting to stay in that position for any longer, you peel yourself back, hopping off his body.

“I need you out by seven,” you declare, picking up his sweatpants and t-shirt from the floor and then throwing them right at him.

Minho grumbles but doesn’t flinch, “seven? Fucking hell.”

“Well, I have to go to work so you’re not staying.”

“I figured that,” he fusses before sitting up. “At least let me use your gym here.”

You pause for a second to look at him, wondering where he gets his audacity from sometimes, “fine.”

“Thank you,” he replies then starts donning his clothes as you make your way to the bathroom for a hot shower.

This is what it’s been like for a while now - a pernicious seesaw effect of meeting up with Minho, sleeping with him (usually in the mornings), and going about your day as if he wasn’t in your guts twenty minutes ago.

It’s always a good feeling in the moment but after, there’s a lingering icky weight that you’re tirelessly towing along with you wherever you go. You’re not sure if Minho feels the same because even though you’ve talked to him a few times, there’s no talk of each other's feelings anymore. It’s not that neither of you are ready for that looming and tender conversation. It’s just as if there’s no point.

By the time you were out of the shower, Minho was still on the edge of your bed, fully clothed and ready to leave.

“I’m not making you breakfast,” you say to him, wrapping the towel around your body a little tighter.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to,” he responds. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Can it wait until the end of the day, because I need to get ready for work.”

He groans, getting fed up, “surely you can get ready and listen at the same time.”

You rustle through your drawers for a pair of underwear and bra, “to other people maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you want to use the gym, go now,” you instruct sternly, hoping that he’ll just disappear.

When he detects that he can’t get through to you right now, he gives up. It’s too early to argue, so places his hand on the door handle, opening it for himself to leave and head down to the first floor, leaving you to prepare for another day’s work in peace.

After a quick breakfast, getting dressed and decent, you grab your bags and depart. On your way out, you spot Minho using the weights while you dart past the foyer, briefly thinking about how the time to cut him off is fast approaching.

You can’t keep doing this. There’s no way to move on if you’re both still latched onto each other's ankles like how kids are with their parents. That need for one another is still present.

“Who even am I when I’m not with you?” Minho asked you two weeks into sleeping with him again after breaking up. His comment sums up the reason of ‘why you decide to keep running back to each other’.

It’s not a hard statement to understand. You’ve been with Minho for a long time, you’re both still young and haven’t dated anyone else except between yourselves. It’s like being a dog that was never socialised as a puppy, unable to interact with others because it’s not sure how.

Suppose it’s the fear and anxiety that comes with separating from your favourite person.

The world and society have become scarier than it previously was and life is not as secure when you’re not with the person who can shield you from those things. There’s no comfort, only pure vulnerability, and what better way to feel protected than to return to a lover even when there’s nothing but a feeble spark that’s left over from what was once a blazing forest fire.

Seungmin challenges that particular view of yours at dinner with Felix as well after a long day at work. He wanted to see where you were coming from but also because he’s there to force feed you the icy, sobering truth when you don’t want to hear it.

“If there’s no romance, what’s the point of going back to each other?” he asks.

“They were dating for years Seungmin, you don’t just get over someone that quickly,” Felix responds instead like he was the one being offended.

Dissimilar to Seungmin, Lix will let you down gently and is afraid to hurt you with the sharp use of words that can be sometimes.

“Supposedly,” you mutter to yourself knowing full well how fast it was for Minho to just go ahead and fuck someone else after you had broken up.

“Do you still love him?” Seungmin questions swiftly.

“No,” you respond promptly.

“If there was an opportunity to get back together with him, would you go for it?”

“No,” you answer again. “I couldn’t.”

Felix blinks, not expecting that answer, “well…then…”

“Then stop seeing him if you know what’s good for you,” Seungmin continues. “Those icky feelings that you get after sleeping with him - not good. That’s the regret you’re experiencing and it’ll never feel any better.”

There’s no crack or fault in his advice. Had you not dished out the truth about the details of your messy breakup before and after, you would’ve still been glued to the same spot. It’s important to have someone humble you, and there’s no better person to do that than Seungmin.

“Just keep thinking about it, okay? On another note, Hyunjin’s coming back from France next week so we’re having a dinner and drinks,” Seungmin mentions.

Your mind briefly departs from the subject of your ex, “is he? Has it really been that long?”

“Yeah,” Felix replies, also surprised. “You’re coming right? We’re going to have a few drinks too, and catch up.”

“What time?” You ask.

“Around six,” Seungmin answers. “Does Minho know?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shrug, the thought of him returning to your mind once again. “I don’t know if he’d have any interest in going since they’re not friends anymore.”

Felix recalls that factor, “that’s right. But, if the rest of us are going to be there, we should invite him too, no? Unless it’s too difficult for y-”

“It won’t be difficult,” you reply, punctuating the rest of Felix’s sentence a little too quickly. “He and I can get along for about…ten minutes before things go sour. Plus, I don’t mind not going if he wants to. I can always catch up with Hyunjin another day.”

“You’re our friend too, remember? Don’t let your asshole of an ex-boyfriend stop you from seeing us. You broke up with him, not us,” Seungmin sends you a powerful reminder. “I’ll have a chat with him so that you don’t have to.”

He has a full understanding that if you and Minho were to attempt another civil conversation, it’ll go haywire and lead to more regret that you don’t need to be feeling right now. It just goes to prove that he’s beyond correct to even assume that fact.

The minute you both try to convey how or what it is that you’re both feeling, tensions boil over. For some reason that tension is only resolved by being bent over the nearest surface and fucking it out together.

It’s not healthy.

You go to remind Minho of what he did to you which he hates hearing, not because he denies it but because he does truly feel guilty. His only saving grace to that argument was that you had both technically broken up, meaning there were no ties to one another afterwards. Still, he missed the point of the fact that he hurt you as a result of those actions. It was too fresh to have done that to you.

Even when he recognised that factor, it was hard for him to accept that he actually caused you some form of irreversible emotional harm

However, Seungmin was right in the fact that you broke up with Minho and not your friend which enabled you to leave that dinner feeling a bit better and with a clearer judgement about going forward with a decision to cut all ties with Minho. It wasn’t something to look forward to.

But what was, is the dinner in the upcoming week. It’s the prime opportunity to see everyone again for the first time in over a month.

Despite your collection of text messages and calls from the likes of Chan, Jisung, Changbin and others, it was hard to associate yourselves with them in fear that all they’ll do is unintentionally remind you of Minho. It was the same way he felt when he was clearing out his house - not wanting to be around anyone or anything that would refresh his memory of you.

Now, all you want to do is move on.

Work had a helping hand in that process. Having been so busy with things piling up, your mind was free from Minho during the day. You were able to focus on tasks instead of wallowing and thinking about whether or not to give him a second chance

If it weren’t for Seungmin texting you the details of the upcoming dinner, work-life would’ve swallowed you up whole and made you forget.

From Minnie: 6 pm we’re meeting up, Also, just a heads up, Minho said he’s coming. Take it with a grain of salt though bc he might change his mind.

To Minnie: Thank you :)

You inhale a breath of fresh air. Going to this dinner was necessary whether it was going to be difficult or not. The presence of Minho wasn’t going to stop you from seeing your friends, and with that, you decide to get ready and head straight to the venue.

The restaurant has a separate open area for functions and tables people can book out. The dim golden lighting brings a warm and cosy vibe to the venue, coupled with a beautiful earthy aroma from reed diffusers distributed around the place and the smell of promised good food. It’s a relatively fancy setting, but not to a degree where you would be denied entry if you didn’t meet a dress code.

As you walk further down, you can already see Chan and Jisung chatting up a storm in the corner while they wait for the others. It’s a relief that not many people have made it so far in order to keep as low of a profile as possible and to not draw attention to yourself. However, little by little, they will definitely notice you’re there.

Jisung is the first to spot you, his jaw becomes unhinged as he drags himself out of the booth, speeds over with his face lit up, and throws his arms around you in a bone crushing hug. He nearly squeezes and shifts all of your organs out of place.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he exclaims loudly in your ear.

Chan laughs in the distance at his best friend's behaviour, “let her breathe Jisung.”

He releases your body for a rush of oxygen to surge back to your brain, “sorry, I just can’t help the fact that I haven’t seen you in a month!”

“You Facetimed me Jisung,” reminding him of that one and only time you accepted him reaching out to you to see if you were okay.

“That’s completely different, anyway sit down,” he offers. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Without wanting to hear any protest from you, Jisung darts off to the bar nearby, ordering a beverage or two. Chan then waves out, ushering you to come and sit before you walk towards the booth.

“If I had gone another week without seeing you, I’d probably start to forget what you look like,” Chan jokes, patting his hand down on the space of cushion beside him for you to sit.

“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” you respond.

The second you’re seated, you can already feel Chan’s mind trying to intrude yours. There’s no point in lying to him when he’s akin to one of those Occlumens from Harry Potter, an all knowing person who can hear every one of your thoughts at will. Regardless of the fact that he’s not, it’s his parental nature which exudes that.

“Going okay?” He asks you.

You take a deep breath in and sigh out, “I could be worse.”

“You’re still here though,” he responds wisely. “And so are we.”

Chan never wanted to ask why you never told them or came to them when you first broke up with Minho. They all had to find out through one another then needed to text or ring you to confirm that it was actually real. However, they all knew that you must’ve had your reasons. Naturally, it would’ve been tough to accept let alone leaning on your close friends for support.

“Thank you,” you respond.

“Here we go,” Jisung calls out, carefully returning with two different types of cocktails. “They’re both strong as hell so don’t try to choose.”

“Not that you’d have it any other way right?” you reply, helping him with the glasses as he sits down beside you.

He pats your head as he goes to sit down and slings his arm around your shoulder, “you know me too well. Anyway, Changbin and Hyunjin are here. He just texted me before.”

Chan sulks, “what? No! he was supposed to wait until everyone else was here.”

“To be fair, they were meant to be here twenty minutes ago so Changbin is actually on time,” Jisung responds. “Anyway, how are you missy?”

“Better now that I’m with you guys,” you answer, giving him a bit of a friendly nudge before leaning into him.

Jisung grins, genuinely relieved on the inside to hear that you are. Not that you have been able to notice, but they were all worried for you at one point. The lack of information regarding your whereabouts or even the state of your well-being was concerning. It was almost like you had dropped off the face of the earth at one point, right up until you finally made the decision to start accepting people trying to contact you.

Unfortunately for your friends, they had to learn about what you were up to through Minho, and even today, you’re not sure if what he said to them was the truth. Nonetheless, they all knew at the end of the day, if they were ever unsure or suspicious of what he was feeding to them, they were mature enough to come to you to double check. If they were able to get through to you.

“Good. Now come back and hang out with me because these guys are boring.”

Chan goes to lift a finger and point across at Jisung to object his statement before Changbin rounds the corner with Hyunjin trailing at his side.

The last you saw him was some five years ago, just before he went away to an arts’ school in France to study. Now he returns taller with much more cut and distinct features and a head of light brown hair that’s visibly eclipsed his natural jet-black colour. Despite that, he also seems softer or shy when he gives everyone at the table a half smile.

“Who’d you say was boring?” Changbin prods into the conversation.

Jisung points up with his beverage in hand, “you and Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together with worry, “is he drunk already?”

A bright smile fashions on Changbin’s face when he notices you, “Y//N! Now it’s two welcome home parties!”

Hyunjin turns to look down at you in surprise, “have you been away as well?”

His question serves as a reminder that he has been relatively out of the loop since he’s been gone – not that you expected him to be fully aware of everything since he probably had better things to do. Hyunjin was still active in the group chat, but none of you prefer to communicate that way when hanging out is the better option. Whilst he’s missed out on a lot of stuff that’s happened, he hasn’t been so oblivious to other things.

“Not exactly,” you respond awkwardly. “But welcome back by the way.”

He smiles softly, “thank you.”

The get-together officially kicked off when Jeongin, Seungmin, and Felix arrived just before the second round of drinks was ordered. Everyone was happy to have Hyunjin back. Even for you, it was nice to see him again after so long – it was nice to see everyone in general. The setting was reminiscent of old times when everyone banded together. Whether it was at karaoke, dinner, a bar, someone’s house, or at some event, it’s always a good feeling when you’re around them.

It leads you to feel slightly upset that you haven’t seen them in so long. You’ve missed hearing their laughs, their jokes, and the safety that you feel too. But for a very painfully obvious reason, none of it seems to be the same without Minho.

“Didn’t show up did he?” Seungmin, who had been chatting up a storm with someone at the bar, walks over and takes a seat opposite you at the cornered booth. Just about all of them were alternating from the table to the bar, and a space they’d found to stand up to talk, or in Jisung’s case, dance by himself.

“Mm,” you mumble. “Which I’m sure is a good thing.”

He shrugs carelessly but with a small grin, “for your benefit. Not that I’m an expert in relationship problems but I can speak from personal experience.”

“That’s true,” you respond, remembering that he has in fact had his heart broken a few times by the same person.

Luckily for him, he’s ceased the chase and gave an account the other day at dinner of how freeing it was to be his own individual. It’s something you can only hope to achieve at this point – to be liberated from that sticky dependency you have on Minho.

It’s not love that you feel for him anymore, you’re sure of it. But it’s similar to a violent craving. His skin, voice – oh his voice. Everything about his body has you itching under the surface to have him by your side even though things end in a fiery argument, which is usually how it goes.

It wasn’t love anymore. It was dependency. A type of separation anxiety that fills you up with this icy cold feeling that won’t go away until you specifically have Minho near you. Still, deep down, you knew you didn’t love him anymore.

“Is Jisung okay?” Hyunjin ticks his head towards his friends’ direction.

Judging by the fact that Chan was holding a barely conscious Jisung up was a clear indicator that he definitely wasn’t okay. Never has he been able to handle his alcohol well and it was evident by the lack of control over his own body.

Seungmin looks over concernedly then looks down at his phone to check the time, “shit, I have to take him home too.”

He abandons you briefly to help out Chan. Both of them collectively agree that Jisung needs to go home or at the very least be removed from the bar to sober up. They take him to an empty table nearby and ask the bartender for some water. Meanwhile, Hyunjin turns a blind eye to the chaos and talks to you instead.

“How have you been Y/N?” He asks.

“Yeah, good. You? How was France?”

By the look on his face, it was as if your question brought back a whole heap of good memories to the forefront of his mind, “I couldn’t have asked for a better experience.”

“That’s good to hear,” you reply. “So have you graduated already?”

“Three months from now I will be,” he answers. “Why? You wanna come watch me walk across the stage over there?”

You consider his offer, “what if I said ‘yes’ to that?”

“Then I’d be over the moon,” Hyunjin emphasises then offers a brilliant suggestion that springs into his mind. “In turn, maybe I can show you around France and all the places I went to.”

“Is that a deal then?”

“Sounds like a solid deal to me,” he responds and whether he was joking or not, either way, it seemed a pleasant idea.

During the last hour of the dinner, you spent having an in-depth conversation with Hyunjin. From what he got up to in France, what he wants to do in the future, then covered what you’ve been doing as well

The topic of your ex-boyfriend was difficult to navigate, but you managed it well by diverting to another subject. The last thing you wanted to talk about was Minho for fear that the more you think about him, the more you’d want him.

Then again, you’re reminded once more of the fact that Hyunjin and Minho aren’t friends. He may not have any interest in him whatsoever. But it’s not like they left each other on horrendous terms. Not like how you and Minho did. Plus, it’s hard to see this fresh shade of Hyunjin in front of you, hating anyone he doesn’t like or doesn’t know.

The Hyunjin from five years ago would’ve held a grudge, but now you can see by his shift in personality, that he’s let it go.

When it came down to having to leave, everyone seemed to have their own plans. Seungmin would have the misfortune of taking care of Jisung. Felix, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Changbin decided to go bar hopping while they were still stable on their feet and even encouraged you to come with them. It took a lot of convincing to tell them ‘no’ after you were set on heading home to the comfort of your own space.

Seungmin assured Chan that he was fine to handle Jisung, then thought it would be a polite gesture to accompany your side when you decided to walk home, regardless if it was only a minute's commute from the restaurant.

“How are you holding up?” Chan addresses the elephant in the room.

His question could be seen a mile away. It made you wonder if that was the reason he chose to walk you home since his place is in the opposite direction. Although he wasn’t confronting you, that’s exactly what it felt like.

“Somewhat okay, I suppose,” you answer.

“No, how are you really? We see Minho all the time. In fact, he won’t leave us alone. But we haven’t seen you,” he responds. “You can still hang out with us you know?”

“I know that,” you almost whine, especially after offering your ear to Jisung just for him to repeat the same words for over two hours. “I’ve been busy.”

“I guess being busy is a positive.”

“It’s when there’s nothing to do or I don’t feel good and I don’t have anyone around,” you respond and both come to a halt when you reach the entrance to your apartment building. “That’s the hardest.”

“That’s when you call us,” Chan says strictly. “I know you know this too, but all of us would drop whatever it is that we’re doing to come and help you. Not just Minho, even though I had some reservations about seeing him after what he did.”

The last parts of his words surprised you. Chan actually thought about cutting Minho off too when he found out what happened…

“So he did tell you everything.”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Including everything that you’ve both been up to now. Like how you still see each other now and then – and not for the reasons I had hoped. So why do you keep seeing him when you want to move on?”

Your eyes narrow at him, “how do you even know that I want to move on?”

“The fact that you still sleep with him but won’t pursue any sort of communication to get back with him romantically, says a lot Y/N. And I know that because he’s told me,” Chan answers bitterly, but not in a nasty way. “Your body might miss him, but I know your mind doesn’t.”

He’s bitten through the truth which you can’t seem to, his elderly brother-type personality forces you to see reason. You’d be offended if Minho tried to initiate a conversation about wanting to get back together, knowing that he’s not in any position to be making requests after what he did.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You ask tiredly.

“I want what’s best for you,” he says. “Yes, Minho too in some way, but I told him he needed to figure out what he did on his own because I can’t help him with that. That’s his punishment.”

You supress a laugh, “thank you.”

Your short talk with Chan made you realise how empty your cup had been since you last saw him – since you last saw all of your friends under one roof. It was rewarding and it felt like home to be near them. However, his words weren’t there for you to just defer from. You had to listen to him. He was right in saying that your body misses Minho but your mind doesn’t because the next time he came around, you swore to yourself that it was going to be the last time you saw him.

But it needed a conversation, one that you weren’t even sure if you were ready to have, too scared to rip that band aid off.

As you don your bra back on and shimmy on your underwear that Minho almost tore off, you think of all the possible ways to approach this situation, bearing in mind that it does have the potential to blow up.

“W-We need to talk,” you stammer, wondering if that’s a good way to start. It’s a start, that’s all that matters.

Minho stares at you from the other side of your bed, halfway through putting on his t-shirt, “okay, what about?”

Without any warning, you blurted out what needed to - what must be said, “we should stop seeing each other.”

Heavy silence drapes over the room, except for the cogs working overtime in Minho’s brain, trying to decode your words could almost be heard. You can most definitely see it on his deadpan face. It illuminates the seriousness of the situation compared to what it was five minutes ago.

“Can you give me some more detail about that?” He requests.

“I just don’t think it’s healthy that we continue to sleep with each other when we’re not going to get back together,” you inform him.

“You don’t want to get back together?” Minho poses the long awaited question that hurts to even conjure an answer.

“Be honest, we’d be together right now if you knew that I was serious about it,” you say truthfully. “I’ll never not love you, but I can’t love you in the way that I used to.”

The sheer surprise of the conversation made Minho realise that he’s been consuming too much of a good thing. That he actually wasn’t prepared to talk to you about this. It’s been creeping around the back of his mind since you both started seeing each other casually but ignored it so as to spend as much time with you as he could even though you weren’t with him anymore.

“Right.”

“Look, just…don’t go cold on me, because I do want to talk to you about these things,” you plead with him.

“Such as?”

“Such as our friends,” you start off. “All of us hang out a lot, but I didn’t want our…breakup to stop either one of us from seeing them. They’re your friends and mine too. I’d hate for us to be driven away from them because we can’t coexist anymore.”

“Fair enough.”

You can sense that he’s already starting to shut down. An obvious coping mechanism that’s triggered by something he wasn’t prepared to hear. But while the final shreds of his rationality are still with you in the room, you make haste, and dish out the important points he needs to know.

“We might not ever be friends again even though that’s not what I’m hoping for-“

Minho stands up from the edge of your bed, cutting the rest of your sentence off in the process, “if you’re serious about everything that you just said, then I don’t want to see you text or call me first asking me to come over. This isn’t a one-sided deal that only applies to me, you have to stick to it as well.”

“This isn’t even a deal Minho. I am telling you not to.”

“What? Telling me ‘not to’ because you can’t control yourself around me? Fine. I don’t know if you realise this, but the majority of the texts between the both of us, are mainly sent from you - you asking for me, telling me how lonely you are, or how much you miss my body. So don’t start handing out instructions when you’re not going to adhere to them as well.”

There’s a viper-like sting to his words that keeps piercing your resolve. A truthful sting that seeps poison into your blood, making you feel sick and cold. He’s torn you off your high horse for a moment, bringing you back down to earth to realise that it’s not just him who needs to see reason as well.

He had a very strong argument.

Minho sighs and tails more information to his tangent, “look I will do whatever it is that you want me to do. But, if this is what you want, then you can’t deny that it will only work one way.”

There’s an efflorescence of achiness in your chest. A familiar one that you felt in the early days after breaking up with Minho. It was the same one you would feel whenever you’d have to lock the door to the spare bedroom in his house whenever he bought someone else over.

Heartbreak.

It lingers when he finally leaves with the promise of never reaching out to you again, at least for sex because there was no way of avoiding him in the future. That fact was impossible to refute. But this is what breakups consist of. Not one hairline shy off of being messy. It could, though, be much worse. That’s as much you had to be grateful for when you have to start from square one all over again.

Changing things up was necessary. You had already moved out from Minho’s, which there was no choice behind, but that meant new scenery. Different places to peruse in your own time that you hadn’t yet ever since you had moved out

It opened up new opportunities to visit some local things, especially on your way back home from work as you decide to call into a small cafe.

Soft bossa nova plays calmly in the background as you stand and deliberate on something sweet to take home with you for after dinner. If it weren’t for the many niche options to select from, you would’ve almost missed the voice talking from beside you.

“I heard the matcha bread is nice here.”

Your surprise gets the better of you, almost forgetting how to speak for a split second when you see a familiar tall figure you met once more from the other week.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hey,” he smiles. “Wanna sit down together?”

You end up ordering yourself a warm drink and a sweet pastry to go while Hyunjin found a small table right in the crook of the cafe. His sudden appearance was rather pleasant, allowing you to divert from your own thoughts for a bit. Plus, it’s always nice to sit and chat with a friend.

“I thought you might’ve been here to meet up with one of the others,” you say to him.

Hyunjin nods, putting his coffee down, “I just spent the last couple of hours helping Changbin buy clothes just down the road at one of the shopping centres, so that’s where I came from.”

You smile, “well he trusts you more than the others in that department.”

“As he should,” Hyunjin grins softly. “How are you?”

“I’m well, I just finished work and was heading home,” you respond.

“I’m not keeping you from going am I?” He asks politely.

“No, not at all,” You quickly exclaim. “The longer I stay, the more of an excuse I have not to do the mountain of things I need to for work.”

Hyunjin chuckles, “well, as long as it doesn’t get you into trouble with your colleagues.”

“I should be fine,” you hope.

“You know, when I think about it, you and I never really spoke that much back then,” he points out. “I only just realised that from last week when I saw you again.”

His comment makes you think back too

Hyunjin was definitely part of your friend group, but not one who you would hang out with individually or with another person. He was just there, almost like he was known to you by association. Aside from the fact that he’s well-mannered and kind, the only aspect of his personality that seemed to have changed is how boisterous he used to be.

Although, that’s to be expected when people mature and cross the bridge from adolescence to adulthood.

“True enough,” you reply and start snickering when you remember something funny. “But I have good memories of you though. Like when you threw that bottle at Jisung.”

Hyunjin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, “I remember that. I could’ve killed him with that too.”

“Or when Chan had to pull you up from the train tracks because you fell off the platform and got stuck,” you add on.

“Most of those memories seem to have some type of mortal peril attached to it,” Hyunjin discovers.

“You were young,” you remind him tenderly. “They make for the best memories anyway.”

He agrees, staring into a space on the table as he reminisces, “true. So much has changed since I got back. I feel like I’ve missed out on growing up with you all even though we were just teenagers back then and adults now.”

“Maybe, but we’re still young though and some have more growing up to do than others,” you hint very cryptically at one person who automatically springs to mind. “So don’t feel sad that you’ve missed out when there’s still a lot for us out there.”

Hyunjin sits a bit more comfortably knowing that. As you both continue to talk, he realises how much you’ve changed yet somehow remained the same. You grew into your features, enhancing what was already there to a finer degree. Your looks were Hyunjin’s first impression of you when you first met as devious young teenagers.

That was before he discovered that you are as kind and cool as you come across. But you were just distant friends back then. Now, Hyunjin detected a space for that to potentially change. He wanted to get to know the friend he hung out with here and there.

Even though time threatened to cut the starting opportunity short, it was still a start nonetheless, and Hyunjin was confident that there would be other times to arrive as well. So as the baristas begin cleaning up behind the counter and around the cafe, both you and Hyunjin took it as a sign that it was probably time to head off. You both take your belongings, thank the staff on your way out and head into the night.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin says to you. “We should get coffee again sometime.”

You nod, “I’d love that. I still have your number.”

“So do I,” he replies. “What way are you heading?”

“I’m just literally around the corner, not even a minute away,” you answer.

“Okay, I’ll look forward to your text then,” he says.

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

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rottingpirate · 1 year

Note

Gaz x Tall! Male reader where they are secretly married and 141 see their rings but think they are married to someone else

Secretly married || Gaz x Tall M!reader

Warnings: implied cheating, kissing

Hope you don't mind, but I wrote this as only Gaz having the ring on his finger and the reader having it as a necklace that's not exactly visible.

The whole shitshow started when Price sat silently at his desk, a burning cigar hanging from his mouth. It has been a quiet day so far, maybe because it’s still pretty early in the morning and most of the base was still sound asleep. He had completed all the paperwork that needed to be done, so he picked up a random magazine that sat at his desk, that he didn’t even know where it came from.

It was a white magazine with a bold yellow title and a picture of some model in the middle. It looked like something teenagers would read. He flipped it open at a random page which was a recipe page, Chocolate-covered cherries, sounded pretty okay but as Price wasn’t exactly the cooking type, he skipped a few pages until he found something rather amusing. ‘5 Tell-Tale signs that your coworkers are dating’. He was sure that no one in his squad was dating, but oh well, it wouldn’t hurt to read some stupid assumptions as he had nothing better to do.

‘1. They’re Always Talking To Each Other.’

Damn, at first you’re talking and then you’re suddenly married.

‘2. They Go To Lunch Together. All The Time’ ‘3. They Bring Each Other Coffee.’ ‘4. They Look At Each Other – A Lot’ ‘5. They Tease Each Other.’

His initial thought was Soap and Ghost, but it switched to you and Gaz real quick. You two were always together causing some trouble. Where there was one, the other one was close by. Gaz basically lived in your room for fucks sake.

Do you two always talk together? Yes. You two were best friends, inseparable you could say. Conversations, jokes, gossips, teasing, bickering, random debates, etc. But it could also be the fact that you were the youngest ones in 141, with almost no age gap.

Do you two eat together? Yes. Breakfast, lunch and dinner was always spent with you two sitting next to each other. Sometimes you wouldn’t even talk, just enjoying each other's presence. Other times you two would throw food at each other and laugh together.

Do you bring each other coffee? Yes. Usually in the mornings, you made coffee for each other. But then again, the coffee was for the entire squad so…

Do you look at each other? Also yes. Small glances here and there and looking at each other when you thought no one saw. Even when one of you would be having a conversation with someone else, your eyes would somehow meet.

But with all of these signs there was one problem though, Gaz was married. Price didn’t know to whom, because it never came up before, but Gaz did have a nice little silver ring on his ring finger.

Price decided that it was enough of reading and put the magazine aside. What he didn’t know was that he unknowingly and accidentally started paying attention to you two a lot more. How you two would interact with each other versus how you would interact with the rest of the 141. How sometimes Gaz would slightly brush his hand against yours. How you would rest your chin on top of his head and hug him close. How you would affectionately call him ‘Kyle’. How he would jump on your back from time to time and something Price never noticed before was that Gaz often wore your clothes. After basically spying on you two for a whole week he decided to tell Soap and Ghost.

“You think they’re fucking?” Ghost leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, while Soap stood next to him with a confused and slightly scared look on his face. “Gaz doesn’t strike me as the cheating type though.” Soap continued looking at him, glancing at Ghost before turning back to Price. “He doesn’t, but somethings going on with those two.” Price tapped the table, trying to figure out what to do. Should he even be worried about this? Well it sure would suck for his poor wife, who has no idea that her husband was cheating on her.

“Maybe we should just talk to them. Figure out what’s up.” Ghost was the voice of reason. He didn't want to jump into any conclusions. His stomach twists uncomfortably though. He wishes that it was just a misunderstanding.

After a good twenty minutes they decided on confronting you at the bar that all five of you would be going to tonight, hoping that maybe you’d be drunk enough to confess to whatever the fuck was going on.

In the evening, 10 minutes before you all were meeting up and leaving, the trio was heading towards your room where you and Gaz usually hung out. Maybe they could find some answers while also praying that this all was just a huge misunderstanding. Thankfully, your door wasn't fully closed and what they saw was horrifying. Yep, their suspicions were correct all along. Soap nearly dropped his wallet “Are you seeing this?” You two were kissing. Price pulled both men farther away from the private scene, suddenly scared to do anything.

They looked horrified, truly scared.

“But Gaz is married!”

With a gruff reply, Price said “That’s not good,” he bit his lip, a million thoughts crossing his mind.

“Should we do something?” Soap asked as he looked back at the other two. He was feeling sick all of a sudden. You and Gaz were his friends, and it really wasn’t their business what you two did behind closed doors, but it was just wrong. They had thought that Gaz was happily married. Did you know that he was married? Well, you had to right???

A moment of silence before Ghost speaks up.

He shook his head, “What can we do? It’s really none of our business what the two of them do behind closed doors together.”

“It’s still wrong,” Soap said, all defensive.

Price grabbed them and dragged them along, farther away from you two. “We’re not doing anything. Not now at least ”

You noticed a change in Soap over the next few days and grew concerned. He was acting standoffish with you and Gaz had said that he had noticed the same thing. You asked around, but it seemed like you two were the only ones that he was like that with.

He was your friend, you wondered what was going on with him. Did you do something wrong? “We should ask him,” you told Gaz that night as you laid in your bed with him cuddled up next to you. “I want to get to the bottom of this because I’m worried that we did something to offend him. Did we do something wrong? Is it because I accidentally spilled coffee over him?”

Gaz ran a hand through your hair, smiling lazily at your stressed expression, “It's probably nothing, dont worry about it.”

You frowned, “Well, I am worried.”

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Well, whatever it is…I’m sure we can figure it out tomorrow. Now, go to sleep. 'm tired.” He murmured, before closing his eyes and after a while you did too.

So the next day you and Gaz cornered Soap in the hallway. He stood near the wall, and he wouldn’t look either of you in the eye and you could tell he was really frustrated. He was irritated the entire day and wouldn’t even spar with you. You glanced at Gaz and then back at the mad Soap.

“Soap, we’ve noticed over the past week that you’ve become a little hostile toward us,” Gaz started. “We wanted to know why that was? If you don’t mind telling us.”

“Did we do something to offend you?” You asked, your voice softer. “Because whatever it is I’m sure that we can work it out.”

He finally looked at you, “How could you cheat on your wife?!” He shouted, looking at Gaz specifically.

The outburst left the two of you startled and you looked at one another. Gaz was about to say something, but you cut him off. "Gaz isn’t cheating on his wife, Soap" You were hesitant and confused.

“Price, Ghost and I saw you kissing one another. You’re married, how could you do that to your significant other?! We- I thought you were happily married.”

You were still a little confused. You were pretty sure Gaz told everyone that you two were together. Unless he didn’t. "I thought they knew." You said while not breaking eye contact with Soap.

"Didn't you tell them?"

"I thought you did…"

oh…

Then it all hit you. You laughed a little, pulling out your chain, it had a silver ring on it that was identical to the one Gaz had on his ring finger. "He doesn't have a wife. He has a husband actually and he isn't cheating on him either." You said with a sheepish grin on your face.

He was shocked. “No way…” Soap shook his head, not taking his eyes off the dangling ring. “Holy shit.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “If you're wondering, we’re very much in love and not cheating.”

“Then how come no one knows that the two of you are married?”

“I guess we never told anyone,” Gaz told him, scratching his head.

“Oh,” his cheeks heated up. “’m sorry. Bloody hell, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Fuck, It’s okay Soap, but next time talk to us about it instead of giving us the cold shoulder. We were confused to say the least..”

He nodded his head, “Kay, promise.” He nodded, a small smile creeping on his face. “Fuck, wouldn’t of guessed that you two would be married. Guess it makes sense the more I think about it.”

You all laughed about it for a good minute before deciding to come clean to the rest of the squad. The embarrassment on their faces was too clear and twice as funny.

#kyle gaz garrick #call of duty modern warfare ii #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #gaz x male reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #cod x male reader

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french-unknown · 5 months

Note

Hiii!!!

Can you please write something about a reader who wants to get self-improved?

What I am trying to say is, the reader is kinda of lazy and all they do is sleep, eat, and read. Neglecting studies and being unproductive.

But they want to change. They tried so many times, but they became their previous self again after 2 or 3 days.

Can you please write something like Law, Shanks, Mihawk, and Ace to help them to become their best self?

Like you know motivational and inspiring thing...

I don't know if you can understand this. English is not my mother language. So it's so hard to explain. Sorry about that.

Thank you so much for writing.

With lots of love...❤️❤️❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: law, shanks, mihawk, ace 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐀/𝐍: Hi! Thank you very much for appreciating what I wrote and don't worry about your request, I understood. I hope you will like it and have a nice day! (｡◝‿◜｡) 𝐖/𝐂: 1.2k +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ You had been locked in your room for several weeks and you didn't want to come out. You didn't want to see people. You didn't want to listen to them. You didn't want to talk to them.

✧ You just wanted to spend your days alone in your blankets reading quietly with Law visiting in the evening to sleep.

✧ Everyone outside, even your friends, bored you: their conversations didn't interest you and their reactions annoyed you. Besides, you didn't see what you could talk to them about and, even when you tried, you were cut off. this invisibilization irritated you so much that you ended up not saying a word, plunging yourself even deeper into your boredom, and no longer coming.

✧ You had tried several times to come back to them but your interactions turned on you more and more until the arrival of the Straw Hats who had finished isolating you for good.

Their captain who shouted everywhere and ruined your peace. Their swordsman who turned on his heel in the middle of your sentence when you tried to talk to him. Or their navigator who had cut you off to call out to Shachi who was passing behind you with his winnings from his bets with the crew.

✧ You hadn't left your room since.

✧ Law didn't see your isolation in a good light so, given that you were only reading and your reading stock was dwindling, he mentioned the very well-stocked library of the Straw Hats. Innocently, of course.

✧ He arranged for the Straw Hats to start a party before you could get out. Not wanting to get stuck in the hubbub on your way back to your room, you decided to stay reading in the Sunny Library until the crowd dispersed. Law sent Robin to the library to read her book.

✧ You came home the next morning to talk to Law about the archaeologist who was nice and whose invitation you thought you would accept to meet up to read together. He just calmy replied: “Cool” even though he was very satisfied inside to see you regaining confidence in socialization.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

✧ You didn't have the motivation to do anything to advance your goals. You always pushed everything aside with an "I'll do it later" to continue reading until you found yourself in the evening and said to yourself "It's too late to start, I'll do it tomorrow".

✧ It was like this every day.

✧ One morning, Shanks came into your room humming after you went back. He approached you under your suspicious gaze and took your book from your hands before going to the window and casually throwing your book into the water over his shoulder.

You could have ripped him alive just for that.

✧ However, he took out an old crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket with a quill already inked on it and wrote your objective in large letters at the top of the page. Then he spent the rest of the morning with you on the bed figuring out all the steps to take before reaching your goal. He embellished the page with little drawings here and there to make it more “cool”.

✧ He called himself "the Emperor of the to-do list" throughout.

✧ The next day, you did one of the tasks on the list because it didn't take much time / effort and you could do it from your bed. You simply checked it off and, when Shanks came back in the evening, you showed him.

✧ Every time you checked a box, he showered you with a shower of congratulations as well as special drinking parties to celebrate your accomplishment.

✧ The whole crew also ended up getting involved and they all encouraged you in their own way.

𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊

✧ He was genuinely starting to worry about you: you didn't want to go out anymore and it had been weeks since you had seen the light of day.

No matter what he does, you always return to your bed after stocking up on food in the middle of the night in the castle kitchen. You stay all day under your covers. You would refuse his invitations every time he offered to accompany him outside the castle or during his missions outside Kuraigana. You always justified that you were more comfortable in your bed and that you didn't see the point in going out.

✧ He ironically thought that he was the one called a vampire.

✧ Finally, he got fed up. He waited for you in the kitchen during the night and started talking to you for a long time. You find his behavior quite strange but you keep talking, hoping that he will make fewer remarks to you later about the fact that you always stay locked in your bedroom.

However, when you opened the door to your room to finally snuggle into your soft pillows and blankets, you noticed that your bed was gone. Your bed was missing. You tried all the rooms in the castle but all the beds had disappeared. As well as all the pillows and blankets. There were none left in the entire castle.

✧ He then guided you towards Hitsugibune where his usual seat had been replaced by your blankets and pillows. You were shocked while he gave you the choice between staying on the island and sleeping on the cold stone floor or boarding with him and sleeping in comfortable bedding.

After toying with the idea of sleeping on the cold castle floor just to annoy him, you finally agree to go on his boat.

✧ After a few weeks of traveling, you realize that getting out of bed was the best solution because your days were no longer an endless blur. They no longer paraded at full speed without your having the slightest memory of them.

𝐀𝐂𝐄

✧ You wanted to start sport but you couldn't stay regular.

✧ You could tell yourself all the benefits it would give you (post-session well-being with endorphins, being more active in everyday life, more energy etc.) but you couldn't do it. Even motivational phrases like “the hardest part is to begin!” only made you feel even more depressed when you found yourself hopelessly in sportswear in your bed.

✧ You motivated yourself to do a week then you missed a session because you had aches. And another because you were tired. Then another one because you were lazy and, at rhis point, it wouldn't make a difference.

And you always ended up stopping.

✧ But Ace wanted to help you so he offered to accompany him on his next mission. You never refused to spend more time with him so you agreed.

✧ However, this trip as a couple was very different from the previous ones where you made all your trips at sea with his striker and those on land with the island's transport.

✧ This time, you did everything by yourself.

You paddled on the Grand Line while Ace helped you while telling you about his fights with Sea Kings. You hiked from one town to another while arguing with your idiot lover who had forgotten to take money for transportation. You climbed mountains hand in hand with him as you chatted happily.

✧ Finally, you got a taste for these privileged private moments with your boyfriend. They provided you with enough physical exercises to satisfy you without constraining you and you no longer felt the duty to do these sessions alone.

Congratulations, you found my 3rd Easter Egg Here a ʚ 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 ɞ as a token of my admiration

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #shanks #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader

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yuly · 1 year

Note

I desperately need a part 2 to the “that’s Hotchner to you, agent” plz plz plz 🙃

→ hi lovely anon! ask and you shall receive! cw: only fluff I promise!

Aaron Hotchner x genderal neutral reader

Always Aaron to You

Aaron is not a person who gives his trust easily. Once his trust has been broken, he clams up like a shell and prying that open might cost you a couple fingers. It's been a month now and you are willing to do whatever it takes for him to even look in your direction again. You miss your Aaron, your cuddle buddy, your confidant, your man. Because your words caused him this much pain and undid all the work the two of you have done to get him to express his feelings and be open, you have to think of a way to get him to see and hear just how sorry you are. With Valentine's Day coming up, you decide to use that to your advantage. If he throws it back in your face, you would take it in stride and leave him alone for good, this was your last shot.

Aaron is not a shopping fanatic and he's not the easiest to buy gifts for, you know that he does everything in life for the people he loves, so you decide to take a page out of his book and pray it goes well.

He comes home absolutely exhausted, the case was long, the jet lag severe, and the whole precinct annoyed him to no end. Worst of all, he had to spend yet another day pretending to be angry with you when all he wanted was for things to go back to normal. But his pride was hurt so he kept the act up. As he made his way to the doorstep, Aaron thought of all the non-work related things he needed to get done this weekend and he let out an exasperated sigh. Being a single father with his work schedule was exhausting, to say the least. Aaron hated asking for help, but he so desperately needed to get some rest this weekend. As he entered his apartment, he toyed with the idea of swallowing his pride and maybe asking Jessica for a favour.

Aaron was surprised to find Jack running about the apartment, stuffing a suitcase with clothes, toys and other odd bits.

“Dad! Guess what! I’m going to the Star Wars all-weekend exhibit with Jessica and cousins!!!!” Jack rambled excitedly, nearly foaming at the mouth. Apparently, Jessica was lucky enough to get her hands on some of the last tickets at the very last minute.

“I hope you don’t mind me whisking him away so last minute, I’m sorry if you had plans together or-”

“No, no, not at all actually. Thank you, Jess. It's been a long week I actually could use a weekend in, I owe you.” She smiled and swatted him away. Aaron wondered how his silent prayers of a quiet weekend were answered so quickly.

The next day, Aaron got an email reminding him of a golfing event he apparently booked in advance in the city. Aaron was confused, having no relocation of signing up, bet there was the receipt, from a month ago, under his name and credit card. He had actually been looking forward to going for a while now and must’ve forgotten about signing up. He spent the day catching up and flexing his skills in front of old friends. As he looked over the green hills and admired the view, Aaron got a text from Jessica, a photo of Jack and his cousins having an absolute ball at “stars wars land” as he called it, much to Jack’s dismay. He quickly saved the photo and sent her a thank you text back. At that moment, as the sun smiled down on him from its midday spot in the sky, Aaron felt content and happy, he felt lucky and again, he silently questioned how and why this weekend seemed to only get better. It was almost perfect, save for the small part of him that yearned for you.

When Aaron returned home that evening to find a bouquet of pink and white flowers, he was immediately on high alert. He cleared the area, and scanned the object carefully, only entering his home once he was certain everything was ok. He disarmed the alarm system and quietly closed the door behind him. He went through every square inch of the home, only relaxing when he successfully cleared the premises. He turned his attention to the bouquet of flowers, shades of pink and white staring back at him. He set them down on the kitchen counter, shifting his focus to the small card in the center.

“Agent Hotchner, please accept these as a token of my apology.

The pink hydrangeas symbolize my regret over my words and actions toward you. I hope the optimism of the lily of the valley can bring a rebirth in our friendship, and that the pink peonies bring you good luck, maybe they can be the angel that silently answers your prayers.

- Agent L/N.”

Aaron is taken aback, he honestly cannot remember a time in his life when he received flowers in such a loving gesture. It flusters him as he’s unsure how to place this emotion that was nagging at his chest. The last line makes the cogs in his brain spin and his heart race. Could it be possible that this weekend was your doing? Or was the sweet gesture getting to his head.

“Aaron, is everything ok?” He could hear the kids laughing in the background.

“I need to know where did you get the tickets from”

After a bit of resistance, Jessica confesses that you had gifted them the tickets. She insisted that it was simply a kind gesture and pleaded with Aaron not to say anything.

Within 15 minutes, Aaron is at your doorstep with the flowers in hand.

“Aar-Agent Hotchner?”

“You bought those tickets for Jack didn’t you?”

Your gaze shifts to your feet, unsure how to read his flat tone and fearing the worst.

“Yes.”

“And the golfing, you signed me up for it didn’t you?”

You look up to meet his eyes now, honey-coloured orbs that make your knees weak. His expression is difficult to read but his tone is soft.

“Thought I’d make it up to you, show you how sorry I am.”

His heart aches at how docile and unsure you sound. He lifts your chin up to meet your eyes once again and spares you a smile, “you are my light at the end of the tunnel, I hope you know that.”

A shy breaks across your face, the warmth of his words wrapping around you snugly.

“Hotch-”

“Aaron, always Aaron to you, Y/N. I love you”

You nuzzle into his chest, relieved that this long and drawn-out fight between you is finally over. Something clicks and the final piece of the puzzle has found its place as harmony is restored between you and Aaron.

“I love you, Aaron.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Tagging:

@michasia24 @hizzielover @shamelessfangirl-3 @lilozg-123 @daily-evanstan @justarandommom @hausofwhores

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x gn reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner fluff #fluff and comfort #aaron hotchner x you #yuly writes!

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insertyourselfhere · 11 months

Text

Body Swap Part 2

A/N: Sorry this took so long just trying to find the direction I wanted the story to go in and I got an idea now!

Character Pairing: Gwen Stacy (Ghost Spider) x Reader

Description: It had been a few weeks now with you and Gwen swapping bodies every so often. Sometimes when you went to her world and did her Spider job there would be comparison videos about you, saying that there had to be 2 Spider’s running with the same sort of body, physique just 2 very different styles. When Gwen was in your body the humiliating videos of you sucking a lot had eventually stopped sort of, you knew it wasn’t Gwen’s fault your body is a bit more conditioned for your fighting style and not hers, she preferred to be light on her feet and was very agile, meanwhile you were the complete opposite and offered almost no flexibility at all which was a little different from most spiders. So she had a much harder time to adjust. She spent lots of time with your Aunt when she was in your body, meanwhile you wouldn’t mean to but sometimes you would go and watch sports with her dad and bro out a little. One day she left a passive aggressive note on her mirror for you and you got a bit mad.

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

“Can you stop broing out with my dad” It read in giant letters on her mirror, at this point because it had been so long you had begun a routine of when you knew you were going to swap bodies and live the lives of the other person. You grabbed the sticky note and ripped it off her mirror throwing it in her bin. You knew you had to but a part of you had missed this relationship with someone.

Don’t get it wrong you loved your Aunt from the bottom of your heart and you did have some friends you could bro out with but something about not having a male figure in your life to watch sport with or to talk about people you were interested in. Sometimes you missed that bond, but ONLY sometimes, most of the time you usually ran around with your Aunt doing can drives, cooking food for the homeless, cloth drives, anything you could to help our your community back home, but to you there was something familiar about walking in to see your dad sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand watching rugby.

You walked out of the room, hair and everything done for school and you rushed down to get the bus, Gwen’s dad already gone for the day. You got into the bus and headed to school, not paying attention to what you were doing your brain still on this strange phenomenon that you were experiencing. When you got to your first class you opened Gwen’s book and saw it littered with lots of notes and thoughts.

“What’s going on?”, “Why is this happening?”, “Did some witch hex us?” You kept going around the page until you saw a note that caught your eye.

“What are we going to do Y/N?” You couldn’t tell if this note was deliberate or if she was just thinking out loud but you decided to reply anyway knowing she would see it tomorrow when you swapped back. “I don’t know but when 2 spiders get together, I’m sure we could think of something” you wrote back with a small smile on your face.

“Gwen…Can you answer this question please” Your smile dropped and you looked up, the teacher very clearly looked annoyed with you. You gave her a look and answered the question confidently without missing a beat, she gave you an even more annoyed look. “That is correct, however I feel like you should still pay attention” she went back to her whiteboard and you went back to your book, still finding small thoughts and messages.

You managed to get halfway through the day after going to a couple more classes, one that really stood out for you though was music class, only because you were supposed to be the drummer in the school band and you absolutely could not play the drums to save your life, you even practiced on Gwen’s drum kit when you could and even watched tutorials back in your own body. You managed to avoid playing whenever you had class but the note stuck in your locker said otherwise. “Drum solo due today” You were literally shaking at the idea of going to music class, you thought about skipping but if Gwen put that in your locker it must really be important. You headed towards music class slowly catching up with the rest of your class mates, the teacher brought you all in and before you could even sit down she pulled you over.

“Now Gwen before you get comfortable your going first today” Of course you were, what luck it would be for you to get dragged up first. You went to sit down behind the drum kit and grabbed the drum sticks. They gave you a guitarist to play along with.

They started playing and you literally held your breath, you tried playing the drum kit along with the guitarist and it just wasn’t working out for you. You huffed and tried playing again to no avail, your frustration was showing and the teacher went to stop you. But once you actually focused and put your mind to it the muscle memory kicked in and you started playing, Gwen’s muscle memory of playing for so long took over your limbs and played the drums, beautifully you might add. You had an out of body experience, your mind separated from your body just for that moment. You smiled as you sat and watched her body just take over, she looked like she was in her element, like this was the person she was supposed to be. Soon the experience was coming to an end, you went back into her body and felt the ending of the piece come to the end. As the last beat of the drum hit all Gwen’s classmates stood up and gave her a standing ovation, you felt a little out of place since it wasn’t you that had done it but you gave a small smile and a wave.

The rest of your day was a little uneventful, school finished up and you had a couple of incidents as Spider-Gwen that you had managed to fix up and head on home. As you walked into the house you were greeted with her father laying on the couch drinking a beer and watching the rugby. You waved towards him and moved to Gwen’s room getting ready for the night, before you could he called out to you.

“Hey Gwen, you coming to watch?” You shook your head walking away into your room, feeling a bit guilty you closed the door and hid in Gwen’s room. You headed to her desk grabbing the journal you had bought for her ages ago so you could mark down what you had and she could keep tabs on what you did, you managed to always get a photo of the day too so she could see what you were doing and you stuck a picture of Gwen receiving her A+ for her award. You had another photo of her playing the drums during the class, you grabbed it looking at it remembering how amazing it was to see her play. Even though it literally wasn’t quite her it still made you smile, you were absolutely wrecked from the day so you managed to pass out while holding onto the photo.

You woke up the next day in your own room this time knowing you had swapped back, you stretched your body and heard something fall to the ground. To your bewilderment there was the picture of Gwen playing the drums on your bedroom floor, you scuffled down to grab it surprised to see this had some how made its way across the whatever this was.

“Y/N Are you awake?” You were too stunned to speak and you heard your Aunt knock on the door slowly before opening it, she spotted you splayed out on the floor holding onto this polaroid picture.

“Y/N are you okay?” You quickly sat up and crossed your legs. “Um, I don’t know how to explain this but I have a photo that I somehow teleported across with from Gwen’s body here right now” Your Aunt gave you a confused look and crouched down next to you as you held up the picture, your Aunt took it off you inspecting it.

“This is Gwen?” She asked a small smile went across her features “At least now I know what to picture when you guys swap, also she’s very pretty Y/N” Your face flushed turning red knowing very well how pretty she was. “Get out” You said gently pushing your aunt away from your space, she giggled and got up heading towards the kitchen.

“Breakfast is ready, and don’t forget to read your journal” You shook your head and got up, moving over to the journal on your night stand. You read its contents and was surprised nothing really happened over here, she had a rather uneventful day, mostly just helping our her Aunt with a couple of things around the house, going to football practice and taking down a petty thief as your spider. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed less and less scars and scratches on your body every time you came back. You didn’t realise how difficult your body was to handle but then again it was your body.

You walked out into the kitchen still holding onto the photo that you had somehow managed to bring over here, you walked up to the fridge and placed it on there. Your aunt gave you a confused look and you slightly blushed.

“So you know what to picture when we swap and she’s me” You said, grabbing your bowl of cereal and eating it quickly. She shot you a look and you smashed down the rest of your cereal and headed out to your school now.

“Whats up Y/N” Your best friend as always was waiting for you at the bus stop, you did your secret handshake and proceeded to board the bus as soon as it showed up. You were lost in thought stuck thinking about Gwen’s drum performance and started looking up tutorials again.

“I’m sorry Y/N but you literally have the rhythm of a 80 year old with a hip displacement” You shot him a look and knew he was right but you wanted to try.

“Look just because I went to Prom with Trixie last year and stepped on her feet 8 times does not prove that theory” Your B/F shot you a look and you rolled your eyes looking back out the window again. School came into sight as you prepared to leave the bus you felt a Spidey Tingle.

“What was that about?” You asked looking around, there was nothing alerting you it was just going off, no real direction, no real sense it would just tingle.

“Y/N You okay buddy?” Your B/F asked, you nodded still looking off in the distance but came back and kept walking with them.

“I’ve got PE first up what have you got?” They asked you groaned realising what day it was. “Today is literally my worst day I have Maths, Science, English. Why couldn’t Gwen be the one to take over my Thursdays” You said out loud. “Who’s Gwen, is she your girlfriend?” You blushed heavily looking back at your friend who had a smirk on their face.

“I don’t know a Gwen, that’s weird why would I say Gwen, that’s such a random name to think of…”Your rambling was not helping and your best friend was cackling. “Alright super star I get it, don’t tell me about this mysterious Gwen character then” They punched your shoulder gently and walked off to their class, you were so annoyed at yourself because you knew for a fact that your best friend was going to NAG you until you died about Gwen so Gwen will find out that you mentioned her casually. “Today could not get any….NO NOOOOO I will not finish that sentence cause its always followed by something horrible” You grabbed your text books and headed to your first classes, today you were keeping a low profile unable to get your mind of 2 things that’s already happened today, 1 you bought the photo back from Gwen’s world of her playing the drums which was weird in itself and 2 although it didn’t happen today you still couldn’t get your mind off that scene. Your Spidey sense started going off again for no reason, it was really bothering you, almost like a constant ringing in your ears distracting you from focusing on class, not like you were anyway. You looked out the window and saw the grey clouds rolling in, your teachers voice drowning out as they spoke and it just went quiet.

That ringing noise came back and you were slowly starting to lose your mind. ‘GET OUT OF MY HEAD’ You yelled in your brain hoping for the noise to go away.

‘Is that anyway to say hello to the stranger you’ve been sharing your body with for the last few weeks’

Your body froze, you stood up from your desk looking to see that familiar blonde hair you got used to seeing so often. When it didn’t happen you saw your students and teachers staring at you.

“Ah I’m so sorry I just have to pee….yeah is that okay if I pee?” Your teacher didn’t say anything and just nodded their head as you ran out into the hallway.

You ran towards the bathroom, slammed open the door and looked at yourself In the mirror.

‘This is insane, I am going insane, theres no way I heard Gwen’s voice in my head. Nope. You are crazy Y/N’

‘If I interrupt and say you aren’t does that make you more crazy’

You heard that voice again, you knew for a fact you did it was like she was in front of you. You looked in the mirror and saw no one else. Nothing in your eyes, no weird senses or anything it was just you.

‘This is crazy’

‘Yep’ She replied so casually and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Why is this happening to us’

‘Dunno but your loud thoughts are making it very hard to concentrate’ You could only imagine how loud your brain was, so you let out a deep breath and quietened everything down.

‘Much better, Anyway I don’t know why or how this is happening but um while I have you here I wanted to thank you, for the A+ you got in music yesterday’ You smiled at her, or like in your head? It doesn’t matter, you made your way back to class.

‘I didn’t do anything, believe it or not I have 0 musical talent so it was actually all you, well your body to be honest, I just sat back and watched’ You sat back down in your classroom looking back out the window again, the teacher once again beginning their explanation of Maths and you honestly too pre-occupied with what was happening in your head.

‘Well either way I am impressed so thank you’ She said you could hear a small smile playing on her lips.

‘Well thank you for not leaving my body all bruised and scratched this time! It was refreshing’ You said laughing to yourself out loud. A few more students turned to you and you looked away trying so hard not to bring any more attention to yourself.

‘It was a hard lesson to learn but we’re getting there’ she replied, The bell rang in your world and you got up, moving towards Science.

‘Oh look I was going to tell you when we swapped bodies back but I guess I can tell you now, I um managed to take a photo from your world and bring it with me’ Gwen hummed in her head which caused your head to reverberate a little.

‘Interesting, which photo did you take’

‘I wonder if I could show you?’ you asked trying to project the image in your head.

‘I don’t think this is how that works I think we can just hear each other’ she said smiling.

‘That’s fair, okay it was a picture of you playing the drums yesterday’

‘How did that happen?’ she asked, your face flushed a little.

‘I had finished up the journal I had written for you and legit passed out as soon as I was done, I didn’t realise I was still holding onto that photo’ You lied out of your teeth not wanting to tell her you admired how naturally she played the drums.

‘You know I can hear your thoughts right..’ She said and you had just been caught.

‘Okay well you caught me, so yes either way I fell asleep with it in my hand and woke up here and it was on my floor’

‘I wonder if it happens with anything else, I might try it out with something’ she said thinking out loud

‘Let me know how it goes! I wonder if this whole talking thing is a permanent thing or a today thing’

‘I guess we will find out’

The rest of your day went by very quickly now that you had someone to complain to without getting in trouble. She would also do the same thing, sometimes it would be silent for a few minutes or so but then you would take turns breaking the silence. You were intrigued by this new ability of yours wondering if maybe it was all in your head and not the actual Gwen but with these Spidey powers you have you highly doubted that. It seemed to be some otherworldly thing like maybe there was something you both needed to do. You weren’t sure but you would try your best to figure out what this was and how to fix it.

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astrxsee · 1 month

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FALSE GOD chap. 3

(chap 1) (chap 2) (chap 3)

percy jackson x child of demeter!oc

𝑰𝑵 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑯 Rose St. Claire sets off on a quest to save the goddess in chains.

𝑶𝑹

𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑪𝒀 𝑱𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑺𝑶𝑵 learns to see what is right in front of him.

!CONTENT WARNING! gore, romance, swearing, blood, heavy themes

OMG ITS HAPPENING STAY CALM!! LITERALLY SO EXITED FOR THIS. i love you all and i really really really hope you like this

Whoever's idea it was to send us here, should rot in hell. I plop down onto my designated cot, the poles poking at me through the bottom. My eyes scan around the dull room, the darkness of the interior instantly ruining my mood. Dark green cots were lined up in rows along the edge of the room, with the students things stashed neatly below their respective bed. With nothing on the walls and only one tiny window, it was a dreary place.

I sigh, my head tilted to the side as I glance over at Bianca. Her dark curly hair fell off the back of the lame excuse for a bed. Dark brown eyes scanned the pages of some fantasy novel she held in front of her face. Her dark Westover Hall uniform thrown haphazardly on, with wrinkles lining the button down shirt.

"You know, if you keep your nose in a book all day, you'll fall behind in your classes." I jokingly poke at her, a slight laugh following my words. Her eyes begrudgingly move away from her book to look at me.

"Rose, you have absolutely no room to talk," She snarks back, "You've already fallen behind and we've only been here for three weeks!"

I roll my eyes at her, as I dramatically fall back into my cot. I huff and throw my hands in the air, "I mean, can you blame me?"

She seems to consider my words, "No, not really." Setting the book down on the ground next to her and rolls over to face me, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"Like, we were literally living in a casino where times was fucked up and now we're living in the future?" I say incredulously as my sentences quickly turn into ranting. "It's 2007 for crying out loud! The last year I remember being in was fucking 1976, and don't even get me started on y'all! Bianca, there has to be something wrong with us to be stuck in this shit show."

She lets out a small giggle, my ranting not even phasing her. After three weeks of hearing it, I doubt she even pays attention anymore.

"I know this is all so confusing and weird, but there will be an answer. But for now, let it be." Bianca giggles. I groan, catching onto her reference. I crack a smile, her corny play on the Beatles' classic easing my anger.

"Bi, I love showing you my music, but never say that again."

She laughs again and gives a mocking sort of salute before turning back to her book. I stand up from my makeshift bed, smoothing the wrinkles out of my own uniform. I lazily make my way over to the bathroom, wanting to freshen up before Bianca and I went to grab lunch.

The other girls in the dorm were all out making last minute plans for tonight, the annual school dance. As the only little sliver of fun they allow us, the dance is a big deal. All I heard about for the last couple of days was who asked who and who dumped who, blah blah blah. Dances back in the 70s were my favorite thing. I always met up with some of my friends and spent the whole night dancing to our favorite bands. But, to be honest, I'm not really looking forward to tonight's dance.

The last three weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions. Confusion and unanswered questions clouded my mind every waking second. Weird things that I can't begin to explain happen almost every day. Like the horse with wings I saw on the quad a couple days ago. It seems like I was put on an alien planet.

I feel lost. Memories of my home and my past come back to me like puzzle pieces. Bits and pieces of the same memory keep coming back, screaming at me to put them together. I've seen flashes of a large creature; a larger than life lion with wings and a scorpion tail. A monster you can only find in fantasy books, like the ones Bianca reads. Other flashes of a man, tall and burly with a gruff beard, haunt my dreams. His screams echo around in my head every moment of the day.

The one vision I can see most clearly is vines quickly crawling up the legs and arms of the unknown creature. Vines quickly take over the creatures body as I hear it begin to bellow out, and that's when it suddenly stops. Every night since I left that godforsaken casino, Ive had this eerie dream. I have no idea what it could mean or if it's even real, but I couldn't stop the constant nervousness I felt. My anxiety was at an all time high with the feeling of somebody watching me nagging me every second of the day.

I take a deep breath as I look into the mirror, my mind racing. I lean on the counter to take in my appearance, God was I a wreck. My blonde hair looked greasy and unkempt, the stress of the past couple weeks taking a toll on my body. My green eyes had deep bags underneath them, the usual luster gone. Now they just looked empty and sad. I sigh as I look away, not able to take in the sight of me right now. It's nothing that a shower won't fix, I decide.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

I could feel the excitement in the air as everyone made their way to the dance. Giddy laughter rose up from the girls who finally got to put on their nice dresses. Dark blue streamers lined the entrance to the gym as throngs of students made their way into the gym. On the inside of the dance, there were lights and lasers pointing every which way.

I smooth out the wrinkles in my flowy dress. It was orange and pink and ended right above my knees, it is some of the only clothes I still have with me from home. I didn't miss the mean remarks made from students about how I looked straight out of Dazed and Confused.

Our new friend, Grover, came with us to the dance as well. He asked if he could tag along with us as he doesn't have many other friends. Grover joined Westover Hall only a week after Bianca, Nico, and I joined. With us being all new, it was only right for us to become friends.

"Woah! Isn't this cool! I've never been to a dance before." Grover exclaims wistfully as we walk into the gym. I giggle as he looks around like a kid in a candy store.

"You've never been to a dance before?" I ask, a teasing lilt to my voice. My eyes scan the room, trying to ease into the overwhelming atmosphere that comes with dances.

"Nope, I've only ever gone to boring schools." I scoff and give him a look.

"Grover, this is the definition of a boring school."

"I don't know. I'd say this is pretty fun." He exclaims as everyone begins to dance along to the music. I roll my eyes at his antics, starting to make my way over to the bleachers. I quickly feel Grover wrap his hands around my wrist and pull me out onto the dance floor.

"Grover!" I exclaim, my eyes wide. "What are you doing? I don't want to dance."

"Come on! Have fun!" He smiles, letting go of my wrist gently. I stand awkwardly in front of him, not knowing what to do. My eyes dart around the gym hoping nobody was looking, until I realized everyone was in their own world enjoying this small night of freedom.

The next thing I know Grover has Bianca and I dancing to songs I've never even heard of. We were talking and dancing as if we were in some movie. Grover excuses himself to go get a drink, leaving Bianca and I alone on the dance floor. We giggle as we spot Nico alone on the bleachers.

"Nico! What are you doing? Shouldn't you be dancing?" I tease him, as we walk up to his spot on the lower level.

"No!" He quickly exclaims, "I hate dancing. I don't even like this mu-"

"Children, would you please come with me. There is something we need to discuss." A gruff voice cuts Nico off, instantly filling my body with chills. Dr Thorn. What could he even want? Isn't this supposed to be our night of fun?

I roll my eyes before reluctantly nodding, he is the vice principal after all. I notice a nervous aura around the man, his eyes glancing around the gym and suddenly stopping to stare at a boy dancing. I look back to Dr. Thorn as he became more noticeably angry. My eyebrows furrow in confusion as he quickly orders us to follow him.

My eyes land on the boy on the dance floor. He seemed to be having fun, I don't know why Dr Thorn seemed to be wary of him. The raven haired boy peered over at me, our eyes quickly meeting. I slow down as his blue eyes seem to put me in a daze, he sends me a sheepish smile before looking away. His eyes seemed to be looking around in panic. Bianca quickly grabs my hand and tows me along behind her and Dr Thorn.

"Rose, come on." Bianca's chides.

We quickly follow Dr Thorn outside, the cold breeze biting at my nose. I wrap my arms around myself as I subconsciously take a step closer to Bianca. The pit of my stomach begins to turn, like something bad was about to happen.

As we make it about a football field away from the edge of the cliff Westover Hall was perched on, my gaze falls onto my shoes. I begin touching the tips of my fingers together, something I do when I'm nervous. Bianca's shriek of horror quickly draws me out of my anxious state.

My eyes go wide as Dr Thorn begins growing bigger and his hands grow into giant paws with claws like knives. His off putting face morphs into a giant lion's head and from his back grows two giant gargoyle-like wings. I let out a guttural scream as I quickly try to get away from the creature, scurrying back in the wet snow.

He lets out a deep, evil laugh. His wings spreading out to his full span, casting a darkness over my friends and I. My breathing becomes quick and shallow as I desperately try to get away from Dr. Thorn. Was he even Dr. Thorn anymore?

I scramble backwards, as my eyes dart around the vast field next to the school. The raven haired boy from the dance comes running around the corner, out into the freezing wind. My eyes grow wide as he uncaps a regular pen and it instantly turns into a long, bronze sword. What the actual fuck was happening?

Why was the monster in my dreams right in front of me? Was it even a dream? I fall to my knees as I turn back around to face the monster. He laughs, an evil grin spreading across his face. His giant maw opens to speak.

“Rose St. Claire, so nice to see you again.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

taglist: @cxcilla

#percy jackson x oc #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #annabeth is our friend #annabeth chase #grover underwood #percy pjo #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo

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landing-amongst-the-planets · 9 months

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After seeing Season 5 and the way Miguel beat up three different guys to protect Robby in the fight at the Cobra Kai dojo, I need more of protective Miguel over Robby, so here! It’s not a fic, more an outline xD

4 Times Miguel’s Protective Of Robby And 1 Time He Realises Why

1: Robby and a former Cobra Kai are sparring and the ex-Cobra gets way too aggressive and nearly crushes Robby’s leg. Miguel immediately intervenes and knocks him to the ground and really digs into him until Robby has to tell him to cool it and the guy apologises. Tory and Sam snicker in the background and Demetri hands Eli money. Robby spends the rest of the week thinking about that because no one’s ever protected him like that before, except Miguel. For Miguel it’s just another Tuesday xD

2: Miguel finds out Johnny didn’t tell Robby the purpose of the Mexico trip until they were already there and that leads to the loudest fight the entire apartment complex has heard, and that’s saying something. Miguel thinks it’s unfair to Robby that Johnny put him in that position without even telling him and yet again made him feel second to Miguel. Eventually he calms down after Robby pacifies him and Johnny’s impressed and kinda proud that his two sons are getting along so well that Miguel is even protecting Robby from JOHNNY. Yaya gives Miguel a knowing look and Robby a wink and they don’t know what she means but they oddly feel like they’ve been found out.

3: One of the guys from school asks Robby out and he’s so far removed from karate and Carmen tells him it’ll be nice to have a break from the constant training for the Sekai Taikai, so he accepts. Miguel doesn’t know why but he feels weirdly betrayed by his mom. He ends up recruiting Eli and Demetri to follow Robby on the date “just in case”, citing their newly formed friendship and brotherhood meaning he wants to keep him safe. Eli and Demetri exchange that look they always do when they’re communicating in their own way that no one else understands, but Miguel’s one-track mind lets it go. The date does end up going badly cuz the guy is really disrespectful and too touchy and the next day Miguel’s on TikTok for beating the guy within an inch of his life before Robby, Eli, AND Demetri all had to hold him back. The video shows up on Daniel’s For You page on his newly made TikTok and he can’t help but be glad that someone’s looking out for his mentee, because if anyone knows how rough Robby had it it’s Daniel.

4: It’s movie night at the Diaz-Lawrence household and, after an exhausting game of Monopoly where Johnny nearly throws the board out the window when he starts losing, Miguel and Robby end up on the kitchen table together once everyone’s gone to sleep. They start talking about their childhoods and Miguel learns things about Robby’s that he half-figured but never wanted to think about when he was supposed to hate him. But now, seeing the kid who spent his childhood cooking for himself in dingy apartments and having to sweep up broken shards of the bottles of beer his mom or her newest boyfriend would leave on the ratty carpets, the kid who fell in with the wrong crowd too many times and got taken advantage of, the kid who was alone and didn’t have Johnny around…Miguel can’t help himself, he hugs Robby, a full-body hug, for the first time, and says he won’t let anything or anyone hurt him again. And Robby’s pretty sure he forgets how to breathe.

+1: Of course they don’t figure it out on their own. It takes separate interventions from their friends AND their senseis (yes, even Johnny figured it out eventually….ok, Daniel may have had to give him an intervention first) for Miguel to figure out he has feelings for Robby. And maybe that overprotectiveness wasn’t just brotherly love and friendship. And when he comes to this epiphany, it takes another full week for him to stop babbling nonsense when he sees Robby and finally ask him out. Fortunately for him, Robby likes him back, and fortunately for everyone else, they can finally exchange their money for the bets for when they’ll start dating😌

#kiaz #miguel x robby #robby x miguel #miguel diaz x robby keene #robby keene x miguel diaz #cobra kai #robby keene #miguel diaz #karate kid #mine #miguelrobby analysis

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bewilderedbunny · 1 year

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Line cook Eddie part 3!

Hi friends! I was not expecting to write this so soon after part 2, but I'm rolling with it. Hope you enjoy it!! 💖 (the word counter I used says this is 666 words, thought that was cute) Flirty fluff, light sexual innuendo, cursing, sort of a bit of angst but not really. Eddie x fem!reader but feel free to switch the pronouns if you'd like ☺️ I had to include ABBA in this because I am a Mamma Mia! fan first and a human being second.

Credit to @delishlydelightfuldividers for the divider 💕

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

During a morning shift, a middle-aged man comes into the diner. He's a bit quiet but polite. He has his "please and thank yous" down pat. You check up on him during his meal and ask how everything is.

"Wonderful, my compliments to the chef." he says.

You smile and say, "He'll be so excited to hear that."

The older man looks up at you and says, "I would mention to him to cut back on the salt a bit. He has done a number on my blood pressure enough as it is." as he says that you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder.

"Hey pops. Was my girl good to you?"

You realize this must be Wayne, Eddie doesn't talk about him often but when he does it's with adoration.

"She was great. It's good to put a face to the name since you're always talkin' 'bout her."

Eddie laughs, a little too loud and you giggle at the pink on his cheeks.

One day during your break you step outside to get some fresh air. You can hear Eddie talking to someone near the dumpster.

"You like that, sweetheart? Look at you. You're just the cutest thing I've ever seen." Your heart aches, aren't you supposed to be the cutest thing he's ever seen? You know he's a big flirt with everyone, but you thought you were special. You quietly creep around the corner and when you finally see him you want to cry. He's squatted behind the dumpster feeding chicken to a scruffy little cat while rubbing its back. It's not even scraps from a customer's meal, this son of a bitch cooked a chicken breast for a kitten who, upon further inspection, reminds you of Wayne with its greyish fur and blue eyes.

He walks you to your car after your shift. He started doing it one night the two of you were working and hasn't stopped. Even when you're leaving before him, he walks you out and then goes back inside.

"I'm in a band, y'know?" He says, drying silverware. He's facing you and has his hip pressed against the counter.

"Oh yeah? An ABBA cover band?" You joke.

"How'd you guess? We do a cover of "Chiquitita" that'll knock your socks off."

You stop rinsing cutlery and look at him.

"I know you're kidding, but I love that song."

"Yeah?" He says, turning away from you. He's known it's your favorite for weeks. You were humming throughout your shift once and he spent the following day at the record store trying to figure out what song it was. He eventually went up to an employee and hummed it to them until they could help him find it. He bought the goddamn ABBA record.

You lightly flick him with water and he acts like you've just waterboarded him, stumbling around and gasping for breath. He reaches toward the faucet and flicks you back, he throws more water than you had and you gasp, "You're getting me wet!" His eyes get huge and he starts to giggle. When you realize why you giggle right along with him.

You come in for your dinner shift one day and notice a stack of papers at the register. You pick one up and see a sketch of a fire-breathing dragon. The dragon is guarding various food items like pancakes, milkshakes, burgers, and fries. All of the papers are copies of this drawing and next to the stack, there is an old box of crayons. You ask your coworker what this is, and she says Eddie brought them in this morning to give kids something to entertain themselves with while they wait for their food. You can't wait to hand them out and you save any colored in pages for the next time you have a shift together so you can show him what a hit they were.

Thanks for reading 🥞💖

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #line cook eddie

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sajiri · 2 months

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Can I tell you guys a story?

When I was a teenager, I had sketchbooks of different sizes full of art. I was drawing every day. One of my favourite things to do was to create fantasy maps, and one night, after I had spent about 2 weeks working on a map for my fantasy setting in my A3 book, I proudly presented it to my parents.

My mother's response was to look at it unimpressed and shake her head, then turn to my dad and say "she shouldnt be living in a fantasy world." I slinked back to my room in shame, and not long after that, my parents threw out my sketchbooks, my pencils, the manga pages I had been working on. The day I was moving out, as I was coming and going from their house to move my things out, my mother was also throwing out anything she considered too immature, like my how to draw books, my D&D books, my posters, the printout of all the artworks friends had done for me, anything I couldnt get to in time. I basically didn't do any traditional art after that. Anytime I tried, I would just feel depressed and anxious. I would feel guilty, like I was wasting my time. I did eventually get back into art, but I stuck to digital only. It's nearly 20 years after that day I had shown them that map I had drawn, and I have finally been sketching in a sketchbook again. This was mostly prompted by my imposter syndrome, where I felt like I was incapable of drawing without digital tools anymore, only to realise that not only could I still draw traditionally, but...I was actually having fun. I was just drawing for the sake of drawing. It wasnt a commission, it wasnt something I intended to upload.

Today I went out and bought a better sketchbook (Since the one I had has extemely thin paper). I gathered together all the art supplies that I had saved back from when I was a teen, and that extended family had gifted me over the years in an attempt to encourage me that I never used. And I drew something. And I coloured it. And then I wanted to cry.

I had fun.

#art #traditional art #personal talk

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suckishima · 5 months

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man i love this sequence so much—and tbh their dynamic in general which i feel like we don't talk about enough

on paper they seem like such opposites—and they kind of are—with tanaka being a mood maker and morale stabilizer for the team, he's loud and boisterous and never holds back what he's feeling ("dial down my feelings?? what does that even mean??"), while tsukki barely speaks on the court, openly admits to disliking loud and excitable people, and seems to calculatedly hide his emotions away. you would think they wouldn't like each other and wouldn't work well together, but i think every interaction we see between them is a positive one

we see them kinda partner up to roast other teams or their own teammates, but also tanaka is one of the few senpai that tsukki seems comfortable openly making fun of directly. but then tanaka doesn't even ever seem mad by tsukki's taunts—occasionally he'll even pass judgement on how successful tsukki was with his comebacks. and tanaka will just throw a jab back easily, which tsukki doesn't really seem bothered by either—tanaka never gets under tsukki's skin the way kageyama does, for example

and then we get a great little sequence like this one that's deliberately pointing out their differences and then using them to emphasize something more, and it's just so effective??

what tanaka goes through in the first set of the inarizaki match of feeling like he's not doing enough and having it shoved in his face that he'll never be the best, is like a speedrun version of what tsukki has been going through since he was in middle school when he found out his brother was lying about being the ace. there are these little subtle callbacks too—with the dichotomy of being lame vs cool (yamaguchi calling tsukki lame for not trying and tsukki thinking yamaguchi is cool for saying so), and furudate even uses the same visual metaphor of a never-ending staircase

it took tsukki years to realize he might be looking at things in a destructive way, and then months more after that until he actually saw the merit of trying—and then even here we can see that he doesn't find any of this easy. and tanaka basically does all of that in thirty minutes or so.

and while tsukki seems perturbed by this, he isn't mad at all. you can feel the respect tsukki is veiling behind his words in the first panel of the page when he calls him "ridiculously mentally tough." it's "frightening" to him because it's something that doesn't come naturally to him personally, when it obviously does for tanaka

of course it's important to note that the situations are completely different in terms of the catalyst for those feelings, tanaka didn't have some world-shattering event he's been struggling with since he was a pre-teen (that we know of). he just had an off day. but what i like is that the emphasis here isn't really about the circumstances, it's about their attitudes, how they each react to feeling down about themselves

and i just love the way furudate put this page in here. we just had this awesome sequence of tanaka scoring a well earned set point by doing a move he's been practicing for months after he spent all match feeling inadequate—sounds a lot like tsukishima winning set 2 vs shiratorizawa with a stuff block that was preceded by months of extra practices from him, but the reader (rightfully) isn't thinking about tsukki at all. until furudate gives us this conversation and we're reminded (not specifically or directly of tsukki's moment but) that this feeling is something other players, other people go through too. like, furudate didn't have to put this page in here, the chapter and tanaka's moment would have been just as epic without it, but i feel like it just adds this extra little emotional grounding to it

it just, it feels so human. getting down, being hard on yourself, feeling or even knowing you'll never be the best, everyone can relate—it's a storyline we've seen in haikyuu before but furudate always manages to make it feel not only fresh but satisfying because of how they present it to us with a new lens every time. tanaka and tsukki are so opposing in their character and actions that it makes their moments feel different and new, so it's just as cathartic for the reader every time, even though the underlying message is the same

whether it's hard or not, it's always cooler to try

#..i wrote an essay again... i always think i have one (1) thought and it turns out a thought is worth 1k words #fun fact ive been collecting screenshots of tsukki and tanakas interactions this whole reread to eventually do *shrug* something with lol #tanaka #tsukki #hq #hq meta #what more do you need #2021 reread #x #long post #if only i could write my fic at these speeds lmao #ugh and this post touches on a ton of themes im trying to integrate into current fic too and its just been. not working lol

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

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The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Twenty-Six: No Way Out

Hello all!

Thanks so much for your lovely responses to the King of Hearts game! I was a little worried posting it.

Just a trigger warning from me. This chapter has some very dark self-destructive thoughts in it. Kind of suicidey. If you're avoiding anything along those lines, maybe read with caution, or don't read at all. Even if I don't know you, I'd much rather have a world with you in it :)

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I had first encountered Foucault during my first year of university. For one week I had spent days holed up in the library, and late nights curled up with a reading lamp, all with the goal of trying to decipher an obnoxiously over-complicated chapter of Discipline and Punish. I had given up after fifteen pages.

And now, I wished I hadn’t.

There was two key things I remembered about the panopticon prison. Prisoners would have to constantly check their own behaviour and assume that they were being watched at all times. That, and the fact that barely any actual panopticons were ever built because of the horrible effects on prisoners’ mental states.

I could understand how they felt. Everything about the King of Hearts game was untrustworthy. Unless all the players communicated - and therefore cheated - your points would linger around 25. The game couldn’t be won otherwise. But communicating through the webcams posed the risk of being caught by Izanami. And even if you knocked on the walls or floors, you couldn’t guarantee that Izanami wasn’t your neighbour. It was impossible to be sure whether she was watching you or not, meaning there was no choice but to assume that she was always watching you. A true panoptic vision.

And even if a player did risk cheating, there would be no way of knowing whether they were trying to convince everyone else to pick the wrong answer, so that they can gain extra points by being the only person to select the correct one.

Slumped over the desk, I sank my head into my palms. My eyes stung with exhaustion, and this game was only making my headache worse.

I’m so tired.

I just wanted an easy way out, but this wasn’t it. If anything, a game like this only forced your hand. I could just choose to accept a Game Over by not answering at all. Or I could purposely keep choosing incorrect answers. Even then…

The point system is stacked against me.

So far, there were three outcomes:

If a mixture of people pick or choose right and wrong answers, we each gain or lose one point.

If everyone picks the wrong answer, we all gain one point.

If only one person chooses the correct answer, that person gains five points and the other players lose three points.

In other words, the players had more to gain by lying to one another than by working together to select a wrong answer. But there were still possible outcomes we hadn’t seen yet. What if everybody selected the correct answer? Would the prize still only be one point, or would it be more? And what if you’re the only player who selects the wrong answer? Even if I kept choosing random answers, or incorrect ones, there was still a chance that I would end up gaining points instead of losing them.

It would be easier to just avoid answering and take the Game Over.

A new question appeared on the screen, and upon reading it, I groaned. Of course Izanami would throw curveballs into the mix. As if this game wasn’t hard enough.

‘Round 4: What is the average lifespan of a couch in days?

1 - 2958

2 - 3405

3 - 682

4 - 1276’

Who the hell would know the answer to a question like this?

The timer began to count down from five minutes. Holding the remote in both hands, I watched the other players fret over the four options, muttering soundlessly under their breaths. The woman in the straw hat held up four fingers to the screen, only for her neck to burst open in a fountain of blood. Several players jumped out of their seats, some unable to look at the screen as blood splattered over the woman’s webcam.

She needn’t have bothered. There was no use in winning this game.

We may not even get to go back to the real world.

Just three minutes and twenty seconds. Three minutes until everything would be over. I was just so tired of it all. The games, the endless deaths, constantly living on the edge… I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

Four thuds sounded from the wall just below the desk. The person on the other side had obviously taken a risk in assuming that my room wasn’t the Watchtower, and was trying to pass on a message.

Two minutes and forty seconds left…

Beneath the desk, I kicked my foot against the wall four times in return, although I wasn’t sure why I did. If everyone chose option four, we would all gain a point regardless of whether it was correct or not. But did I really want to play along? What would I gain from it? Even if I survived, the only people I cared about were gone, and I would likely die anyway at the hands of the King of Spades.

What difference would it make?

The seconds trickled away from two minutes to one. I was careening towards death with every second that passed, and if anything, all I felt was peace.

Fifteen seconds.

I would become one of many lost in the Borderlands. A soul among thousands. There was some comfort in that.

Seven seconds.

My thumb stroked the controller, tracing circles around each insignificant button as the seconds ebbed away.

Three.

I took a deep breath, thinking of the warm summer rain, candlelit nights laughing with Kuina, the warmth of Chishiya’s bed as I crawled in beside him.

Two.

He was gone, but I still…

One.

My thumb pressed the fourth button. I didn’t understand what strange compulsion drove me to do it. And although the correct answer was, in fact, option number one - 2958 days - every player had voted for option number four. My points jumped from 24 to 25. I was back in square one.

There’s no way I can win this game.

Even as the next couple of rounds passed, I didn’t understand this drive to continue, or why I was doing this. My fingers simply moved on their own, no matter how I willed myself to give up already.

Three more rounds passed by. There were now only 16 of us left, and my points had increased to 28, not because I truly knew the answers, but because for some strange reason, I guessed and somehow got lucky. I didn’t trust any of the other players. I didn’t trust myself either.

‘Round 10: Which finger is easiest to lose, grip-wise and function-wise?

1 - Little finger

2 - Thumb

3 - Index finger

4 - Ring finger’

I felt it again, this mysterious pull forcing me to choose an answer… refusing to let me give up and die here. I just couldn’t understand it. Why did I have this will to survive when there was nothing holding me here anymore?

I looked over each of the four options presented on the screen. On the other monitor, there were so many screens either turned black with blood splatter, or depicting lifeless bodies slumped over in their chairs. Another collar erupted in the corner - a man’s lifeless body slid off his chair, and he disappeared from view. I narrowed my eyes, unfazed by the sight.

Since when did this become normal to me?

The thought dissipated as the person next door kicked the wall once. But they were wrong.

The answer wasn’t the little finger. It was the index finger. If I remembered correctly, I’d read somewhere in a book that if you lost your index finger, the other fingers would make up for the lack of function.

Wait, I think it was that medical book.

Back at my family home, there was an old book on the study of medicine that was kept in the living room. It was outdated by today’s standards. Its bindings were fraying at the corners and it was practically falling apart. However, it was my brother who had discovered it at a second hand shop and—

My brother.

How could I…?

It was like waking up from a dream. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation that I had forgotten all about the one person I had been fighting for. My eyes welled with tears, and my face crumpled as I finally sobbed into my hands. I was such an idiot, recklessly gambling my life away while he was still waiting for me in the old world.

I’m so sorry.

I was selfish, trying to run away from my problems yet again, instead of facing them and dealing with them head on. After Chishiya first scolded me at the Beach, I thought I had learned my lesson, only I hadn’t learned anything at all. I was still too naive, too emotional.

But there was no time for emotions. There were only fifteen seconds left of the round. Wiping my face with my sleeve, I jammed my thumb on the third button down with only seconds to spare.

No matter what it takes, I’m going to fix this.

Clearing this game… finding Kuina… going home… I would fix it all!

The timer reached zero, and sure enough option three glowed green. I had been correct. But what was interesting was the distribution of points. Everybody else had chosen option one - the little finger - bar myself and one other person: the young man in the green cap. He looked thoroughly annoyed, taking off his cap to run his fingers through his hair. I smiled at him through the monitor.

So you must have send out a signal to try and trick everyone.

I had unintentionally sabotaged his plans. He would have to get used to it. I was 29 points strong, and hell-bent on winning. The next question appeared, and this time, I was ready.

‘Round 11: What is a group of ravens referred to as?

1 - A shiver

2 - An unkindness

3 - A curse

4 - A mourning’

Maybe luck was finally shining on me. With newfound confidence, I selected option 2, and under the desk kicked my foot twice against the wall. So far, I felt that I was able to trust this mysterious other player, even if they had been swayed into choosing the wrong answer before.

With plenty of time to spare, I relaxed back in my chair. Kicking the wall under the desk was the safest option for communication as the King wouldn’t be able to see it on camera. However, I didn’t dare move to the other side of the room and start banging on the opposite wall or poking the ceiling with a broom. That would be far too obvious.

There was only one problem. As more and more players were killed off, eventually it would become impossible to communicate by banging on walls and floors, and we would have to rely on the webcams. And with that came a higher risk of being Izanami’s next victim.

The minutes diminished quickly, and before long, the round was over. Option number two glowed green. I was correct, as expected. But interestingly, my points increased from 29 to 32.

I gained three points!

I wasn’t the only one. It seemed my neighbour had spread the message without me knowing, because every single other player had gained three points. Every other player except one. And to my disappointment, it wasn’t the man in the green cap.

The woman who had lost her boyfriend was crying into her palms as her points dropped by five. Perhaps it was impossible for the message to reach her room, now that so many of us had died.

could still follow the strange logic of the points system, even if it was horribly unfair. If you were the only person to guess correctly, you’d receive five points while everyone else lost three. It made sense that the system was reversed if you were the only player to choose wrong.

My eyes drifted across the monitor, coming to rest on the teenage girl as she slouched over her desk. She was blinking rapidly, not out of any code, but in an anxious flurry. Anticipation fluttered within me, and closing my eyes briefly, I could still feel the steady drip of blood against my cheeks, every drip slowing like a weary heartbeat, the pressure of the ball pit, a suffocating darkness.

Perhaps this time, I can change things…

‘Round 12: On the periodic table, which element has an atomic weight of 1.00794?

1 - Caesium

2 - Arsenic

3 - Radon

4 - Hydrogen’

I didn’t have a clue how to answer the question, but it didn’t matter. Even if we were wrong, if I managed to pass the message to everyone, then we would all win the round. Choosing one at random - Radon - I kicked the wall three times. My neighbour kicked three times in return - message received. But it didn’t guarantee that the message would spread to everyone. I looked again at the teenage girl. She was biting her fingernails, as she looked over each option on her other monitor. I needed to find some way of communicating, and fast. But how? What could I do through the webcam that wasn’t too risky or drew too much attention to myself?

Think. Think!

A brainwave hit me, and despite my lingering frustration, I was grateful to Chishiya in that moment.

Pretending to be deep in concentration, I leaned my chin on my hand, tapped my fingers thrice against my cheek, paused, then tapped again. I repeated the pattern, always making sure that my expression was more pensive than hopeful to disguise the message as a nervous tick.

As the minutes whittled down to mere seconds, my nerves began to shred, my fingers clenching and unclenching to try and ease some of the tension I felt. And when the fourth answer - hydrogen - glowed green instead of Radon, my heart soared… only to sink as the points changed.

Every one of us lost five points, aside from the man in the green cap who had gained five. I had sank to a pitiful 27 points. However, it was the teenage girl who caught my attention most. She was shifting nervously, eyes glassy and unfocused. I sucked in a breath. She was at 15 points. In as little as three rounds, it would be Game Over for her.

I can still change things!

Clearly, it wasn’t enough to just select any answer and hope that everyone else would choose it too. Not everyone would be satisfied with gaining just one point.

I peered at the monitors and rubbed my eyes until they stung. Outside the window to my room, the afternoon sun was burning through the city. Time was wasting away. Soon the next question would appear, and what little time we had would drain like sand.

There was no time to waste. The only way to win this thing was to figure out the right answers.

But how?

#alice in borderland #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #Chishiya x reader

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moonlitinks · 2 years

Text

what fate decides [taehyung x reader] [part 2]

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summary: You're a beta in love with your best friend, alpha Kim Taehyung. Except you know that you can never fulfill his dominating urges, so you draw a line between the two of you. Cherish his small kisses and embraces until an omega has to come along.

Until one day, you're not a beta anymore. Now, it's nearly impossible to resist the protective, endearing alpha in front of you.

pairing: taehyung x reader

chapter tags/warnings: angst, self-depricating thoughts, fluff, alpha/omega, a/b/o dynamics, best friends to lovers, slow burn ish, smut, mature, swearing, car accidents

tags: @theblueslytherin @tatyhend @tinyoonsblog @vsmith0099 @midnightsora @cupcakesxdomjoon @likeshatteredrainbowglass @scuzmunkie @kookiwu @xjiminsthighsx @dreadity @lovelytaes-blog @noooodlllleeee @ggukkieland @namjoonshug

You remember how he used to creep through your window and curled up next to you. Your bed creaked as you let him settle, but every sound—as he took off his shoes, chucked off his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, all this illuminated in the moonlight—shattered your heart. It’s as fragile as glass whenever he’s around, and wonder how many more times you’d have to mend it together until it’s just not possible.

“What’s it like?” You had to ask. “Being an Alpha?”

You’re sure that your memory is different from his. All you remember is coming home one day, ready to throw the kid out the window because he annoyed you all day, placing pranks for you around the school and sticking his tongue out. It’s not fair that the sunbae’s loved him too, and that he got away with everything if he smiled wide enough. The boxy smile and crinkling in his eyes were enough to melt any girl’s heart, including yours. Though you expected to confront him about that and skipping classes, his mother confronted you—telling you he was an alpha.

He was sixteen then. You seventeen. But by then, you were well-aware of the impacts of designation. Enough so that you left without asking questions.

His arms went around your waist. Mouth near the back of your neck, him burying his face in your shoulder. Legs tangling up with yours. As a beta, senses weren’t as heightened, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t smell someone else on him. Mijun. And it made you want to throw up. Because it’s all too clear what he spent the night doing—calming his urges down.

Well, not urges, but… yeah. It was mutual for the two of them, and you liked Mijun as an acquaintance. She was one of the few people who treated you nicely and hung around Taehyung at the same time.

“What’s it like?” He asked in return. “Being a Beta?”

“Dull,” you responded. Hopeless. Beta’s and Alpha’s don’t go together. They just don’t. Biology demands for an Omega to be with an Alpha. Same with the other way around. You, you were like the leftovers the world created. The followers—the secretary in the movie that cleaned up after everybody’s mess, but was never given credit for it.

At least, that’s how it felt as a teenager.

“Uncontrollable,” he told you. Added, “The only time I feel like I’m in my right mind is with you.”

Yeah, because you’re logical. There’s nothing more to this exchange except that you two will be friends. And it only made the bitter taste in your tongue get worse.

That part didn’t change.

There are certain telltale signs—other than the additional signs of aggressiveness, stronger scents that even you can pick up, and constant growls—that accompany Taehyung when he’s about to go into rut. For one, the idol becomes impossible overbearing, becoming attached to your hip and hovering over you like you’re either pregnant or weak.

This is one of the many reasons I didn’t come to Korea, you think, as the alpha comes in with several grocery bags. Like come on, you are a Beta. Capable of carrying both an Alpha and Omega on your backs, which is why usually you had positions where you were the mediator. It’s a talent, multitasking—doing jobs and calming down both so called levels simultaneously.

“Did you want to eat something?”

“No,” Taehyung mutters, scowling at the string of hoodies on the ground. In your defense, you were entranced in a scene, and refused to be sucked out of it. Cleaning up after yourself would cause you to lose all the ideas you came up with plot wise. “I’m cooking tonight.”

“You learned how to cook?” You laugh.

He scowls. “Of course I learned how to cook. Who’s going to take care of you? All you do is order to-go food.”

It’s not just the food that’s annoying him—you can tell. It’s the fact that the two of you fought over where you would stay. Taehyung kept arguing that his apartment was available, but you didn’t want to take advantage. And yeah, you understand that it’s stupid not accepting a free space where you don’t have to pay rent, but then when you think about how the media would portray it, it all sounds wrong. So you reside in a small apartment a bit larger than your studio, and let him come over.

“Hey!” The protest rings loud and clear. “I can cook a great ramen, where the noodles aren’t overcooked and there’s just the right amount of broth. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“No, because ramen isn’t healthy.”

“If you’re going to be like this, find an omega to spoil, Taehyung ah,” you joke. Your heart clenches, but you force the smile to remain on your face. It’s better this way, to create distance. Now that you can’t do that by land or ocean, you have to do it through words.

Yes, it’s painful, pushing Taehyung away. But you’ve lived with the fantasy of a beta and alpha being compatible for years, only for it to be crushed whenever he slept with another girl, or snapped at you through his ruts. Just like the alpha could be gentle, he could be vicious, too. And it wasn’t—isn’t—your job to calm him down in that area.

It’s his omega’s.

98% of marriages between an alpha and beta end in divorce, you tell yourself when the idol clenches his jaw. Taehyung and you won’t be any different, not that he’s even interested in you in the first place.

“So, what are you going to cook?”

“Curry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. The other hand is placed on the small of your back as he kisses your shoulder, then your forehead. “Go rest, love. You look like you’re about to topple over.”

Yeah, because the mattress that you bought—one of the cheaper ones—isn’t as great as the one in America. And as you’re getting older, your back is only annoying you more. So you lay on the sofa as Taehyung cuts the green onions and starts chopping the carrots in silence. When he started cooking, you can’t even recall. All of a sudden, he just starting to grow taller than you did, and take care of you like you used to take care of him.

It’s unsettling, really.

You want to scream.

In joy, of course.

Heading home from a cafe, you’re beaming, nearly tripping over the sidewalk as you run home. You managed to finish plotting your novel, and are finally—finally—satisfied at how it would turn out when you start writing it. And today is the day—it has to be. You’re running home when the idol himself calls.

“You have a meeting today with the PD?” You ask. “Or do you not have anything better to do than annoy me?”

“Ha,” Taehyung mutters. “Funny. I was wondering—” That’s when you spot him. Wearing a coat and dress pants, along with a pair of sneakers by the streetlamp. The wind’s blowing, sending the December snow scattering into your eyes, but you squint through it to get a better glance at him. Your nose is cold, and your teeth are chattering, and you should be home. But here you are, picking Taehyung up. There’s a scarf around his neck, but you know it’s not from him. It’s not his. Shivering, your hands are too numb to press the end call button.

Taehyung’s eyebrows knit together, but then he glances up. His eyes are smiling already when he steps forward. And you don’t think. You run.

Stupid, stupid mistake. The light might be green, but the snow’s heavy. And your timing has always been terrible. Your legs ache, but then you slam into something. Lights—yellow? white?—flash in front of your eyes, and you don’t know what happens. You’re just on the ground. Your bones feel like they’re shattered, and you whimper. It’s more than numbness you’re feeling now.

Fire. Fire is spreading all throughout your body, and it’s like something has knocked out your voice, making it impossible for you to do anything.

Then fear. It sets in like the ice pricking your skin. You want to thrash, but you can’t.

“Love? Love. Love,” he repeats. First with the nickname he gave you, then your actual one. Hovers above you, calling your name, voice hoarse and throaty, panic laced in the edges. Just like always, you’re drawn into Taehyung, your senses tunneling in to focus on nothing but him. Even the sirens drift into the background, along with the other hands that are grabbing you, checking your pulse, making sure you’re alive.

“Stay with me!”

BONUS (cause I was bored and wanted to stay in this drabble for a little longer):

Providing for you pleases Taehyung. You don’t know it, of course, but the way you unconsciously react to him—eyes brightening, lips curving upwards, and head tilting back—it tells his alpha that you’re submitting to him, eager for his return. Sometimes, before he can think better of not ruining the friendship the two of you established, he’ll lean in and wrap his arms around you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

Fighting the urge to mark and bite it. Leave hickeys around in the area so everyone—including you—can know you’re his. For now, he has to provide indirectly. Making sure that you have a nice apartment, one that isn’t blocked by other buildings and has the right amount of sunlight. You also like the garden balconies, so he gets you one.

Anything you want, anything you need, it’s yours.

“We could sleep. It’s just the same bed,” he protests. “We’ve done it since we were kids. Fuck, we take naps together even now with you and top of me.”

“That’s on the sofa.”

“And what’s the difference of it being on a bed?”

“There is no difference,” you hesitate. “But you are in rut, Taehyung.”

“Noona,” he sighs. “I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m in tune with my alpha, and I know when my rut will hit me hardest. I promise I’ll be out by then, but I just want to cuddle with someone who’s not my members at all. So come upstairs, okay? I’ll be waiting.”

He’s not wrong—he is comfortable. Legs tangled together, you let him play with the strands of your hair, arms wrapping around his waist. You can hear his heartbeat, head laid directly over it. That, along with the soft coos his alpha makes, causes your eyes to grow drowsy. So when Taehyung pulls away for a second, you mumble incoherent words, something about your heating pad disappearing.

And then the alpha hears it—the soft whines that settle when he molds himself to you again. It subsides in an instant, and his eyes widen when he takes in your closed eyes and parted lips. If anything, your beta is calling out to him, and though the two pairs—alpha and beta—aren’t usually mated, this itself shows that you’re attached to him.

More than attached. Attracted.

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