#thanks for joining me for another incoherent ramble
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I just had. One of the worst days
#you know what time it is!! it’s mal rants in the tags time againnn#we were. INSANELY busy today cause it was so hot out. which one have been a Regular Bad Day but then. our boss had to leave at like 11 am#which left us understaffed and yaknow whatever We’re Understaffed Every Day but THEN. our fucking ticket machine broke#we rely on the tickets to know which smoothies to make and which orders are done right. so when the tickets malfunction we’re stranded in a#boat without a paddle. we were struggling to keep customer orders straight and they were getting Mad because yaknow assholes#we eventually worked out a system of writing names on cups but not before we got yelled at by a whole slew of customers#I’m so. tired. need rest. this is the third day in a row I’ve had such a bad day#on Wednesday my friend’s mom decided to pick me up an hour and a half late for no reason;;;;;;; which meant I worked a nine and a half hour#shift on a Busy Day. yesterday was a Regular Bad Day. today. today was oh my dear lord god. i can’t do this you guys#oh and of course no writing is getting done. the second I get home I collapse. I’ve been watching TOH eps over and over and over#idk where else I was going with this I’m too tired to remember#mal rants#thanks for joining me for another incoherent ramble
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𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞
Fearful that Bucky only likes you for your body, you finally gather the courage to tell him how you feel.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, oral, insecure!reader, mentions of body worshiping, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, fluff
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Masterlist | W/C: 733
̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ
Being jealous of something that was a part of you felt stupid, and yet, you fell victim to the blossoming insecurity.
You shifted slightly as Bucky spoke down to your pussy, mumbling incoherently as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. At first, it was endearing how much he worshiped you. Whispering how much he adored you between your thighs until you came around his sweet lips.
Until one day you felt disconnected – as if he was no longer worshiping you but solely what rested between your legs.
After hard days on the job, he wouldn't say a word. Would just slide open your legs and speak to your cunt in that sweet tone of his. "You're so pretty aren't you?" He'd sing. You knew he was talking about your pussy, so you never uttered a word in response besides loud whines and moans.
It continued like that for days and eventually, you grew tired of never being asked about your day. Missing the time when he’d rush home and the only thing he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms. When “my pretty baby” meant solely you.
You needed him to speak to you, to worship you face to face. As foolish as it seemed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he no longer saw you.
̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ
Tears sprung into your eyes as you tried to confess your feelings. You despised confrontation, and this was exactly why. No matter what emotion you felt, they were always accompanied by watery eyes.
"Hey— hey, what's wrong sweetheart?" Bucky quickly joins you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.
"What am I to you?" You whisper.
Bucky's taken aback. "My everything." He began to panic internally. Had he done something wrong? His worst fear was always disappointing you, hurting you. And seeing your face wet with tears as you question your relationship had his knees buckling.
"I feel like you don't care anymore," you hiccup.
He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you into a hug, kissing your forehead softly. He’s thankful you don’t pull away. "Please tell me what I did," he pleads.
You shake your head, laughing dishearteningly at how pathetic it would sound coming out of your mouth. "You know what. It's stupid I'm sorry. I'm just being overly sensitive."
His gaze hardens. "If it's enough to make you cry then it's not stupid. I just wanna help you, baby. Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”
You inhale shakily before speaking, terrified that Bucky would find you needy and pathetic for what you were about to say. "You only want to speak to my fucking cunt, James. You come home and don't even speak to me sometimes. I— I feel like you're using me." Your eyes widen after the last sentence, afraid that you pushed it too far. You knew he would never use you but god you couldn't help but feel as if he were.
Another wave of tears streams down your face as you await his response. "M'sorry baby, I know you probably never meant to do that and I don't know, maybe it's nothing at all and I'm just being more whiny than usual. I'm sure nobody on earth has complained about their boyfriend speaking to their fucking cunt and—"
Your rambling is cut off as Bucky smashes his lips against yours, his arms pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so sorry," he groans. "You're completely right to be upset. I should've realized...I was just so caught up in my own shitty days that I failed to realize I'd come home and not ask about yours."
He couldn't even continue speaking, not when he was envisioning you thinking about how he possibly didn't love you. That he only cared about what was between your legs and not the beautiful personality and person in front of him. Bucky began to tear up, he couldn't hold you close enough.
"You mean everything to me, doll. I'm gonna start praising you face to face like I should've been all along."
You whimper against his hold. Thankful that he was so understanding of your needs.
"I love you so much," he whispers. "Love you more than anything and anyone in the world." His eyes connect with yours in pure disbelief that he’s with the most gorgeous soul he’s ever met.
"I love you too Buck," you sigh happily.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fics#bucky barnes#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#angst#hurt/comfort
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Hi hello I had brain rot and popped this out! Idk if it’s an incoherent horny ramble or not but SKIDIBOP MM DADA BOOM💥💥🤯🤯🤯
Rating: Explicit
Tags: A/B/O, Alpha!bucky, omega!reader, reader is inhuman and former hydra asset, confessions of love, mating cycles, TW//non-descript sexual assault, horrible self talk, hydra trash party tendencies, Sweet fluffy big boy Buck, breeding kink, marathon sex, pnv!sex, kinda feral ass behavior, scenting n marking
@lovelykhaleesiii @godrakin @borikenlove @ilikeitbetterangsty @connorsui I think I got my Bucky slores all counted out ;)
Feral. - B. Barnes
Bucky was panicking, sour pheromones leaking from his pores. He was an alpha, technically, but would be entering his first rut after years of chemical castration by Hydra. Rendered him beta. Now it was coming up on him, soon— you could smell that much.
Being one of the few omegas around that offered to help him out, your own powers would ease the inevitable roughness of a feral Alpha. Bucky chose you due to your close friendship, both Hydra superpowered assets. You guys could relate to each other. Although you never had to miss a heat, your handler taking full advantage of your needy state.
Bastard.
Bucky had all the signs of rut coming up; aggression, hypersensitivity, appetite, and smelling up the entire room. Stark had banned Buck to his apartment citing, “It fucking stinks, go wear him out for the love of God.” You had grabbed your clothes and favorite nesting blankets to join the brunette soon after.
Subtle cramps made you shift, the fuckers scent alone would send you into a synced heat. He smelled good, like a woodsy smell, a winter’s day, all that sappy nonsense. Bucky grunted, “What if I hurt you? Like bite your mating gland without meaning it?”
You tapped your neck, nail clicking on an invisible collar. Bucky stopped in his tracks, brows furrowing. “They have guards for that. You can lick and scent all you want but no bitesies Barnes.” He groaned, “Thank god for the future, I guess.” Another cramp hit you, hissing involuntarily at the pain.
Blue eyes flicked to you, him coming close to you. He asked gently, “What’s wrong?” You clenched your teeth and gritted out, “You. Going to send me into heat soon so stop fighting it and worrying.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he gulped, coming to terms with the reality of the situation. Fucking his good friend, you, who he had intensely mooned over for a while now.
The brunette nodded and gestured, “Do you need to nest first? I’m just going to, uh, eat a little more.” You rolled your eyes at his obvious stress eating. He was cutely fluffy now from the transition of Romania to the Avengers compound, trying to adjust. Cramp, ow. Grabbing the blankets you mounded and moulded them to your own liking. Bucky’s scent only made it better, you taking a deep inhale.
You cried out as the first real pang of heat hit you, slick gushing forth, sending you into the nest face first— drooling and whining for Bucky. Usually you used suppressants, hating how submissive and fucking stupid you got, the intense emotions brought up old memories. But not this cycle, waiting for Bucky had you back to stupidtown.
Bucky almost snarled in concern, swallowing down his protein bar and crawling onto the bed. You clawed at your clothes, ripping off the top easily. “Buuuck, help, leggings, stupid!,” you managed. The brunette yanked down your legging and underwear, growling, “Don’t call yourself that— fucking hell!”
Oh. There it was. He’d finally hit it. 
Bucky groaned deeply, taking off his clothes haphazardly, you could hear the ripping and tossing while drooling on a blanket, biting down in agony. You whined, “C’mon Alpha, knot, need it, fill my pussy up!” The normal you cringed on in the inside, but Bucky nodded along. He rasped, “Fuck yes, yes, gonna fill my pretty ‘mega up.”
You could almost purr at Barnes referring you as ‘his’.
Buck’s mismatched hands gripped your hips, sliding an impossibly fat cock between your weeping folds. A shiver wracked your spine, mewing and crying his name at the feeling. He rumbled in that Alpha timbre, “Be a good omega and just take it, make it look easy, please.” By the end of the sentence your sweet Bucky had leaked out some. Turning around to gaze at him he slid in your cunt with a grunt, fangs bared and eyes blazing.
Swollen and fucking hot he speared you fully, stretching and overfilling underused pussy. It had been so long since you’d fucked someone and damn you were glad it was him. Your pussy ached and widened around him, gushing profuse slick. Buck groaned and snapped his hips forward, dragging along everything. He let out a strangled moan, “Fuck, dolly, so goddamn tight. Gonna bl-blow fast.”
“Hurry up and fuck me then!”
A rough smack to your ass had you shutting up with a whimper. Bucky jackhammered your pussy, grunting and gasping, poor thing’s dick probably hurting. His hips smacked into your own, a metal hand pushing at the small of your back for a different angle. You wailed, Bucky cursed and pressed his soft belly to your back, chomping and nosing eagerly at the protected mating gland.
He couldn’t get enough of it, moaning and lapping like a baby alpha fucking his first rut toy. Big hands explored your body, one coming down to toy with your oversensitive clit, making you gush further. The closeness and angle had you whimpering, need forcing you to whine, “Oh, Buck, kiss me, please!”
He blinked dumbly at you, lips swollen from mauling your scent glands. You whimpered, emotions immediately jumping to: oh he hates you, used up omega. The alpha frowned and seized forward clumsily, noses mashing together as he kissed you. He still fucked you raggedly, cock swelling and pulling at your walls.
A pink tongue darted out to claim you, Bucky getting the point and tilting his head for better access to your mouth. He moaned desperately, lips driving across yours wet and messy. You threw back an arm to cradle silky-soft brown hair, fucking back onto that thick cock. “Fuuuck, knot me up baby, need it.” Bucky rasped back, “Yeah?”
“Want it, wan’ your knot, feel s’good,” came the resounding whimper.
Bucky kissed you harder, moaning into your mouth as he fucked deeper, more shallow thrusts than anything now, thick fingers pulling at your clit. He growled, “Omega, so tight— mine.” He shoved your hips flush to him, groaning chest deep and guttural as his knot popped and blew inside. You wailed and scrambled around him, that hot cum painting your insides.
Bucky whined deep in his chest, gasping against you, holding squirming hips still as he filled you up. The Alpha lapped and scented you further, murmuring dazedly, “Won’t be able to smell like another alpha again. Never.” His fingers dug into the softness of your hips, locked in now. You panted and shoved your face into the blankets, overwhelmed.
“Jus’ move to the side,” you said quietly. He gently, so very gently, eased the pair of you to the side. The knot pulled a bit, making both of you hiss. Now spooned in the fucked up nest, Bucky seemed to be dozing off, nose shoved into your mating gland, puffing softly. He slung an arm around you, making sure his entire body was plastered to your own.
Some alphas were clingy like that. Not many. Heat abated by Bucky’s knot— your mind inevitably cleared up. Emotions and old thoughts swirled in your brain. Sometimes you’d have to go through heat with a random elite of the world, them getting a present with the inhuman omega. Once you’d been through the humiliation of being used they’d dump you off with your handler, Sitwell.
He made sure to let you know you were nothing but a whore for Hydra. Used to the point where you were nothing but an easy fuck. “No self-respecting alpha would mate you,” he’d tut while inside you. Your chest clenched up, stupid stupid stupid emotions making your eyes burn.
In the same horrid voice as Jasper your mind hissed. Bucky wouldn’t want you. He knew you were easy and used to ruts. You couldn’t wash off the years of filth and scars on your nape. The great Bucky Barnes would get through this first rut and go find a more demure, self-respecting omega. Hot tears pricked at your eyes, chest beginning to heave.
Bucky’s hand came up quickly, cupping your cheek to get a look. His thick brows furrowed at your likely pitiful expression. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Woke me up when ya’ soured, you hurting?” His concerned expression made you cry harder— chest aching for this to never end. The alpha tightened himself to you, a big thumb wiping your tears. His sculpted lips pulled into a frown.
“I-it’s stupid, been a long time for me too, sorry,” you apologized.
He didn’t seem phased, concern wafting off him in waves. The former assassin practically cooed, “Hey now, seriously, what’s wrong? Spit it out baby, I know you better than that.” You stared into dead serious eyes, knowing deep down Buck would win this contest. Mouth gaping in horror you had no clue how to respond.
“C’mon ‘mega, breaking a man’s heart,” he begged soft and sweet.
Turning away from his gaze, Buck’s hand gently pulled you back with a huff. Taking a deep breath you rambled manically, “I stopped my heats after getting out of Hydra. It brings back…stuff. But I wanted to be there for you and I know I’m an easy option and all, I mean being the pass around for whatever need obviously I know how to handle Alphas.” A titanium thumb in your mouth had you rendered mute with a sudden squeak.
His face softened, pheromones swelling and making you feel woozy. Strong fucking Alpha. The anxiety in your chest abated from the scent. He asked, “Do you really think I’d care about your past?” You shrugged lightly, unsure. Blue eyes turned hard, “Give me a list and if they ain’t dead I’ll personally go castrate them.” Bucky took a deep inhale of you again, relaxing some.
“Look at me.”
You peeped nervously.
“When you offered to help I thought my dreams were coming true,” he pecked your temple, “You’re the only one I want, was gonna tough it out if the only girl I care about didn’t volunteer.” You smacked a big shoulder in shock, squeaking, “No- no you’re lying- this is a joke.” Bucky shoved his knot a fraction deeper inside of you, still swollen to hell.
He deadpanned, “Does this seem like a joke to you? I wish the damn thing would deflate so I can fuck your pretty self already. Been lovin’ you for awhile now.”
Whimpering in desire you clenched down involuntarily, Bucky’s eyes rolling back with a groan. He kissed you again, breathlessly laughing, “I thought you’d think I’m too crazy, overweight, and a load of baggage.” Smooching him back you shook your head to declare, “No, no, you’re perfect as is. This is perfect. Don’t want it to end. Love you too.”
“It doesn’t have to, babydoll,” he cooed into your lips.
After confessing one’s feelings, fucking your official Alpha was much more intense. You’d talked it out with him waiting on the knot to deflate, both of you self-conscious balls of anxiety causing the miscommunication. In full, fuck Hydra with a fiery sword.
You’d grown more heat dazed first, losing any touch to speak normally, writhing around. Buck played with your clit until you’d cum two times, chanting his name like a litany. He was goading you on with a smirk the entire time, cocky as hell now, “Yeah, that’s it, squirt for your fuckin’ Alpha.” Or he’d groan in your ear, “Good girlll, yeah, smell so sweet.”
His knot finally went down and now half crazed you rutted back on Bucky’s cock with hoarse shouts, biting into a blanket. He met you eagerly, slapping your ass and talking non-stop. The brunette moaned, “Goddamn baby, fucking ah, sh-shit!” He nudged thick thighs inside your own, using strong hands to pull you onto him. The whole place smelled of sex pheromones.
“Gonna be my big Alpha and breed me up?,” you teased deliriously, not even sure where this came from.
Bucky rumbled deep in his chest, one of those possessive hands pulling you upright to lock around a slim throat. He rasped in your ear, hot breath puffing, “I’ll fuckin’ give you some pups, s’that what you want?” His hips stuttered, cock beginning to swell again as you wailed. Please please please.
“Make you mine for good,” he nipped at the covered mating gland again, “I’d kill anyone who’d take my precious omega away from me, killing anyone who hurt you, mhm.” You turned your head to kiss his swollen lips, hand digging into his hair as the Alpha dug into you. His soft belly fit perfectly into the arch of your back, hips clapping against your slickened cunt and ass. Your brain purred about how big and perfect he was, a good protector.
Bucky begged suddenly, thrusts sloppy and stilted, “Rip th-that collar off, lemme bite, c’mon love— only one I want, make you a mama.” His lips insistently kissed, hands almost frantically grasping you. A bolt of heady arousal spiked up your belly, the need to be claimed and mated taking over. Bucky as yours sealed with his pretty white teeth, you dripped more at the thought.
Pressing the release on the collar you rocketed into a perfect, quiet, blank euphoria at the feeling of Bucky’s teeth piercing your skin. Things felt complete. You sighed in relief, the held on disgust and shame floating away. Coming back to within seconds you snarled and locked onto his pulsing neck, sealing the bite with a lap. Bucky gutturally groaned, knot popping once again, him following you down to the bed.
The pair of you didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity, hoarsely catching breath, living in the moment. Bucky nosed at the now swollen patch on your neck, commenting dopily, “Wonder what Tony’s gonna say when you pop back out with this.” You hummed and squeezed the big arm around your waist.
“He’ll probably stutter for a minute and then act like he knew all along. Steve won’t be surprised.”
Bucky laughed, “He never is.”
His hand splayed out against your stomach, murmuring, “I know you’re on the pill but I meant what I said. Wanna make the ‘mega I love bred up.” You possibly couldn’t get another orgasm out but his gravelly tone and words made you clench. Touching the bond mark you replied, “Wanna make the alpha I love a daddy.”
He groaned, blues rolling up, “Fuck, yes.”
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Captain Ava & Captain Lizzie
literally cannot wait until we get more development on this plot bc it’s so so good
also I got around to listening to the Black Rose One-shot and Lizzie was originally blonde??? ik her design was changed a lot during the campaign in general but I’m deciding to play around with that info—I’m thinking she started dying it after joining Shadowbeard’s crew
anyways thoughts I had about Ava/the Ferin’s while designing her (possible spoilers or maybe just incoherent rambling):
gave her a rifle bc I feel like she’d have sharpshooting capabilities on par with Drey, but a pistol just didn’t seem appropriate for her. but I also see her favoring close-range attacks so she also gets a big knife as a treat
I think it’s mentioned in an episode how Jay looks more like their mother, May, so personally I think Ava resembles Jayson much more with certain aspects (specifically height, nose shape, eye color, hair ‘style’— Jay got his more square-ish face shape and broad build; they both have the same eye shape)
expanding on that fiery hair ‘style’ thing— I’m thinking that’s smthn that just kinda comes with the Ferin abilities and I’m thinking those powers need to be unlocked in a way?? there’s no other reason I can think of as to why Jayson has the flaming hair and specific magic skills while Jay doesn’t, so I’m thinking Ava may have been more in-tune with/naturally drawn towards the Ferin magic (esp since we see her using that golden form during the animatic sequence in ep101) while Jay become more influenced by May’s magic (since I think she spent the most time with her esp after Ava’s death). maybe Jay and Drey suppress their Ferin abilities (Drey def intentionally, Jay maybe a bit unintentionally?) and it could kinda explain why Jay has special blood: she’s a mix of two [supposedly] powerful magical heritages
I also have this thought that Ava may have unlocked these powers earlier than most of the Ferin’s, resulting in a fate similar to Gillion’s where she was regarded with pride for this yet constantly pressured and trained into becoming a weapon for the Navy (perhaps by request of Grandma Fey, who seems to be a very controlling character and could be the reason Jayson acts so cold and ruthless). and when she failed to uphold their beliefs that’s when The Order was given (maybe they found out about her & Lizzie???)
BUT in comparison to Jayson who absorbed himself in his work, and Gillion who was forcibly separated from his family, Ava was able to visit home often and had May and Jay to lean on as a support system. that connection alone could’ve helped separate the brutality and violence of her work in the Navy from her actual personality—the one that she became admired for and the one Lizzie was drawn to. it could also be speculated that she had the same ideas as Kira and Jay: that she could make the Navy better from the inside (obv this would be more difficult if she was held to high expectations, but she could’ve been on her way to making it work)
speaking of Jay—I think I remember a moment where someone explains how Jayson didn’t want her to join the Navy at all, and I always thought this was odd considering how it was moreso pointed towards her rather than Ava (as well as the fact that the Ferin’s ostracize those who don’t join, like Drey). this would coincide with my theory that Ava was expected to join bc of ‘unlocking’ her powers early, so maybe Jayson didn’t want Jay joining due to the fact that she hadn’t tapped into her Ferin powers yet, but Jay being Jay decided to enlist anyways and eventually gained a different motivation for her involvement than the rest of the clan [thanks to Kira & Ava]. or there was another thing at play. idk kinda just throwing smthn at the wall with this one bc that little comment stood out to me and I can’t remember if it even happened lol
also do we think the whole ‘sun nightmare’ is like,,, a test to unlock those abilities?? we know Jay and Drey opted to jump into it which kinda resulted in some magic golden eye phenomena (which we’ve seen in action once by Drey), but the issue here is when Jay rejected the heat the first time it just resulted in pain. so what would’ve been the option that leads the Ferin bloodline to become so powerful? do they choose to combat the sun?? do they conjure up heat of their own until they overpower it??? so many questions
gaaahhh I can’t wait until they’re out of the Black Sea so we can delve into this more bc I’m tired of feelin like this:
#lots of thoughts about these two#the drama and angst is just *chefs kiss*#my art#digital art#jrwi#jrwi podcast#just roll with it#just roll with it podcast#jrwi riptide#jrwi spoilers#jrwi fanart#jrwi ava#jrwi ava ferin#ava ferin#jrwi lizzie#jrwi lizzie lafayette#jrwi elizabeth lafayette#lizzie lafayette#jrwi waning crescent
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Mai Tai with Frat NicoJack 🥹 promt 23 please xx
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
23. carrying the other in their arms
.
You hadn’t planned to get this drunk.
There was always the risk that you were going to get shit-faced drunk because Trevor was nothing if not an enabler, and he was fucking dangerous when he had a few drinks in him. He could persuade anybody to do anything, he was just charming that way. But the important point was that it was not planned.
However, both Nico and Jack had a pretty good idea where the night was going when you had mentioned that Trevor wanted you to join him at some line dancing club across town that nobody else wanted to join him at.
So, honestly, it was no surprise when they had received a variety of incoherent messages from you throughout the night. Both of the boys had been quite amused, both tucked under the covers as they watched some random hockey game that was playing for a chill night in.
They had not expected a call somewhere past midnight. And they had not expected it to be from Trevor.
“No, she’s—” There was a fit of giggles before the boy continued. “She’s sooooo drunk right now and she wants you two. Like, she’s literally refusing to get off the sidewalk right now.”
And Trevor was right. By the time both boys had made it down to Nico’s car and driven across town, they found the two of you sitting on the side of the road outside the bar. Country music was playing from inside, laughs and cheers and singing could be heard too. But you were lost in your own world, your head resting on Trevor’s shoulder as he rambled away about god-knows-what.
“There’s our girl,” Jack teasingly called out once they got out of the car, making their way over. His smile widened a little when he watched you lift your head up, your face brightening at the sight of your boys.
“Jacky baby,” you grinned widely, blinking slowly. “You came.”
“We both did,” Nico smiled softly as he kneeled down in front of you, pushing some hair out of your face. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“Soooo good,” you giggled. “Trev bought me a bunch of drinks.”
“I am a gentleman,” Trevor replied, puffing his chest out a little and sending you into another fit of giggles.
Nico shook his head but his expression was fond. He turned to look at Trevor, his brows raised. “You coming home too?”
“Pffft, as if!” You snorted before leaning in, attempting—and failing—to whisper to your boyfriend as you said, “he was talking to a cute guy in there. He is soooo going home with him.”
Jack grinned. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhmm,” you nodded before placing your finger on your lips. “Shhh, don’t tell Trevor I told you.”
“You are so drunk,” Trevor laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “You got her?”
“We can handle her,” Nico assured Trevor with a nod, patting his shoulder. “Go enjoy the rest of the night.”
Trevor smirked as he began making his way back into the bar. “Good luck with Mrs P!”
“Hey,I’m fine!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Look! I can even walk by myself!”
However, it took less than a second for you to quickly disprove your own claim. You were wobbling even before you could stand up straight on both feet, but thankfully, both boys managed to reach for you.
“My knights in shining armour,” you laughed as you sunk into their touch. “M’tired. Carry me?”
Jack raised his brows, trying to hold back his laugh as you flashed them both your puppy dog eyes. “Which one?”
“You’re both my boyfriends,” you huffed. “Why can you both not carry me?”
“That doesn’t feel effective, schatz,” Nico murmured with a smile, squeezing your arm a little. “How about a deal, hm? One of us will carry you to the car right now and the other will carry you into the house.”
A smile broke out on your face. “Deal!” You turned to face Jack, batting your eyelashes. “Carry me?”
“Course, babe,” Jack smiled, wasting no time as he hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you in his arms. “Had a fun night, pretty girl?”
“So much fun,” you grinned, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. “Need to go there with you two. Wanna dance with you both.”
“We’ll see how you feel in the morning first,” Nico mused, opening the door to the backseat so you and Jack could climb in.
“I won’t even be hungover, just you wait and see,” you grumbled to your boyfriend, your eyes already starting to flutter shut.
“We’ll see,” Jack snorted, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
.
#cece’s cocktail celebration#nicojack#nico hischier#jack hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier fic#nico hischier one shot#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes fic#jack hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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Dried Things & Humanity
말린 것들과 인류
Word count: 13k+
SMUTLESS FIC
"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai
Dried flowers.
They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.
You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do?
Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.
“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”
Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.
The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)
The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”
You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head.
“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”
Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.
“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.
“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him,
“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”
“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”
You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”
Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”
Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.
By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”
Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once.
The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.
You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch. It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.
“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”
Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”
“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.
Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”
“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.
“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”
After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on.
“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”
He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”
You nodded.
“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”
And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought.
Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover.
“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”
That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers.
“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf.
As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you.
On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.
After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.
One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual.
“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”
You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch.
He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water.
“What do you see?” he asked you.
“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.
“Just answer me.”
You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”
“Good. What else?” he urged.
“There’s nothing else,” you told him.
“Wrong. Look again.”
You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”
“What else?”
You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”
“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.
Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.
“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”
He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly.
“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.”
The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life.
“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”
Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.
In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road.
It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.
***
Dried Persimmon.
That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.
“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”
“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!”
You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope.
“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”
“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered.
“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”
“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”
You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring.
You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift.
Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit.
Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight
“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.
When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag.
“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”. Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store.
When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say.
True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.
“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’
“Why’s that?” you asked.
“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”
You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.
With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box.
“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”
“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked.
You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”
Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment.
“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”
You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”
“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.
***
Dried leaves.
That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.
You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you.
“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?”
You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out.
You recognised the city accent in their voices.
The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open.
Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you.
In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.
“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.
“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”
“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!”
It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled.
“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter.
“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!”
You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.
“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”
You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store.
“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”
The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.
You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly.
“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.
There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.
Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you.
The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”
She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.
“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice.
“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly.
“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed.
“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”
Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.
“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.
Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her.
She grinned.
You felt a burning sensation on your face.
***
Dried Pollack soup.
That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.
“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”
“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.
“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?”
You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?
A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.
“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely.
Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”
“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.
“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”
***
A very, very dry mouth.
That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work.
She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine.
Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.
“What should I do now?” you heard her ask.
“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.
“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply.
You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer.
A tap on your shoulder.
“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”
You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter.
“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”
Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions.
Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch.
“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life.
It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm.
You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.
“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested.
“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”
You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street.
“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.
“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her.
“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”
“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”
“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.
Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.
“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.
“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned.
Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…”
She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again.
“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked.
“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”
Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”
You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.
“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”
The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.
“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”
You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?
The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.
“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”
She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more.
Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her.
Human.
With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”
***
A dry wipe.
That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.
Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.
Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice
Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves.
“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.
“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.
“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.
“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”
Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort.
Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks.
Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him.
“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed.
“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her.
For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.
“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”
The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh.
“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.
“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.
“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.
“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”
“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”
You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.
Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…
As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.
“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”
The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother.
“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.
“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease.
They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day.
“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.
“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.
“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”
Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”
The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump.
“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.
“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”
Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”
You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”
You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.
“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.
“Hm?” she hummed.
You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”
You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”
You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.
“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”
“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.
“I can imagine that,” she whispered.
She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move.
You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability.
You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.
It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature.
“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise.
“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”
You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose.
You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.
***
Dried apple slices.
That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.
“These are so good!” she exclaimed.
“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.
Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.
“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.
“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.
“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her.
“Don’t you have to search for a university?”
You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”
Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day.
You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied.
“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed.
You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”
Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”
You were glad she understood you.
“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”
You waved it off. “No problem.”
Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”
She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.
“It must be tiring,” you said.
“Hm?”
She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind.
“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.
“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”
You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her.
“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”
Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.
She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.
“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”
Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.
The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such.
“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”
She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face.
“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.
“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”
The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy.
“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.
“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.
Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.
In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.
***
Dried anchovies.
That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner. You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease.
The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late.
You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna.
“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?
“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back.
“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.
You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market.
9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.
“What are these?” you asked.
“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”
The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.
You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you.
“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim.
“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked.
“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”
I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on…
When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble.
As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.
***
Drier air.
That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house.
“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”
It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you.
“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear. “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”
You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.
That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.
The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city.
The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out.
“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”
Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle.
When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.
“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”
Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol.
As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.
It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving.
She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be.
To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.
***
Dried flowers
That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other.
You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them.
“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”
She stared up at you for a moment.
When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could.
When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”
You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”
She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.
“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”
You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you.
In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you.
You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”
***
The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents.
You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.
Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left.
The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron.
“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you.
“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back.
It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life.
The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.
“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”
Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace.
“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”
You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all.
You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!
It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying.
“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always.
Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare.
“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”
“I can imagine that,” you replied.
Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”
“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”
“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you.
“Is she healthy?” you pressed.
“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.
Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”
You lowered your gaze to the frozen water.
“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”
The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…
You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.
“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”
Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”
“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university.
“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”
The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.
For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave.
“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”
“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”
The right person…
Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.
Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.
Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you.
Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense.
There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her.
You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.
Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.
“Hey,” was all you could manage.
“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”
Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…
When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…
She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.
Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot.
“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.
“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”
She laughed at that.
When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.
Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night. A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back.
“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.
“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”
“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”
You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”
“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”
“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”
She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”
You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”
“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”
You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two.
Then it was time for the hard question.
“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.
“I’d like to think so…”
Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”
Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”
“Ah,” you mused.
“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”
You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”
“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”
There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street. Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night.
I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.
It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.
She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now.
She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.
But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today.
Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second.
Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.
Hoping faintly…
No. You wouldn’t settle for that.
The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it.
In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms.
A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours.
“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”
She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air.
“I-I have to go,” she muttered.
You were tired of waiting.
“Yuna please,” you begged.
She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.
“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”
“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”
Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”
Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.
Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said.
I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you.
When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away.
“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.
“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”
With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian.
But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.
Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.
_______________________
Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.
~Lots of love,
Nichuuu
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OH YOU DID DO MY ASK JUSTICE, MORE THAN 🥹
If you were to make this a series, I come bearing the following suggestions;
How did they get into a throuple? Reader being a major flirt with both Lando and Oscar. Oscar gets fed up with it, so he fucks her to work his jealousy off, but Lando walks in. Instead of being hurt… Lando starts jerking off. ORRRR
Reader and Oscar are together, and Lando gets pouty about not being included in things anymore. Then Oscar’s like- you know what, fine. (Could also be Landoscar, or Lando x Reader at first)
Fluffy aftercare blurb/segment
A fic in which Lando and reader are all buddy buddy with Carlos bc they’re friends with him and Oscar is Not Happy™️. They are punished accordingly. Lines that come to mind; “I’ll fuck you so good that you can’t even think about anyone else”, “You brats really like to get me riled up”, “We weren’t doing anything wrong!”, “Say you’re mine or else you don’t get to cum for a month”
Lando and Reader planning an extra slutty surprise for Oscar’s birthday
BUT OFC ONLY IF YOU WANT TO DO ANY OF THEM sksksksk I have been fed by the fic it’s really the best thing I’ve read this year so far you are so talented ok. I am obsessed. A literal goddess.
Ok that’s it I’ll stop rambling now
OMG THESE IDEAS ARE INCREDIBLE CAIT WAS NOT LYING😰😰😰😰 thank you for em bby will def be using them YOU are the goddess🙏🩷🩷
the first one...lando getting caught fucking himself into the circle of his fingers after he lets out a particularly loud groan from behind the extremely thin drivers room...then oscar telling him to join🙈🙈🙈 damn i just got chills
i can totally imagine oscar being so nonchalant about suggesting lando join him and readers relationship
"its like you guys dont love me anymore," lando whines when you and oscar cancel on another plan to do some weird shit like bowling together instead.
"Why don't you just join us, then," oscar suggests, scrolling lazily on his phone.
Lando smiles and moves to grab his bowling shoes, "Oh, okay."
"No, as in a couple."
Its nearly comical when both you and lando shriek, surprised but not at all disgusted by the idea, "WHAT?!"
The lines for the jealous!oscar thingy with lando and you😵💫😵💫😵💫 will 100% be doing that thank yewwwww!! reader and lando are so oblivious of oscars jealousy, bless them-- they'd be so confused at how oscar's normal grumpyness morphed into a real grumpyness.
They keep asking him whats wrong but he just waves them off until they get back home and he shoves both of you on the bed, ripping off his shirt while incoherently cursing carlos under his breath.
#mariahcarreyyy . . . landoscar universe#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#oscar piastri x reader x lando norris#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#landoscar#ln4#twinklaren#mctwinks#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fic#f1blr#formula 1 x reader#mariahcarreyyy . . . thoughts
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Eddie and Steve are still both clueless about each other and their sexuality. Robin is just as clueless about them. Steve and Eddie both deal with unresolved sexual tension by arguing a lot. Steve, Eddie, and Robin are hanging out at Steve's place when yet another argument occurs.
Robin: Oh my God! Either make out or get out!
Eddie and Steve stop with wide eyes before looking at each other. They immediately start rambling incoherently, their voices joining together as they scoffed and laughed rather forcefully.
Eddie: I never never thought about -
Steve: Certainly never dreamed -
Robin: *her eyes wide* I was joking.
Eddie and Steve: I'm straight!
Robin: Right. . . *grabs their heads* I'm going to shake your heads, and if you dinguses start seeing rainbows, you're not straight!
Eddie: *shrieks* This doesn't sound like a very accurate test, Buckley!
Steve: We're not Magic 8 balls, Robin!
Robin shook their heads, and Eddie hollers until she lets go.
Eddie: I hat - Oh my God, I see them.
Steve: Fuck. Me too.
Robin: You see them because you want to see them. So, sources say. . .very likely.
Eddie and Steve look at each other with wide eyes.
Steve: We're, uh, going to go talk.
Steve pulled Eddie out of the room, and Robin breathed a sigh of relief.
Robin: Oh, thank God, I have no idea what the fuck I was talking about. I totally panicked. . .well, at least I can watch the movie in peace.
#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#platonic stobin#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#robin accidentally helps#robin's smart but she's also a dingus#incorrect stranger things quotes#a little bit of a crack fic#rueleigh writes#bisexual eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bi4bi#idiot4idiot
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The Reveal
Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: Lucy finally returns in this last installment of the Setback prequels. I hope you guys have enjoyed the journey as much as I have writing it!
Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Setbacks
[WOSO Masterlist]
Waking up to Leah will always be your favorite activity. You come to consciousness to tiny breaths puffed against your cheek, arms wrapped tight around your torso. Your legs are tangled together, the only evidence of what happened last night being the soreness in your body and the lack of clothes on both of you.
You snuggle against Leah, letting yourself bask in her warmth before beginning the daunting task of untangling yourself. The defender’s clingier than most, never letting you leave the bed without a fight. Usually you would fold without much prompting and go cuddle with your favorite person, but today you have plans to make Leah breakfast in bed, and you’d be damned if you let her charm you out of it.
“No! Don’t go,” Leah whines, coming to consciousness just to try to pull you back into bed with her.
“I’ll be right back, promise,” you whisper, secretly delighted that Leah still puts up this much of a fight even after a couple months into dating.
She mumbles something incoherent into her pillow but doesn’t let go of the death grip she has on your arm.
“Leah,” you tsk out, happily giving her a kiss when she drags you down for another one. When she attempts to go from cute to sexy, however, you stop her right in her tracks. “Let me do something nice for you. Please?”
Leah gives you a blank look, hand pausing from where it’s attempting to trail down your body. When you give her your best puppy eyes, she sighs before letting you go. That’s the one trait the two of you share, never being able to say no to what the other wanted.
“Fine. Hurry back, I miss you already.” Leah’s pout almost gets you to break. Almost.
Pressing a quick kiss against her lips, you quickly shrug on a hoodie and some underwear before slinking out into the kitchen.
Thankful for your pre-planning, you already have all the ingredients necessary to make breakfast. You pull them all out quickly, mentally ticking off your checklist. You’re ducking under your cabinet, trying to pull out a plate when you hear the distinct sound of keys in your locks.
You spin around just as your front door swings open. When you catch sight of brown hair in a familiar bun, you’re suddenly glad you threw on a hoodie to cover your state of undress before leaving your room.
“Luce! What are you doing here?” It’s hard to hide the panic in your voice, especially when you’re aware of the body in the next room.
Lucy gives you a weird look, mistaking your panic for confusion. She drops a bag of muffins and some coffee onto your counter. “What, I can’t come visit my sister?”
“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you shrug, hoping to play off your disarray.
Lucy eyes all the food on the counter, taking note of the two plates, two cups, double of everything really. “The amount of food you’re preparing says otherwise.”
You blink owlishly, silently cursing your sister’s perceptive eyes. You could never get anything past Lucy when you were younger. Her BS detector has only seemed to improve as the two of you grew older.
“Did I tell you I was coming over? Damn, I was really hoping to surprise you. Give you an early birthday gift since I’m in town right now and all.”
“What? No. No! I’m surprised, very surprised. You did a great job, totally didn’t see it coming or anything. When did you even get into town? I thought you had a game yesterday.” You’re really hoping your rambling has confused Lucy enough to forget about all the extra food you’re preparing, but in the end, none of your distractions are enough to stop Leah from joining the party.
“Baby, what’s all the nois--” Leah stops abruptly when she takes in the sight in front of her.
Your first step is to grimace. You’ve been thinking about the best way to break the news of your new girlfriend to Lucy for weeks now. Although you haven’t hid your relationship anywhere close to as long as Lucy did, you know that your sister would still be hurt that you hadn’t told her right away.
Lucy stiffens next to you and you’re trying to come up with the proper explanation when you notice what Leah’s dressed in. Or more plainly, how little she’s dressed in. All Leah’s got on is one of your flannels and a pair of boxers.
You bite your lip, not able to push down the sudden surge of attraction that arises when you catch sight of her abs, the low swells of her-- Leah seems to gather her lack of clothes at the same time. She quickly closes shut the flannel, hiding the excess skin she had on display. Leah’s face is a rosy hue, no doubt embarrassed to be caught in this state by your sister.
Speaking of which…
“Why is there a barely dressed Leah Williamson in your flat?” Lucy grits out, turning her glare towards you.
“Surprise. We’re… dating?” The way your voice raises at the end makes your statement sound more like a question.
Lucy raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”
A tense silence settles over the three of you.
Leah fidgets uncomfortably under Lucy’s piercing eyes. “I’m just gonna,” she gestures over her shoulder towards your bedroom, but stops the second your sister’s voice rings out.
“No, stay. Please. I’d like to see how you guys try to explain this away.” Lucy crosses her arms, staring pointedly between the two of you.
“There’s nothing to ‘explain away’,” you frown, not liking what Lucy’s implying. “Leah’s my girlfriend and I’m hers. We’re dating.”
It’s not like it’s a secret. While you and Leah are keeping things on the downlow, most of your club teammates have already figured out that you and Leah are together. The great thing about not playing on the same team as your sister meant not sharing every second of your life with one another. You’re sure Lucy’s happy for the slight reprieve, after basically coddling you to your interests your entire life.
You make your way around the counter, picking up a discarded sweatshirt on the way and handing it to Leah. Your girlfriend murmurs a quiet thanks, hurrying to pull on the piece of clothing. You can feel Lucy’s gaze burning into your back as you block Leah from Lucy’s view.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming,” you whisper, noting the way Leah’s eyes keep darting nervously behind you.
“When did this happen?” Lucy’s voice interrupts the two of you before Leah can respond to you.
Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you turn around to face your sister again. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Her eyes narrow dangerously and you can feel Leah stiffen beside you. You’re used to Lucy being short with you, not that it happens often, but you understand why Leah’s more jumpy than usual. If you weren’t related to Lucy you would probably be quaking in your boots too.
But you are related to her. And you know exactly how to push Lucy’s buttons without the disastrous consequences that usually come when people challenge her.
You square your jaw, trying hard not to snap at Lucy. “You know Leah. You like Leah. There’s no need to give her the third degree.”
Lucy’s mouth pinches in displeasure, but you cut her off again before she can argue with you.
“Leah makes me happy. Like really stupidly happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time, okay? She treats me amazingly and dotes on me to the degree that it should be annoying but instead only makes me love her more. She’s wonderful in every way possible and most importantly, she loves me. So. Take all of that into account before you say whatever you’re going to say.”
Lucy blinks, not expecting such a long, thought out declaration.
Leah also seems to be taken aback, mouth parted in surprise. It’s only when the silence drags on and no one says anything that you realize how raw your declaration was. The heat crawls up your neck and your fingers start nervously drumming on your thigh.
Leah’s hand is quick to lace themselves with yours, stopping your nervous motion. She gives you a light squeeze, and you watch as Lucy’s eyes drop to your intertwined hands.
It almost feels like a lifetime before Lucy says anything. When she does, you’re not sure if it’s supposed to make you feel better or not.
“Okay. Well. You’re an adult so.” Lucy sighs, looking as if she’s about to get up and leave.
From the corner of your eyes you can see a matching frown form on Leah’s face.
“Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you think.”
And it’s true. You’ve always idolized your sister, wanting to do everything you could to impress her. Her perceptions on everything you do is always important to you. And while you’re ready to defend Leah to the moon and back, Lucy’s approval would only make you breathe a little easier.
Lucy silently stares at the two of you, trying to weigh whether or not you’re being honest. The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns her attention to Leah. “You really love (Y/N)?”
Leah nods, hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, I really do.”
Lucy looks like she’s considering it for a moment before she shrugs. “Okay, well that’s all I can really ask for.”
You want to let out the breath you’ve been holding in this entire time, but then Lucy actually does head for the door.
“Wait, where are you going?”
Lucy pauses, already slipping on one of her shoes. “Uh, well it’s clear I’m crashing your guy’s breakfast so I’m just going to--”
“You should stay!” Leah’s outburst takes all of you by surprise. A blush forms on her face as she throws out a mumbled, “Please.”
Lucy looks between the two of you, from Leah’s embarrassed face to your pleading one. You know you have her when Lucy takes one look at your puppy eyes and then mutters something in Portuguese to herself.
“Alright then, if you guys insist.”
Your smile is blinding as Lucy makes her way back to the kitchen. Leah passes you another cup that you quickly fill with coffee before sliding it to your sister. Lucy mumbles a quick thanks before handing out the muffins she brought this morning.
“Maybe we should invite Keira next time,” Lucy hums under her breath as she takes a bite of her muffin. “Make this a proper double date. I’m sure she would love it.”
Lucy stops chewing when she notices the way Leah has stiffened up again. She turns her questioning gaze towards you, but you turn your eyes upwards, suddenly finding your ceiling very interesting.
Lucy chokes.
“Oh my god, you guys haven’t told Keira yet?!”
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Dumbest thought of the day:
Prima ballerina Adam
Douche bag manager Hoffman (mans is secretly a dancer but life happened and now he's a bitter man who dances I secret)
Ballerina bff Amanda
(Only open if you wanna see my incoherent sleep deprived ramblings. I haven't slept in 2 days because insomnia and my anxiety has decided to 🎶 kick it up a notch 🎶 I currently have no filter)
Obsessed audience member that wants Adam...idk probably William or Logan...fuck it it's Ivan
Logan works in props
William (this is emmerson schenk whatever btw) works with the lights
Theater owners John and Jill (they hate hoffman and love Adam)
Buff head stangehand Strahm
Zeke is a principal dancer as well and they whore him out to film and other theater productions (they can spare him but not Adam because Adam puts asses in the seats)
Remember Addy? The middle aged lady that works for William Easton? Yeah she was prima ballerina back in her day but an injury to her out of the game. Now she's the dance teacher/instructor who adores Amanda and Daniel.
Speaking of William Easton he's the number one patron he's at every show and everyone calls him Uncle MoneyBags ™ because he dressed like Mr. Monopoly for Halloween ones fifteen years ago (Adam started it)
Brent Abbott you ask? He's just starting out in the big leagues. Adam has taken him under his wing
Corbett Denlon? Star of her class. Been dancing sine she was 3. She's at every performance she can get her parents to go to. The practice room she uses to rehearse is named after her late brother (who was also a student everyone adored)
And who is this up in the rafters changing the backdrops for scenes? Why it's Bobby Dagen the stage hand who is down bad for children's dance instructor and another principal dancer that gets lent out to other productions Joyce Young (in this universe Amanda and Joyce are cousins just go with it)
Where's our favorite Doctor Lawrence Gordon? (I know our actual favorite doctor is Lynn Denlon but for the sake of this post it's Larry (imagine cary elwes saying Larry from that one scene of men in tights)) well I'll tell you. He is the new front of house manager and he hates Hoffman and he went backstage to confront him but got distracted when he saw Adam dancing. Completely transfixed. He was smitten but has never talked to him in the 3 months he's Been there.
Zep is John's nephew. He's clumsy and spills his mop water on the daily. He's also the janitor/ maintenence man for the theater. He's been electrocuted many times. He's fine. His hair is permanently sticking up tho.
Remember Britt and Addison? Yeah they're the mean girls who constantly undermine everyone they dont like (mainly Amanda. They try to get into Adam's pants) (honestly they could hit me with a car and I'd say thank you)
Perez is Strahms BFF and costume designer
Cecil Adams? Of course he's here. He's the pervy stage hand nobody likes (think Joseph Buquet in Phantom of the Opera meets Ted Spankofski from Starkid's Hatchetfield series)
Art Blanc of course he's the theaters legal aid
Rigg is Amanda's dance partner. They're also like together but not
Kerry is there. She's Gordon's second in command.
Daniel Matthews was forced into dance classes by his mom when he got in trouble in school at 13. He's a natural. He still isn't the best but he takes extra lessons with Addy, Adam, Rigg, Amanda, and Joyce (everyone does one of one with him) and Brett helps him outside of the theater. (They're bffs)
Eric Matthews is head of security who is constantly watching Daniel. He's proud
Dan Erickson is here too. He's the accountant.
Jeff joined Eric's security after his son died so he could spend more time with Corbett
Lynn serves as the unofficial theater nurse. She's patched up many floor burns (trust me it fucking hurts when you fall on a stage/dance studio floor even with something to cover your skin think rug burn but from a wooden floor) and sprain ankles and a few broken toes, one time Daniel was a little over zealous and rammed himself into the mirror and broke his nose. She loves being the only unofficial nurse on the unofficial payroll (they're donations for new pediatrics wing of the hospital. John and Jill are grateful for her services but she won't accept payment so they donate to her new department she runs)
The theater is called "Gideon Theater" of course.
Other characters make up the orchestra but I'm too lazy to look them up rn. Up to your imagination but like Charles from 5 plays bass clarinet. The two from the pound of flesh trap are here too. I don't remember their names but the girl plays clarinet and the guy is percussion (I can see him playing xylophone the hammer bell things and crashing th cymbals) And the last surviving dude from the fatal 5 plays trumpet. I know their names my brain is just fried right now
Oh and Bobby's BFF I think he's named after spinach or some other leafy vegetable I can't remember but he's an investor in the theater too.
(Just because I don't have motivation to write this I'd love for people to write their own interpretation of this and tag me) (bonus points if we cross universes and Specs and Tucker show up) (I don't expect anyone to actually do this)
#this is what happens when i havent slept in 2 days#you get this#saw 2004#saw franchise#adam stanheight#lawrence gordon#leigh whannell#amanda young#john kramer#mark hoffman#saw fanfic#tobin bell#if i had motivation to write this i would
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Akutagawa Thoughts...
I definitely think that Akutagawa is a misunderstood character, unless he's not and I'm just rambling for no reason LOL. Regardless, he's my favorite character so I just wanna talk about him so please hear me out! (obvious spoilers ahead)
I don't think that Akutagawa is as evil as many people may portray him as. I definitely think that Akutagawa has the potential to be a good person but he simply doesn't know how to.
HEAR ME OUT THOUGH! So obviously we know that Akutagawa's childhood was not pleasant: he grew up in the slums, where it was a dog-eat-dog world. If he wasn't constantly guarded and ready to attack at any given moment, he would lose those closest to him. He grew up in an environment where, if he didn't learn to kill others, both he and his sister would not survive. This was all that he knew, up until Dazai took him in and inducted him and Gin into the Port Mafia.
From there, what he already grew up with was enforced tenfold. Though he wasn't living in squalor anymore, he was raised in a world where killing was the only way for him to survive. Not to mention all of the trauma and the inferiority complex Dazai gave him.
While I don't think that Akutagawa should necessarily be excused for hurting Kyouka, but I also think this is an excellent example of how the cycle of abuse works. Abuse and survival are all that he has ever known, and I think that in a sense he was trying to teach Kyouka that this was how life operated in the Port Mafia. Trying to see the light, being a good person, and acting on one's feelings could very easily lead them to an early death. Think of Odasaku. The Port Mafia is not the place or profession for one to be weak or soft, and Akutagawa was probably trying to rid Kyouka of what he perceived as "weakness," unaware of what the actual truth was. (The truth being that there is good and light and that Kyouka should not be shamed for wanting to be a good person).
I think that Akutagawa has the potential to be good and we can see this very clearly through Wan, as well as Beast. Akutagawa has been upholding his 6 month promise to Atsushi not to kill, and although this may be for his own desire to fight Atsushi rather than an innate desire to be a better person, we at least know he is capable of not killing.
In Beast, the entire premise is that Akutagawa joins the ADA (I've only read the first two volumes to bear with me here); But I don't think a person who is inherently bad would care that much about their friends and family (Gin). Also, the fact that he got mad at Tanizaki for treating Naomi roughly during the entrance exam also shows that Akutagawa has human empathy (even if Naomi liked the rough treatment but we don't need to talk about that).
Another thing to mention here is that Akutagawa ONLY knows how to be in fight or flight mode and he GENUINELY only knows how to respond in extremes. When he's supposed to question people, he threatens them. And when he wants something, he can only think of using violence or force to achieve his goal. He is a direct product of his upbringing in the slums. (and in the main storyline, the Port Mafia as well).
And when we get later into the manga (main canon) we can also talk about how in Chapter 88 we can see how much Akutagawa has changed and the amount of influence Atsushi has had on him. Akutagawa sacrificed his life for Atsushi, knowing that he himself didn't have much time left. The CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT he had to undergo to get to this point *sobs incoherently*
ANYWAYS That's it for my little ramble thank you for your time
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Would you mind doing..I’ve forgotten how to ask requests..oh god...umm!!
Prompt!
Touch starved Ellie and extra cuddly Right comfort!
AAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Hi, thank you for this so deliciously sweet and soft request. I do love it when a ship gets all soft and they get some affectionate cuddles. I'm so sorry though for the long wait for this one.
Down below is just a domestic piece so no angst and just soft love between a married couple;
Exhaustion hit Ellie at full force that left her to go limp almost, her body went soft, and eyes growing heavy. So with open arms she soon dove into her husband's awaiting arms, face nuzzling deep into the crook of his neck. Now those arms, so strong and defined in muscles, swooped her into his embrace, "Heh. You're being more cuddly than normal?" He retorts, likely raising a brow in his keen observation.
"A little" Replying in a sleepy grumble, she pulls back in order to look up past lashes, slow fluttering, her grip tightened around his neck, "I like it. You're really warm and soft"
"Heh. No problem with me" His scruffy cheek rubs against her smoothly squishy one, his mustache tickling her. Without any fight in her left, she closes her eyes then rests her head onto his broad chest. The warmth he brought comforted her during her lowest moments, soothing in her soul to a gentle period from that awful anxious high. "Look at you, hun. So beautiful" He plants a kiss on her forehead, practically melting her to putty within a flash, "You're absolutely gorgeous" Then another peck on her lips earned a dreamy sigh to pass by her.
"Gosh… Baby, you're so amazing to me. Even when I feel like shit you make me feel so better…" She rambled, the words spoken near incoherently, until abruptly stopping with a wide mouthed yawn. "... I love you so much. I love everything about you"
His hearty laughter booms throughout, as she feels the rumbling pulsating past her scrunched face, "I love you too. You're like a freshly picked rose with thorns. Pretty to look at, a beauty that can't be rivaled with both inside and out but you're a sharp and deadly to be reckoned with, my dear"
She silently chuckles at the ridiculous cheesiness, barely registering being led to their large queen bed although she didn't complain upon meeting the silky blankets and fluffy pillows. What made it so much better was when he joined in, allowing her to tangle her limbs across his own, again she returned to lay on his chest if he's the best thing in the world. Maybe she's badly starved of physical contact, she's actually whines at every attempt her partner does to squirm away. A small part in her head tells her to feel ashamed to be acting like this though she pushes the ugly off a cliff and squeezes the man. Her partner could care less it seems, he tugged her close to him and gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze.
#Requested Fic#catisteard#Ask Away#Requests Open#Thsc Fic#RoseRight#Ellie Rose#Right Hand Man#Thsc Rhm#Thsc Ellie Rose#Henry Stickmin Collection#The Henry Stickmin Collection#Thsc Au#Soft Life#Touch Starved#Touch Starved Ellie Rose#Affectionate Cuddling#Cuddly Couple#No Angst#Domestic Fluff#Fluff#Romantic
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i want to send a ship for the ask game but i can't really find one to send- so i'd love to hear about just your favorite ship from anything, or one you just have a lot of thoughts on!
YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD IMMA TALK ABOUT OCS
You see. My main fandom is Hetalia and in 2013 I had the idea that for a little art trade fanfic, I needed some practical, one-off Human OCs. Just for this one AU story.
9 years later and nothing about this turned out to be one-off. 99% of my writer's output is for this AU monstrosity of its own, where the Hetalia characters now have been joined by over 200 named characters. It's basically Orig Fic with the occasional recognizeable name, cuz I do love the creative freedom, but I also love Fanfiction as an exercise of literary analysis, translating a character from one set of circumstances to another. If anyone wants to read pages upon pages of incoherent OC ramblings for this AU, the tag for it is #storie nostre.
And I AM most mentally unwell about SicIre, my true love, my one comfort ship to end all comfort ships. I will return to my Irishman and Sicilian until the end of time. But I don't want to talk about them.
Instead I keep thinking about Francetto these days, two OCs by the name of Francesco Belfari and Dolcetto Acerbi respectively. They're fixing each other. They're making each other worse. Both of these aspects are interlocked like a rusty set of gears. Dolcetto, who's himself a rather pragmatical bastard with a zest to right the wrongs done to him, isn't afraid of what lurks underneath Francesco's loud and cheerful persona. When Francesco needs to indulge his worst instincts, Dolcetto won't judge him for it and will even be in on the bullshit. They see eye to eye. But Francesco also appreciates that Dolcetto IS pragmatical. More pragmatical than him. More grounded, because he'll be able to pull him back from the abyss when he stared at it for a tad too long. Because Francesco makes Dolcetto want to be kinder, that in turn makes Francesco want to be kinder.
Because Dolcetto in turn doesn't feel inherently worthless and unloveable, someone everyone else would be better off without, as he grows closer to Franci. He feels kind of seen by the dirtbag that Francesco can be, he feels no judgement from the man who watches the entire world with boundless and morbid curiosity. The part of Francesco that IS cheery, that IS caring, that loves so deeply before it crosses the point of destruction makes him believe that there are good things out in the world and that he is worthy of them and wants to give them back.
Does this make any sense to anyone BUT me? No. But I am running on less than 6 hours of sleep, gotta be up at 7 tomorrow and can't sleep. So this is what we're getting. thank you for listening.
#beareplies#shayneysides#the basic premise of the AU is btw a Human AU and what if everyone is a big fish in the organized crime shark tank of their country#so most of these people are questionable morally at best. I also have non gangster OCs tho#oh yeah also funfact Francesco and Dolcetto are both in my header with Feli in the middle#Franci is the bearded cheery guy and Dolco is cupid looking mfer who's like fuck this shit im out.#Technically a coherent story with them as protagonists exists over on ao3 called Italian Affairs#but my old writing is. well. A 16 year old sure wrote the beginning of it.#I am actually in the process of rewriting the first book (IA is a sequel) right now. 2 Chapters of I think 16 are down :)#you are so kind for asking I am SO sorry you got such a dogshit answer lmao#storie nostre#franci#dolco
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Oh baby dear - Chris Evans x Reader
Title: Oh baby dear
Pairing: Chris Evans x Surrogate!Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: After a trip that gives the chance to Chris to take a long-overdue break from his job, he comes back home with his mind made up to change his life. And even if it weren’t for the trip itself or meeting you, even though he had no idea if he’d ever see you again, he was determined to not wait any longer. Feeling ready to become a father he starts looking for a surrogate mother, only to end up finding you of all people.
“Son of a guy. You meant it.” brown eyes were wide, and for the first couple seconds no other sound could be heard in the room. It almost felt like the words could echo in the room.
“You're really doing this.” the man's voice was filled with just as much shock as was painted all over his face. At least the woman behind him was more calm, sipping on her drink with an ease that would have been troubling, especially in such a case, if it wasn't known that she had long ago heard the news.
“I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place if I wasn't seriously considering it.” the other man in the room couldn't take his eyes off his friend, trying to gauge his reaction the second it came through. It was bound to be the most honest one, no second thoughts, and he only needed his friends' honest thoughts. Not that, and he was sure of it, the other man would intentionally tell him anything but the truth.
“You- wow.” the shocked expression was still there but there was no mistaking the smile that was slowly but surely appearing on his face “Seems like Evans is finally joining the club, who'd have thought? That's what I call one heck of a year, quickly Scarlett note the date down! It's going to go down in the history books, I tell you. Oh you're in for one hell of a ride, buddy! Wait you knew about this, didn't you?” he turned to the woman but shook his head soon enough “Never mind. You're gonna have to look for a godmother but I do get to be the godfather, right? I really need to start making preparations, nine months are not even remotely enough. I gotta-”
“Take a deep breath and calm down, Robert. That's what you gotta do. Otherwise this kid won't get to meet its one-of-a-kind godfather. And we would never want that to happen, would we?” the woman interrupted his rambling, a teasing smile on her own lips as she noticed Chris himself chuckle.
“Oh goodness forbid that could ever happen.” Chris laughed some more, his chest feeling lighter than it had in the past couple days “And besides that, there has not been a surrogate found just yet. Papers got approved only a day ago, it will take more time than that.”
“You say that as if the second every woman finds out you're on that kind of market, won't volunteer to have your baby. Heck, I know most of them would gladly volunteer to do it the old-fashioned way! You'll see, you will be getting news very soon.” Robert brushed his friend off and got up from his seat, making his way to the mini bar to grab a drink for himself “Which means, I really gotta start preparing everything because a) this is Evans' kid and b) I'm the godfather and it'll get only the best!”
Scarlett couldn't help but laugh, while Chris shook his head with a chuckle, before she added “As you can see, he is going to be more trouble than the kid.” she ignored the look that was shot at her from Robert and kept going “But, speaking of it, I never asked: Did you never really consider adoption?”
“For most of the time that's what I had in mind, yes, but-” he sighed, easing back in his seat “I asked about it and my chances were sadly very low, given my job and everything, not to mention how lengthy of a process it all was. Sebastian was actually the one to suggest it and you know I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. Granted, it is just as hard to find a surrogate who is also willing to be the biological mother but I feel like I have more to hope for this way.”
“You have every reason to be hopeful, I'm sure this will work out just fine. Besides-” she offered her friend a warm smile “There is no other man that I can think of that could be a better father than you. This child will be very lucky.”
“...The part of Robert being the godfather excluded?” Chris added with a smirk, eyeing his friend who narrowed his eyes at him, before both Chris and Scarlett burst into laughter.
“Life isn't perfect, what can you do?” she grinned as she took a sip of her drink.
“I'll try to be the better man, as always, and not comment on any spiteful comments against me. You're just jealous I am going to be the world's best godfather. Anyway, that wasn't what I was going to comment on.” he plopped back on his seat and gave the blue-eyed man a sly smile “Sebastian you say but I'm wondering: was it him or that summer trip to Italy that really prompted you to become a dad? Maybe a certain someone you met there? What was her name...”
“Don't-” it was all he had time to get out, his eyes wide and voice very warning; but there was never any stopping the man when he wanted to speak his mind.
“Ah yes.” Robert grinned widely “(Y/n).”
“What- Who?” Scarlett frowned, tilting her head to the side “How come I haven't heard of her before? I thought you told me everything about Italy.”
“She's nobod-”
“Probably the love of his life. Something like his soulmate. One he talks about a lot in his sleep, hence why I should hold more parties and have you guys over. The info I get is golden. Anyway, think of it as the star-crossed lovers but one where he isn't the Lana Del Rey young and beautiful, you know? Heard she's something like a med or psych graduate or something. So come to think of it all, Italy, soulmates and age difference, this is like another version of Call me by your-”
“And that's it for you. Enough words spoken for one day.” Scarlett said, not hesitating a second to place a hand over the man's mouth who admittedly didn't give up even if his words were only an incoherent mumble after that.
Chris' eyes were wide and there was no mistaking the way he wanted to not talk about it, as if there was some unparalleled sadness that came with the mention of your name, a deep ache and at the same time yearning perhaps because he missed you, just like there was no mistaking the tint of pink that was on his cheeks.
“That's-” he cleared his throat, avoiding looking at his friends in the eyes because he knew how easy it would be to tell that even so many months later the feelings were fresh as much as the day he had to leave, the day he left a part of himself on the airport with you – a part he knew real well he wouldn't get back again, certainly not from any other woman he got to meet. That missing part of him, even if the rest held all the beautiful memories dearly to itself and felt truly blessed, he knew was obvious. It was all on his face that he was missing something, even if he'd gotten so much. And he knew she would see it, it all became so obvious when he thought of you.
He shook his head when he realized he had taken longer than needed to reply “It was way too long ago, I can hardly remember it now. Hell, as if barely anything happened to begin with. She was just-” a lump in his throat, too painful “I made a good friend, a really good friend yes, who helped me see my life in a different way. Helped me make my choice and see the things that really matter. Couldn't keep in contact and yes that's a bit sad but- That's all there is to it, nothing more nothing less.”
Scarlett regarded him for a couple seconds, even as he tried to keep himself busy with getting another drink, before she finally spoke “If you say so.” she nodded her head “At least we now know who we owe this to and who to thank for our family growing, don't we?”
“Then-” Robert's smile was softer, yet also sad, as he raised his glass a bit “Let's drink to that, if not your baby just yet. To (Y/n)?”
“To (Y/n).” Scarlett nodded her head “For helping you make the best decision of your life, wherever she may be now.”
Chris hesitated, the unspoken truth of you not only being the one to help him make the decision but also be part of that decision, part of the family he wanted to build, was ready to break free from his lips but he held it back “Wherever she may be.” he said in a low hoarse voice, raising his glass as well “To (Y/n).”
He had not allowed himself to say your name in a long time and thinking back to it, the effect had been evident not only in his chest, in his heartbeat, but also in his lips, how painfully strange it felt when all he had been doing was think about it for months to no end, down to his throat that closed up with emotion. And he had allowed himself to say it not only so that he would make sure his friends would drop the subject but also because it had been a long time, he felt the need to and he knew that he wouldn't get the chance to do so, not anytime soon for sure.
And yet, only seconds ago, the name had left his lips for the second time in barely a couple days.
His brain could barely keep up with the fact, all the information he had to currently process seemed to make things even harder. Saying your name this time certainly had the same effect, his throat closed up and his heart leaped to his throat, but it felt like it was for an entirely different reason. He blinked several times, trying to make sure that what he was seeing was also true, to make sure that it wasn't wishful thinking and that him holding his breath had not reduced the levels of oxygen to a point where he couldn't even see straight. Truth be told, he felt pretty lightheaded.
“(Y/n) (Y/l/n).” he repeated your name for the third time, the third time in only a couple days his mind nearly screamed at him, but it didn't feel the same this time.
“Yes, I would say she seems like one of the most, if not the most, suitable candidate for you case.” the woman behind the desk gave him a warm smile but his brain was still currently stuck on the word 'candidate'.
“I'm sorry. There seems to be some misunderstanding here and I- I don't know whose part it is on, but-” he licked his lips, trying to swallow over the lump in his throat “When you say- What you're trying to say- I'm sorry.” he shook his head and let a couple seconds to pass in silence; he knew she wouldn't ask before him.
Taking a deep breath he decided to speak, even if his voice was hoarse he hoped she could make out the words “Candidate for what?”
The woman frowned a bit but it was gone faster than it could register, as she spoke in a calm voice “Your case. To be not only the surrogate you are looking for. See, her current, and according to her permanent from now on, residence is in New York City and very close to the residence you have listed as your permanent one. It is important, you understand, if we take into consideration that she will be the biological mother of the child. You might want the child to be able to stay in touch with her, and vice versa, so the close proximity does help. Of course that is always up to you, but in most cases we've seen it hap-”
“When did she sign up for this?” he asked, barely able to keep himself to wait for her to finish her sentence.
“Pardon?” she blinked and only then he realized how he might have sounded.
“You're right. I apologize, that came out as wrong.” he cleared his throat again “What I mean is... does she know who I am? That she- she's signing up to be a surrogate for my child.”
“Every surrogate must be informed, of course, of you as you are informed of her. She too must know whose child she will carry, don't you think it's fitting? But if you are uhm-” she hesitated “Concerned about other children, then, you need not worry. It's not my place to say this but it seems like-” she smiled a bit, almost knowingly “That you have already chosen, so I believe it wouldn't really be against any rule to say this. Consider it an extra bit of information.”
'Seems like you have already chosen.' would be a vast understatement. It was like every cell in his body was screaming 'Yes', chanting it over and over again that he was seriously worried he might have projected it somehow. He could barely control the words that came out of his lips anyway. If anything, the second he had come across the file with your name he had been glued to it, his eyes and all of his attention orbiting around the single file as if he was Earth and you were his Sun. Not far from the truth either.
But it also must have shown- No scratch that. He was sure it had shown because he had done no effort to hide it, too stunned and happy and eager and giddy and blessed and so many other things, to try to hide it. And she had clearly noticed.
“So, no, she has not mothered another child. As a matter of fact, Miss (Y/l/n) is doing this for the first time.” the woman leaned back in her chair “She came to us with the belief that there was too much sadness out there and, amongst other things, she decided to do this little one thing to help someone out. To make someone happy. I believe she didn't really have any further expectations out of this, no further plans, other than wanting to do some good. We only informed her of your case and she said she'd like to help, nothing else.” she shrugged softly “For any further reasons behind her choice you could ask her, I suppose. If you do think she could be the right choice to be the mother of your child, then-”
“She is.” he said, maybe a little too fast, but he didn't care. He didn't find a single part of him that cared for how eager he looked at the prospect of you being the mother of his child. Granted, it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it but it was so much more than he ever thought he'd get, of what he thought he deserved, when he had told you goodbye that summer.
He cleared his throat again, trying to straighten his back and look as formal as he should in the suit he was wearing. He offered her a small smile “She is the right one. I think I've decided. I-” he paused, glancing at the pile of files and therefore other candidates which he had absolutely not even taken a glimpse at and he hoped she wouldn't comment on it “I've thought things through, yes.” because no man could make such a decision so hastily, he knew, and yet he looked like he just had “I'm glad for all the candidates it means a lot but uhm Miss (Y/l/n) seems to be indeed the right one. I think she will do just fine yes.”
“Wonderful.” she smiled more, nodding her head “If it means anything, she seemed happy when she was presented with your case.” oh if only she knew just how much it really meant to him, ask his wildly-beating heart and everyone would know just how much “Now, you understand that while you seem pretty sure and confident with your choice, you will have to give it some more time, more than anything to get in touch with the surrogate herself and discuss through any specific terms you might have. We will be the ones to set a meeting. Of course there are legal issues that need to be taken care of, but you're a lawyer yourself so you probably know that better than anybody else already.”
“Y-yes uh of course, yes, legal terms. Mr Wilson will represent me on the matter of course. But you said-” he folded his hands over his lap and threaded his fingers and it was either that or let his nerves show “Meeting her? Will I get to meet her in person soon or...?”
“That, Mr Evans, is completely up to you, how ready and sure you are, how much time you need and how fast you want things to progress.” she said as if she'd had this conversation many times over and she probably had “It could be within a week, a month, or, if you have no doubts, within three days the soonest possible. So, do you need time to think over-”
“The soonest possible. I'd like-” he nodded his head, straightening his suit's jacket “I think it would be best if I could meet with her the soonest possible. She's just what I was looking for.”
#marvel#mcu#the avengers#chris#chris evans#chris x reader#chris evans x reader#chris imagine#chris evans imagine#chris fanfiction#chris evans fanfiction#chris one shot#chris evans one shot#captain america#captain america x reader#captain america imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers one shot#rdj#robert downey jr#scarlett johansson
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I LOVE your Inarizaki headcanons since you include all of them! ♥️ can I get headcanons of their s/o grabbing their face and kissing them to shut them up because they’re stressed or upset? gahhh (≧∀≦)
KISSING THEM TO SHUT THEM UP.
pairings: akagi, aran, atsumu, ginjima, kita, omimi, osamu, riseki, suna x reader
a/n: off topic, but this is my first birthday since i’ve joined the writing community? i view all my requests / asks as little gifts, so writing this made me extra happy today 💕 thank you for sending me a request! i didddd write a little extra for you 😃 so they’re not really headcanons? idk
SUNA was pouting, slowly sinking into the couch as he replayed today’s game in his head. he wished he didn’t slack off at the end, because maybe his team would have won if he tried his best the entire time. but how was he supposed to know that?
“i’m tired, y/n,” he mumbles, leaning further into the couch as you worriedly look at him. “rin, you did well! i’m always proud of you.” even with your words, he looks uninterested, closing his eyes to relax a little more. he felt a weight plop down on his lap, but he kept them shut, silently hoping that you’d just let him be— until he felt a gentle pair of lips on his. unfortunately, you pull back as soon as he opens his eyes, sheepishly apologizing if you ‘scared’ him, and that you “got carried away because he looked so cute!” already tired of hearing you ramble, he pulls you back into his chest, lazily mumbling a “if i did so well, then you should give me more.”
ATSUMU rambles a lot. whether it’s about an annoying opponent he faced in volleyball, a rant about how mean osamu is, he doesn’t seem to take a breath when he goes. today, specifically, he was going on and on about how stressed he was for his upcoming game — spewing out lines of his insecurities as a setter.
“‘tsumu. tsuuumu,” you finally say, standing up to face atsumu. his expression doesn’t change, or he doesn’t hear you, because he continues as if you never said anything. you let out a sigh, before stepping forward to press a kiss against his lips, resulting in a muffled noise of surprise from atsumu, who took a few seconds to finally return the action and wrap his arms around your middle. he pulls away too soon, just to blurt out “how rude, y/n!”
RISEKI is an overthinker. when he thinks of one thing that could potentially wrong, it spirals into an infinite list of things that can go wrong. today was one of those days. he dug himself a hole, now feeling anxious about attending practice. he was still talking, so you reach up and cup his face— making him pause as a blush immediately begins to appear on his cheeks.
“riseki, you’re cute!” you chime, going on your toes to press a kiss against his lips. you weren’t sure if this actually helped, because he started stuttering out incoherent sentences instead, face brightening into a shade of red as he covers his face with the back of his hand.
KITA can stay focused for hours, only stopping for food or bathroom breaks. you’re left feeling touch-starved, so you crawl towards his seated position on the bed as he types away, ignoring your movements as he tries to finish up a paper. you scooted a little closer and closed your eyes to quickly press a kiss to his cheek, but you felt a pair of lips instead. opening your eyes in confusion, kita simultaneously pulls you into his lap, looking at your face with a gentle smile as he tucked a few stands of hair behind your ear.
“i’ll take a break for you, y/n.”
ARAN gets overwhelmed easily. the stress from wanting to spike atsumu’s sets well, the fights between the twins, his schoolwork, and everything else became too much. he was listing off all of his worries without a thought, sentence coming to an abrupt stop as you press your lips into his hand, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes. “relax, aran?”
aran didn’t realize that he needed out a shaky exhale, but he nervously nods, beginning to apologize for going on a rant. he isn’t even sure where to thank you when you start massaging his shoulders, telling him just how amazing you think he is.
when AKAGI talks, he changes topics quickly without realizing. it started with how practice went today, and now— he’s on the verge of tears as he spills out his insecurities as a libero.
he never took a breath to collect his thoughts, so you do it for him— pulling him into a tight embrace and pressing a kiss to his collarbone area. the gentle kiss seems to pull him out of his thoughts, and he apologizes profusely while returning your hug and quickly pressing his own kiss into the top of your head.
GIN was passionate about volleyball. when he speaks about a play he saw and how badly he wants to do it, the conversation sometimes veers into an entirely different one— now about how he’s hit a wall and can’t seem to improve anymore.
unable to listen to his insecurities for any longer, you roughly pull him downwards by the front of his shirt, capturing him a heated kiss. he takes a few seconds to return it— but kisses you back with even more passion. he was pretty sure that he wanted to release his pent up feelings like this from now on.
OMIMI had been alarmingly quiet today. the two of you would often spend time together after practice, cuddling and watching a show while talking about your day. but he hasn’t said a word, and was staring off into space. so, you tap his shoulder, quickly pressing a kiss into his forehead as soon as he turns around. his eyes widen a little in surprise, before snaking his arms around your waist to gently place you in his lap.
“sorry y/n, i was feeling distracted. do you want a proper one?”
OSAMU looked really mad. maybe atsumu stole another one of his jackets, but he was fuming. you weren’t sure why he decided to come over in the first place, but you wanted to cheer osamu up a little. hesitantly, you slowly pick up one of his hands, earning his attention in return. you press a kiss into his knuckle and look at him with pleading eyes, hoping for a hug or anything at all. “‘samu, you o-okay?”
his eyebrows furrow slightly at your nervous stutters, and he moves his arm to pull you closer, cupping your face to make you look back up at him. “yeah, just stay.”
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#akagi x reader#aran x reader#atsumu x reader#ginjima x reader#kita x reader#riseki heisuke#suna x reader#osamu x reader#atsumu fluff#akagi michinari#aran fluff#ginjima hitoshi#kita fluff#ren omimi#suna fluff#suna rintarō#suna hcs#suna headcanons#atsumu hcs#atsumu headcanons#zev.✏️#osamu fluff#osamu hcs#osamu headcanons#inarizaki fluff#inarizaki x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu!!
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The gay Gil and Flint Fic
words: 1,116
Notes: They/Them Flint. I refuse to use he for series!Flint shsjjs aLSO I didn’t proof read this so if it’s incoherent,,,my bad shsjsn
Gil didn’t think he would find comfort in anyone but his father, but thanks to his pursuit of Sam, he inadvertently got closer to her best friend, Flint Lockwood. The inventor’s presence was quick to become a welcome one in place of his father’s constant neglect. Gil found himself following Flint around even when Sam wasn’t around. Soon enough they were hanging out out of their own volition.
Flint was happy to have another person to tell their scientific rambles to, and Gil was just happy that he had found someone that actually appreciates his presence.
It was now that Flint was walking out of the school with Sam, half-listening to her speech about how meteorologists are under appreciated in the scientific community. They nodded along, but their thoughts faded to their friend. Sure enough they heard someone call their name from behind. “Flint!” They both turned and saw Gil running to approach them.
A smile grew on Flint’s face while a frown grew on Sam’s. “Gil!” Flint waved and waited for the mayor’s son to catch up. Gil panted when he finally caught up.
“Hold on. I have to stay and help Mayor Dad with his new plans for the school. But I wanted to give you this, Flint.” He held out his hands and Flint gasped. They took the item from Gil with a squeal.
“A Chester V figurine? But they stopped selling these last year! Oh Gil, how’d you even find this?” Flint bounced in place, holding the figure of his greatest inspiration tightly.
“Oh you know, mayor’s son’s allowance.” Gil blushed slightly. He scratched his neck and rocked on his heels bashfully. “Anything for you, Flint.” Flint smiled brightly and leaned down to hug their shorter friend.
“You’re the best, Gil. See you when you’re done?”
“For sure.” Gil gave them one last smile. He then glanced at Sam. “Oh, Hello Sam. Nice to see you.” He then turned and ran back into the school, eager to help his father.
“Wow. He sure moved on from me, huh.” Sam glanced knowingly at Flint, who was still amused by the Chester V merchandise in their hands. She coughed to get their attention.
“Huh?” Flint’s trance was broken. “Oh yeah, it’s super cool.” They clearly didn’t hear what Sam had said before. Sam huffed with a lighthearted eye roll and continued to walk. Her friend joined her after they put the merch in their backpack carefully.
“He ask you out yet?” Sam smirked as she spoke. Flint’s face instantly flushed pink.
“Wh-a-t…?” Their voice cracked. “I-Uh-I don’t know what you mean, Sam.” They gripped their backpack straps and avoided eye contact with Sam.
“C’mon, Flint. Everyone on Swallow Falls knows you two like each other.” Sam’s voice was in a lovey-dovey tone in order to embarrass Flint further. It worked. They were unable to speak.
“I…uh…” they gulped. “No. He hasn’t.” They resigned, knowing that there was no way they were going to be able to lie about their feelings about Gil to Sam. Sam giggled, only embarrassing Flint further (if that was possible).
“Well that Chester figure seems pretty indicative of a proposal coming soon.” Sam half joked. Flint secretly hoped that she was right. That the gift was indicative of the other’s feelings.
Flint took a deep breath. “Maybe.” They forced a nervous smile. Sam patted her friend’s shoulder with a smile.
“Don’t over think it.” Sam smiled.
“I won’t.”
They lied.
Flint had paced around their lab the moment they got home. “Do you think he likes me, Steve?” Their lab partner was sat in his assistant’s chair.
“Bored!” Steve flopped down on the cushion, growing tired of watching his owner circle around him.
“You think he’s bored of me?” Flint looked at the monkey, heartbroken. “That can’t be true.” They went to their backpack and opened it up, drawing the limited edition Chester V figurine out once more. “I hope your wrong, Steve.” They placed it on their desk. “No offense.” Flint smiled nervously. Steve looked back up at him with zero recognition of his feelings.
Suddenly the curtain to Flint’s lab opened. “Flint~!” Gil poked his head in, which made Flint jump. “I’m finally free! Oh you should have seen what me and Mayor Dad did to improve the school! I can’t wait to show you tomorrow!” Gil beamed up at the inventor. Flint tried their best to reciprocate the happy mood.
“That’s great, Gil.” They forced a smile. Gil’s head tilted. Immediately he started thinking that he had done something wrong. That he had done something to have Flint’s fondness of him squashed. His eyes started to get glossy.
“I’m sorry Flint. I’ll go. I’m so sorry. I never meant to do anything wrong- I’ll just go-“ Gil was already heading towards the door.
“What?” Flint perked up. They ran around Gil and blocked the entrance. “Y-You can’t go! You just got here.”
“But- But you sounded so upset. I never meant to upset you. I should really just go-“
Flint leaned down so they could be eye level with their friend. They placed their hands on his shoulders as well. “I’m not upset, Gil.” Flint looked down once Gil looked up at him. “I just…can’t stop thinking about…something.” They stood up straight again and started walking towards their desk. They placed their hand by the figure they had placed there moments ago. Gil followed them, not quite sure how to respond.
“About what, Flint?” Gil finally managed. Flint took a deep breath. They weren’t sure if they wanted to risk ruining one of the two friendships they had ever had. They turned to face their friend again, still not making eye contact.
“I…I think I like you. Like…more than just like you. And Sam thinks you feel the same way but I’m just not so sure. Like, who could like me? Especially like that? I don’t even know if I would make a good boyfriend-“ Gil’s eyes widened and a faint blush grew on his cheeks as Flint continued to ramble.
“I think you’d make an okay boyfriend.” Gil slipped out. Flint stopped in their tracks and looked at Gil shyly.
“W-What?”
“Do you think…I’d be a good one?” Gil looked up at them with hopeful eyes. Flint simply nodded, worried that if they tried to speak their voice would crack.
Gil held his hand up for Flint to take. Flint hesitated, but grabbed the other’s hand gently. Gil smiled at their hands brightly before looking up at Flint, who was also smiling.
“Gil, c’mon, don’t cry.” Flint’s smile fell. Gil sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve.
“Sorry, sorry.” He giggled. Flint chuckled with him.
#coltonwrites#cwacom#gAY PEOPLE???#GAY PEOPLE ?? GAY PEEPOLE???#sorry if this is bad I wrote it in a haze kinda shjsjs#I should be working on the series but shhhhh
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