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midgardianweasley · 3 years

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Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

#Natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff lfuff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanova #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov

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eclipsedpascal · 3 years

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You Deserve This

Andy Dolan x Female Reader

GIF by @kissxmedeadly !!

“The reader asking Andy about his kiddo (let's pretend is a lil boy 🤣) and him being very emotional about it and the reader who truly loves him conforts him 😭❤️” - anon

Please read the warnings!!

Warnings: use of drugs (weed), smut, oral (female receiving), slight public sex, slight angst, mentions of rehab, mentions of suicidal thoughts, a lil bit of crying and VERY slight Eden spoilers, but thats only if you don't want to know anything AT ALL, so basically none? idk lmao:)

Notes: hi! So this is my first Andy fic, I wrote it very quickly last night after a sudden burst of inspiration and it doesn't make too much sense, also it’s kinda cheesy? I don't think I've ever written anything this angsty or soft before, but i’m trying to be more in touch w my emotions nd this is my way of doing that, so hopefully i'll do more things like this soon:) also if you’re interested, the title is one of my favourite songs by Men I Trust that I just thought fit Andy well.

Word count: 1.8k

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The warm, dancing breeze washed over your skin, plucking up your many goosebumps and blowing the rainbow coloured sea of petals that decorated the large garden from left to right. The bittersweet mix of their fragrances and Andy’s blunt rushed to you and filled your scrunched up, wrinkled nose as you let out a loud laugh. The vibrant expanse of fluffy grass felt close to a mattress underneath you, cradling your form whilst you laid amongst the greenery and watched Andy ghost a deep inhale of the blunt he had balanced precariously between two fingers. He flopped his arm across the gap between you and offered you another toke, the dopey smile spread over his features making you laugh even more.

“What’s so funny? Hmm?” He questioned you jokingly, rolling onto his forearms and bringing his face to hover just above yours as you brought the blunt to your lips. You couldn't hold in your laughter, your drug hazed state and the breeze that pushed his brown curls to tickle your blushing skin only exaggerating your amusement further as you choked out clouds of smoke.

“What??” He joined in laughing, finding humour in his own confusion and finding your laugh infectious. His lips found your own in a sudden yet gentle kiss which you gladly embraced, still not managing to fully compose yourself as you giggled into his open mouth.

You did your best to pull back from the kiss, but were reminded you didn't really have anywhere to go when you felt a blade of grass flutter against your ear. “It’s just.. your smile.” You rested your blunt carrying hand on his cheek as you spoke, feeling your heart swell when he pulled an overdramatic expression of insult at your reply.

“What’s so wrong with my smile?!” He half faked offence, not understanding what you could possibly find so amusing about it as you giggled more and more. “What’s wrong with it?- is it my lips? ‘They not good enough for you baby?” His thick accent aided his voice, making him sound even more attractive than he already was as he joked with you.

“Noo! it definitely wasn’t your lips, cause I love those.” You gripped his locks a little firmer, biting your lip as his stare changed from one of curiosity to one of want.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned back down and kissed you again, but this time rougher, the weed made you feel as if his lips were slowly melting into your own as it sent strong signals of lust through your body. He put all his weight on one arm, lifting the other and groping your waist with it whilst simultaneously moving to trail wet kisses down your neck.

His touches were deep, yet executed so delicately it convinced you if he was any rougher, you might just break. He opened the buttons of the flowing shirt you wore; one you had stolen out of his wardrobe that morning. He moved his head further down your chest to your stomach, mouth racing in slow motion to reach you were he wanted to most.

Forgetting to explain why you found his smile so funny in the first place, your high carried your thoughts closer towards how incredible his mouth felt on your skin, making you lean into his touch and let out a few small mewls.

As he reached your panty line, he tapped your hip, signalling for you to lift them so he could take your shorts off. He slid them off your legs in a quick, smooth motion that had them landing on a nearby lavender bush. The garden had quite a large variety of blossoming shrubbery and many clusters of beautiful flowers, it was probably down to the bi-weekly gardeners Andy had hired. You had known they were expensive and after spending so much time like this, lazing around, surrounded by the expensive home’s nature, you were beginning to understand why he had hired them.

You returned your gaze from the dangling shorts, back to the man nestled between your bare thighs. His beard was scratching at your skin in the best way possible as he laid small kisses over the thin fabric that covered your cunt. His hot breathe felt like fire as you wriggled and squirmed below him, just wanting some kind of contact from him.

He used two fingers to peel your panties to the side, groaning at the site of your glistening folds before kissing your clit gently. His tongue started swiping across your cunt slowly, taking all the time in the world to make you feel as good as he knew he could. You moaned loudly, grabbing at his hair once more as he sucked on you deeply.

“Mr Dolan?” You were interrupted by a throat clearing before hearing a man speak; one of Andy’s many servants you guessed. They had never seemed to leave the two of you alone whilst you had been staying there. No matter how big his home was, you always seemed to find another at every corner.

Andy looked up to the man with question and annoyance, raising an eyebrow at him as he wished for him to just hurry up and leave so the two of you could continue with your escapades. “It’s the phone for you Mr Dolan. Your son.”

Andy quickly rose from his place below you, his mind abandoning all thought of the act he was just partaking in as he jogged past the glass doors of his home, wanting only to speak to the young boy.

You sat up slightly, doing up a few buttons of your shirt and laying your crossed legs to the side of you as you held yourself up with your arm. You watched him as he scrambled into the house after his servant, little red marks from where he had been lying in the grass next to you were noticeably imprinted on the skin of his left arm, the one he had been leaning on, and his open shirt was flowing behind him with the speed he was moving.

You looked down to the flowers on front of you, picking a single daisy that bore tinted, pink tips on the end of each slim, white petal, twirling the stem around between two of your fingers as you listened to the breeze pick up. You could feel the mood of the air change as he left, the wind feeling more cold an irritating than once before as you pondered the call Andy was having.

You knew how desperate he had been to speak to his son again. It had been months since he had spoken to him without his ex-wife being the messenger. He missed him more than he knew to describe.

His recent divorce had been what had fuelled him to return home to Eden; hoping to find solace in the paradise he knew so well after feeling as if he had lost himself entirely. Spending too many years constantly playing other people had taken more of a toll on him than he had realised, that was until he was sent to rehab. After getting out, he felt as if staying in Eden was the only way for him to climb out of the dark hole he had managed to find himself in. Unfortunately, this journey of finding himself had meant making the decision to leave his son behind in Los Angles. Something he didn't like to speak on much.

When you had first met him in rehab however, he had been extremely open about his life, telling you how anger was the only emotion he could really feel anymore. Explaining that if he wasn’t at least the slightest amount intoxicated, he didn't think he couldn't go on with living; especially after the recent downfall of his career being showcased for the entire world to see. It was dark stuff, but you understood each other. That’s a big part of what made you grow so close.

You picked off petal after petal from the daisy, watching its beauty fade with each pluck and letting each one slowly blow into the breeze, creating a tragic stream as they blew away from you and down to the not so far off shoreline. As you plucked the last petal, you admired the daisy, still glowing with pollen and beaming in the sunlight despite have lost so many important parts of it. You stuck it into your shirt pocket and fell back down to lay on the grass as you waited for Andy to finish his call.

It had been maybe ten minutes you were lying with your eyes closed, enjoying the heat that beamed down from the clear, Australian sky when you finally heard the slow footsteps that you knew to be Andy’s, pattering along the grass. You shot up from where you lay to see the dopey-smiled man who had left you in the garden just fifteen minutes before, only to be faced with a red-eyed, teary one.

“Andy what happened? Are you okay?” He fell down onto the grass besides you, staring at you but completely wordless. You felt as if you could see into his soul. He was feeling so many emotions he hadn’t even been able to grasp at in so long. It was overwhelming him and you knew it. You reached out to stroke is cheek, concern running through you for the man that you had grown to love so dearly over the past few months.

He looked up “She’s gonna let me see him. T-They’re coming over next month.” A tear fell from his face as he smiled harder than you had ever seen him smile before. He was finally going to see his son after all these long months and you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

“Really?! That’s amazing, oh my god!” You moved forwards, wrapping your arms over his large shoulders and squeezing him in a hug so full of love it was palpable. “You really got to speak to him this time?” You questioned him once more before pulling away from his grasp, thinking back to the many times his ex-wife had promised he could speak with the boy but decided at the last minute he wouldn’t get to.

“Yeah!.. he uhh,” He took in a shaky breath, chuckling with joy as he recalled hearing the young boy’s voice so filled with excitement and energy over the phone. “He said he couldn't wait to meet you! You know, when I told him about you.” He stumbled over his words, running a hand through his hair as he shook with nerves, doing his best to calm himself.

In that moment, you felt your love for him soar higher than it ever had before. You were so proud of the progress he had made, and you knew his son would be too. “And I cant wait to meet him either.” You rested your forehead against his, the two of you enjoying a stand still and bathing in the happiness you both felt in the beautiful moment. The sound of the ever present breeze occupied your ears as the laughter emitting from two of you joined it, echoing a song throughout the garden that wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon.

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Thank you sm for reading!!🥺💗

Tags: @celestialrequiem @ntxoza @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @blakescoven @ritualmichael @ghostangels @fernfiction @ferndolan @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @kitty4860 @lavenderahs @michaellangdonstanaccount @9layerdevilfoodcake @chicaluna2410 @plymptxn-reborn I've just tagged anyone who I thought might be interested as per usual, but if you would to be removed feel free to let me know!! you can also lemme know if you would like to be added to the tag list too:)

#Andy Dolan #Andy Dolan x female reader #Andy Dolan x reader #dad!Andy Dolan #dad!Andy Dolan x female reader #dad!Andy Dolan x reader #Andy Dolan fic #Andy Dolan smut #Andy Dolan imagine #cody fern #Cody Fern fic #eden fic #my writing

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nattikay · 3 years

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So with Rise of the Titans coming in less than a week now, I just wanted to make a clarifying post of sorts on my current mental state with it, since ToA is my primary active fandom at the moment and I have a decent number of followers who came for it. A sort of heads-up on what to expect from this blog when the film releases.

I have made it no secret that I was extremely crestfallen by the decision to reverse Jim’s transformation at the end of Wizards, for a multitude of reasons that I have discussed before. However, I have also always tried to allow for the caveat that I don’t know what will happen in the movie, that such a change might have been necessary for the events of said movie, and that seeing the movie might change my mind.

However, while it is possible that the movie might change my mind....it’s highly unlikely.

As I have mentioned before, one of the things that draws me to troll!Jim specifically as a character is the fact that I find his hybrid nature extremely intriguing. It is this intrigue more than any other aspect of the show that drew me into the fandom.

That said, there are really only two scenarios the movie could potentially pull that would make me change my mind about reversing the transformation:

Bring Jim’s halftroll form back in some way, shape, or form.

Present a different scenario that I find even more intriguing.

Note that neither of these are speaking to the objective quality of the movie. I have no doubt that, whatever happens, it will be very well-done in terms of animation, emotion, storytelling, etc. And I do not say any of this to diss on the creative team who put it all together, as I have nothing but respect for their passion and skills.

But as for my personal experience and interaction with the series up to this point...well....I’m sorry, but it’s been clouded.

My anticipation for Wizards last summer was higher than that for any other show that I can remember looking forward to, ever. So much so that it took a physical toll on me because of how high my anxiety spiked leading up to, during, and a while after its release. And I got burned. After all that excitement, all that anticipation, all that hype, the one possible thing that I was most dreading and hoped wouldn’t happen...happened. And Boy Did It Hurted.

After that ordeal, I’m in a...kinda weird place, emotionally, for RotT. There’s still residual anxiety left over from the emotional fiasco of Wizards, and with my favorite character now (sorta) gone...there’s not really much excitement tbh...only apprehension. I haven’t even been able to bring myself to really watch any of the trailers.

I will definitely still watch the movie, but at this the current moment it feels a little more out of a mix of obligation and “let’s-get-this-over-with” just to see the canon ending. Which is a shame and believe me I wish I could get as excited as everyone else...but it is what it is.

As for my fanworks and how the movie will affect them...well, obviously I can’t say 100% for sure without having actually seen the movie. Currently my post-canon works take place in a universe where everything that’s happened in canon so far did occur, but sometime after the events of Wizards Jim chooses to go back to halftroll form, with Douxie making the potion for him and even slightly adjusting it so that he can still walk in daylight. Here’s the current possibilities as far as I can imagine:

I completely ignore the events of the movie and just continue with ^ that headcanon.

I accept all the events of the movie but still have Jim transform back afterwards. So basically the current version but with a little more in-between.

One of two scenarios mentioned earlier happens, and I will adjust accordingly. Unfortunately I think this is the least likely possibility as I am not very optimistic about either scenario occurring (but would be more than happy to eat my words)

I accept all the events of the movie but only as an AU where Jim is still half-troll, be it that he never changed back in Wizards OR that he used Douxie’s potion as mentioned above.

I basically keep the current headcanon but pick and choose specific ideas or events from the movie to incorporate into it.

so...yeah, I guess. That’s where I am with RotT right now, and perhaps you now have somewhat of a better idea what to expect from this blog in the coming days/weeks.

mostly I just want to retreat into the headcanons that make me happy in peace. If that makes me a bad fan or something, then...whatever I guess. imma just continue liking what i like because dangit that’s what i’m here for.

*another obligatory disclaimer that again this just applies to my personal subjective experience with the show and is not meant as any sort of objective critique or dismissal of its quality*

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #rise of the titans #man i hate anxiety

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tetsustation · 3 years

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[that’s where your wrong]

:: kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader

:: comfort + 1.0k

life is a fickle thing. a lot of it is meticulous, tolling. some days feel like weeks, others pass like a chopped collection minutes—either way, it sucks. frankly, you never cracked down on what you were here for, or what you should be doing.

the feat is heavy to hold in your hands, brought you to your knees in an attempt to shoulder the weight. often times, it’s easier to brush away the traces of existentially in favor of taking things one step at a time.

however, that’s easier said than done. especially when the steps are increasing tenfold by the day. still, when your boyfriend texts you out of the blue on a rather warm afternoon, asking if you wanted to get out for a bit, your fingers couldn’t type out a ‘yes’ fast enough. the world could wait for a while.

“what are you thinkin’ about?”

from beside you, kuroo flicks his glance sideways for no more than a few seconds, shifting the gear as the light turns green. you adjust to the pressure of halted inertia before processing what he said. a lot, is what you wanted to respond with, but that response didn’t sit right on your tongue.

“its kinda hot, no?” is what you settled on.

kuroo snickers, its airy in his nose—you note that his allergies have cleared up. the fact that he can breathe smoothly without the oppression of pollen brings you close to a smile. the blinker clicks and he turns down another road, carrying your drive with no destination.

“you can crack a window,” he notes, “child locks are off.”

now it was your turn to laugh a bit, a full fledged grin finding its way onto your face. “lucky me,” you mutter as you roll down the window.

throwing an arm up on distressed leather, you let your hand stick out and bounce along with the wind that rushes by. the weight of your palm seems to carry itself as you pass street signs, pedestrians, and stores you’ve familiarized yourself with over the course of just a few years.

“cherry blossoms are out.” is all you can bring yourself to say, as the two of you pass a rather large tree—pink hues dancing around the branches like trained ballerinas. it almost makes you wish you stuck with ballet all those years ago, with any luck you’d be able to look just as pretty one day.

due to his height, kuroo has to duck a bit from his seat to look above him, through the windshield. his mouth is slightly agape as he glances at the sight you’re awing at—all the while, trying to keep the car steady.

“that they are.” he grins, before focusing back on the road.

it’s silent again, of course the radio is traversing up and down the three rows, but other than that it’s static. the people outside provide an ambiance, and internally, you thank them. you didn’t really feel like holding up conversation anyways, not that kuroo would let you if he had any grasp at all on your current mood.

after a few more minutes of captivation towards the open window, you glance across the middle console. while driving, kuroo looks candidly relaxed, the effect of innovation and effortless travel settling nicely on his reclined shoulders. at least one of you feels calm.

he notices you staring, and your quick to turn away. he nods off at a passing car, “talk to me, kitten.”

snorting at the borderline condescension, you cross your arms, “is it that obvious?”

he shrugs, and your face goes warm. unfortunately, he read you like a children’s book, with letters set at a font size of twenty-five. its embarrassing, yet the weight of the world is only getting heavier, and you can tell he’s prepping some pennies in exchange for your thoughts.

“i think time’s got it out for me.” you laugh it off, but instead his face contorts at your hesitancy—there’s a little bit of fear laced into your joke. when he once again pulls up to a red light, he takes his hand off the wheel. it laces with your own, and you stare at the interlock instead of him.

"i have no clue what i’m doing,” you think aloud.

a beat, and you look up to find him ogling you like a complex stoich problem. only when the car behind him beeps lightly does he jump back, glaring through the mirror.

“you’re not the only one,” he says after a while.

it almost seems dismissive, but you know it isn’t. kuroo touches your heart with empathy, you know that much by now. you know what he’s trying to say, but its not all that helpful. perhaps if you reason with him,

“it just seems like a lot of work for nothing.” and your hands fall into your lap, defeated and deflating.

“i think,” he starts ambivalently, “you should do what makes you happy.”

so maybe an eighteen year old boy isn’t all that helpful in a quarter-life crisis. still, you give him the benefit of the doubt and try to smile. he wants what’s best for you, that gesture alone is enough. presumably, he’s done—ready to let you revel in the silence for a bit longer, but he’s not.

“no one’s expecting you to be the best, it’s overrated anyways.” the last part makes your shoulder hop in entertainment, there’s a genuine upturn of your lips.

“right,” and you mean it, because he is right. mediocrity might not be too bad if it feels like this. if you have to sacrifice a score or two to feel the warm air on your face, and a firm hand in yours every once in a while—maybe it’s worth it.

things should always be this simple, and they can be—you just forget sometimes.

✿ TETSUSTATION — 2021 ; do not repost, translate, share without permission, or recycle my writing & layouts. this blog does not hesitate to hardblock in that instance!

#i got rejected from a program today and this is how i’m coping giggles #written.hq #fandom.hq #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #tetsurou kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader

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wonglix · 4 years

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➺ sɴᴇᴀᴋʏ

⤷ staff!y/n x boyfriend!hyunjae

⤷ it’s not easy dating an idol, the sneaking around taking a toll on both of you. unfortunately for you, hyunjae isn’t only your boyfriend, but you also work with him - which makes sneaking around even harder. stress and the secretive manner of your relationship prove to be a lot for you handle when you forget a really important date.

⤷ fluff, lil’ angst

⤷ 1.3k words

you loved hyunjae with all your heart, but sometimes you wished that your relationship was just a little simpler; that you maybe met under different circumstances that wouldn't require you to hide your relationship, to sneak around behind everyone's backs. it's already tough dating an idol, but it's even more stressful to work with hyunjae every single day while pretending you're nothing more than coworkers; nothing more than an idol and their staff.

the numbers of times you were almost caught exchanging small pecks backstage were too many to count; the glances you kept giving each other getting you almost in trouble way too many times. it's nice being able to work with your boyfriend, if only you didn't have to smile and pretend that all the people hitting on him weren't making you upset sometimes. at this point, you want nothing more than to be able to be open about your relationship; at least being able to tell the company without fear of getting fired.

since you're both working in the same industry, you're both aware that time is precious and that stress is a constant factor of your relationship - making the few normal dates you have ever the more special. unfortunately, fights and arguments stemming from stress and missing each other are somewhat common, both of you being too busy to keep up a regular date-schedule.

you're currently talking through the boys' schedule with their managers when you catch hyunjae waiting for you from the corner of your eye. he's staring intently at you, impatience written all over his face while waiting for you. you wave your hand at him dismissively, hopefully making him understand that this will take a little longer. you can see him huff and puff while he turns to walk away, a small smile threatening to creep its way onto your face.

the meeting took a bit longer than you expected, a small bubble of guilt rising in your chest for making hyunjae wait for so long. rushing to the practice room, you're surprised to find that hyunjae wasn't there with some of the other members. younghoon sees you in the mirror and gestures for you to come in; sangyeon, jacob, sunwoo and changmin all turning to look at you.

"hey y/n! hyunjae already went home if you're looking for him.." younghoon said, a somewhat dejected look on his face. the confusion on your face was evident and ultimately was what made sangyeon tell you about the talk they had with your boyfriend earlier.

"huyunjae was kinda...upset earlier, y/n. he really looked forward to spending the day with you today, so when the meeting suddenly came up, he got upset and just went home to cool off." you looked between them with furrowed brows, shaking your head a bit at sangyeon's words.

"we hadn't planned anything for today, though? i get that he wants to spend time with me, but we didn't make plans for today, so i don't understand why he's so upset. i wasn't the one who called for a last-minute meeting, you know?" you could feel yourself getting a bit heated; thinking that hyunjae was overreacting and dragging the others into this mess for no apparent reason.

the silence that followed was almost deafening until jacob asked a simple question, "do you know what day today is, y/n?" confusion took over your features once more, blurting out a simple "friday?" that would've made the boys laugh if it weren't for the current situation.

"and what date?" changmin probed, all of them waiting for a look of realisation to wash over your face. pulling out your phone you glance at the date on your display, "today's the twenty-......twenty-third? today's the twenty-third?!" the frown on your face was replaced by the shocked look of realisation the boys have been waiting for, all of them nodding silently.

you let out a humourless laugh, refusing to believe that you forgot a date this important, "there's no way today's the twenty-thrid, right? i would never forget, i wouldn't..." the fake confidence vanished with every word, your lip quivering at the end of your sentence.

"you did forget, y/n. but instead of beating yourself up about it here, you better go see your boyfriend to celebrate whatever is left of your anniversary," you would nag at sunwoo for his bluntness under every other circumstance; right now you could only muster a small nod though, hurrying out of the practice room while hastily waving goodbye to the boys. you couldn't help the tears that were welling up in your eyes, the stress and regret making your emotions act up.

you tried calling your boyfriend multiple times while on your way to the dorm, all to no avail - he wasn't picking up and you weren't even blaming him. you could only imagine how sad he must be; not only did you wave him off like that but now it's also abundantly clear that you forgot your anniversary. hyunjae wasn't the only one looking forward to it, you too were excited to spend the day with him and do all the stuff you had planned - picnic date, excessive cuddling, exchanging little gifts.

reaching the dorm, you stopped before knocking, taking a shaky breath to calm you down a bit. finally having worked up the courage to knock you do just that - once, twice, thrice. nothing. you knock again, the door flying open this time before you were able to knock twice. you're met with eric's displeased face, his brows furrowed.

"in his room," was the only thing he blurted out before he went back into the living room, leaving you standing in the doorway. maybe you'll scold eric for being rude later. maybe.

rushing to take your shoes and coat off you hurry to hyunjae's room, knocking on his door softly. he didn't answer, so you knocked again, "baby, it's me. i'm sorry, please let me in." it was silent for a bit until you heard the door unlock, though he didn't open it. slowly opening the door, you're met with your sulking boyfriend, sitting on his bed and playing on his phone.

slowly walking over to him, you sit down beside him, just looking at him for a bit. it's clear that he's upset, but he seems to be more sad than mad or angry. sighing you cautiously take his hand in yours, a small smile on your lips when he doesn't pull away. lifting his hand to your lips, you press a few soft kisses to his knuckles before you start speaking, "i'm sorry baby. i didn't mean to forget, but it's just been so much work lately. i'm happy you and the boys are getting the attention you deserve, but it's making my life a lot harder." hyunjae lets out a dry laugh at that, the smile on your face growing at the sound.

"you know i love you baby, and i was looking forward to it just as much as you were. i promise we'll celebrate, alright? just a bit later than planned. a belated anniversary, if you will." hyunjae finally turns to look you in the eyes, a small sigh leaving his lips.

"it's alright, i know how hard you work. i was just so excited to finally have a day just for us, you know?" nodding you lean forward a bit, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "i know baby, but we’ll catch up on it. how about we get some midnight snacks, and you stay the night at my place? i still have to give you your gift, you know."

he thinks about it a bit, his grip on your hand tightening a bit. "can i pick a movie?" you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips; hyunjae smiling at the sound. he leans forward a presses a chaste kiss to your lips, murmuring a little "happy anniversary, dork." against your lips. you nuzzle into his neck, wrapping your arms around his torso. "i promise i’ll make it up to you, jae."

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dearamericaroyaldiaries · 3 years

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Chronological Book the First

A Journey to the New World- 1620, Remember Patience Whipple

By Kathryn Lasky

Age of Protagonist: 12

#ReadingThoughts

-15 is fully grown? Big oof although I suppose that at 12, 15 is very grown indeed

-Get yourself a person like Mr. Mem’s Dad. Not all men would take their wifes’ shitty petticoat topside on a 17th century transatlantic voyage and scrub it clean so she didn’t have to sit around in a nasty petticoat.

-I honestly can’t say which I’d rather deal with: Puking for two months straight or the runs for two months straight. Both sound awful.

-Will B. is sick and the doc says it’s due to a profane life. In what way is Will B. profane? He’s under 20, lives as a Puritan, and doesn’t seem that bad to me.

- Interesting how they instantly start planning defenses against the indigenous peoples. It’s not like they’re the ones new on the scene or anything.

- This book has a lot more gastrointestinal distress than I remember as an 11ish year old.

-Did Dorothy Bradford slip or was it grief induced suicide? Mem doesn’t know and neither do we. All we have is speculation on my part.

- At age 12 she is so set in knowing that she will marry and have children. I know for some people they don’t realize they want something different that the life that’s expected for them until they are older, but it must have been so difficult for Puritans who didn’t want these things or weren’t allowed to have what they wanted or didn’t fit the mold. I suppose they could leave but that would mean starting over completely from scratch with likely no support system.

- Standish shot an eagle? Was it a bald eagle? If so shame on the author for depicting what is now a federal offense without acknowledging it. (JK, I have totally almost hit a bald eagle on multiple occasions because it had a death wish and it is currently very much a federal offense to INTENTIONALLY harm a bald eagle. Which I have never done. It was all accidental and no bald eagles were harmed in the reading of this book.)

-So how long before Mam dies of TB?

-Poor Mem does indeed know too much of death for one so young even if it is the 17th century.

-Yeah, you get more responsibilities because Mam wants you to be able to run the house when she kicks the bucket. (Unfortunately I called it.)

-Mem isn’t in the wrong for being frustrated and Mistress Potts should have communicated better but Mem isn’t completely blameless because she doesn’t like the idea of her as a stepmom and Mistress Potts is grieving two major losses.

-Sarcastic summation of the view of Indigenous Peoples: Wow they’re so strong and healthy! Maybe we aren’t 100% right about everything all of the time!

-The scandal of taking off her coif in public seems odd to modern eyes for sure. I kinda think we should being back coifs/caps/hats in everyday usage... even if I feel that hats aren’t the most flattering on me.

Look at that embroidery! Isn’t it beautiful!? Probably too fancy for Puritans but it’s still gorgeous.

-I’m glad that Mem has worked through at least some of her grief and has come around more towards Hannah (Mistress Potts)

-Also there was an arc about Mem being the first kiddo in the settlement to have a stool and how it caused drama with one of the other girls but I apparently didn’t write down any thoughts on that which is a glaring omission on my part. Please judge me accordingly.

Overall Thoughts After Reading

I was expecting the representation of indigenous peoples to be a lot worse. I also prefer books with a romance to them and while there was mention of a couple of teens being sweet on each other it was so insignificant I can’t remember their names. I get it. Mem is 12. A major romance arc would be really weird and not good. I can be patient until we get to the books where the main character is older. In the mean time, give me Mr. Mem’s Dad’s story. Dude is a class act. Washes out his wife’s shitty petticoat less than 5 pages in. (Yes I am still hung up on that act of devotion.) Carves his girl a stool so she’s the first one with a stool in all the settlement. Finds love (?) or at least companionship with someone who understands to some extent what he’s gone through. I said it before and I’ll say it again: Find you a man like Mr. Mem’s Dad.

I thought it was good to show the toll loosing her mother had on Mem and that she had to work though a lot. She wasn’t sure about her dad remarrying but slowly started to come around. It had nothing do with who he was marrying and was completely about Mem not wanting to feel like her mother was being replaced. I’m glad that the afterward shows how close they became.

Also for a book about the founding of Plymouth Colony I thought there would be more on indigenous peoples and I was expecting it to be rough. What was here wasn’t great, but it could have been worse.

Thoughts on the Afterward

I always thought the afterwards were fun because you get to learn what happened to the person you just read a book about.

Much like the rest of the book, I thought it was fine. It was good that Kathryn Lasky acknowledged that not all of the Pilgrims were successful in Plymouth. This book was fine, but it wasn’t one of my favorites when I was first reading the series and I was in the target demographic. I don’t think it’ll be one of my favorites when I finish this read through.

Rating: 6/10 Shitty Petticoats

Possible rating contenders were water lily roots, Pilgrim hats, and questionable representations of indigenous peoples but it had to be shitty petticoats. Come on. What other option did I have realistically?

Photo Credit:

Book Cover: https://tinyurl.com/4cr7p8xk

Coif: https://tinyurl.com/22t53byz

#Dear America #Read with me #Pilgrims #History #Historical Fiction #Remember Patience is quite the name.#It may be a review of a kids book but I use a bad language word a couple of times.

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skellebonez · 3 years

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Monkie Kid Headcanons Part 2: Red Son and Demon Bull Family Backstory

Follow up to this post, with a lot more heavy thinking needed this time. Since these characters technically had backstories in Journey to the West, I wanted to really think over how to work those into what we have in the show (even though it kinda doesn’t 100% work and is really messy if you overthink it since the show throws some stuff to the wayside). This took me multiple days to work out so I hope it at least makes sense.

Warning: This one actually gets very VERY dark with emotional and psychological abuse detailed in the later half, so I am putting all of these under a read more. Seriously. I want you to be aware of this before you click that button. Do not ignore this warning please.

I PROMISE that part 3 will be a lot less heavy. I just wanted to get this out so I could finally move on from it.

First, gonna preface this with the fact we all know Monkie Kid is not 100% accurate to Journey to the West. Characters that are supposed to be dead are alive after all, and Red Son’s existence in the show itself in particular kinda makes no sense when I overthink about him. Red Boy is evil in his first appearance, but comes back redeemed way later in the novel (and with his name changed to that of an actual deity who had already existed outside of JTTW with a completely different backstory).

In reality, JTTW is fiction based on historical events and Monkie Kid is made to be a kid’s show and was never going to be accurate to the novel. Not even adaptations of JTTW are. So basically, I headcanon this: in the show, JTTW the novel exists as a highly accurate and very important piece of historical novelization (a non-fiction novel). But like most examples of real non-fiction novels (like Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood), it is not entirely accurate and there are bits and pieces that do not line up. It is, however, incredibly close to 98% accuracy and anyone in it who reads it is impressed.

That being said, Red Son did study with Guanyin for quite a few years (though he was not entirely redeemed like his book counterpart, he was getting there). He actually did learn a lot and was pretty darn happy to be under her teaching at the time. Mostly because he didn’t know what was going on outside...

Unfortunately, later portions of JTTW confirm that Red Son being taken... completely ruined Monkey King and Demon Bull King’s friendly relationship. So that, combined with other events in the Fiery Mountains, it is incredibly likely that is why DBK was so bent on ruling and taking out Wukong for good. He wanted revenge for a lot of stuff Monkey King did.

Before we get into the depressing stuff, I personally headcanon that DBK was actually just. Dead. Completely dead. That is why he went from being covered in floof to being big buff body builder man. Hair does not grow back when you are dead. Removing the staff completely revived him. I needed a silly weird headcanon in here ok?

Since Princess Iron Fan calls him her husband, not her ex-husband as he had divorced her to be with Princess Jade Face in JTTW, I think they either reconciled at some point or PJF... didn’t exist? Since LMK is a kid’s show the later is more likely... but this is my headcanon. Given her personality in the show and book I think it is possible that they mutually divorced due to losing Red Son, DBK remarried, then realized he still loved PIF and wanted to go back to her and she took him back.

We don’t actually know much about PJF so... uh... I like to think she was shockingly chill about it and is just living comfortably somewhere else now. And never wants to see Monkey King again. I hope she is living her best fox spirit life.

Also unfortunately, DBK did not stand a chance and when he was sealed it took a major toll on PIF. She was left alone, her renewed husband either trapped or dead under a mountain and her son kinda sorta still arrested by a deity. This made her more distant to everyone and a lot more cold.

When news of what happened to his father reached Red Son, he pleaded with Guanyin to be allowed to leave her teaching to stay with his mother. He knew what isolation felt like and did not wish for her to feel the same any longer. Guanyin trusted her disciple and allowed him to return to his mother permanently, if he desired. Alone.

This was a mistake. Oh boy was this a mistake. Heaven should have either sent someone else completely or had someone accompany Red Son to PIF to help her because this one decision is why everything in show happens.

At first things go pretty well. PIF is definitely in need of support, but she is ecstatic to see her son again. And that lasts. For a while. Until she starts to project onto Red. She starts to blame him for being captured, for not being strong enough to take out Wukong when he had the True Samadhi Fire, for not being there to keep DBK from leaving her, for not being there to help his father fight Wukong a second time. Everything is Red Son’s fault now.

This simmers for a while before it starts to come forth to the surface. She starts being colder and more distant and giving Red little jabs in their conversations. She says them so sweetly it always takes Red a second to register what she says.

“Oh Red Son, if only your father were here to see this. Too bad you weren’t there to save him.” “I love you my son, even if you can be useless at times.” “Princess Jade Face would have loved you I bet, but you were far too busy with the celestials to visit. I understand.”

This starts to wear Red down after a while, until he starts to believe his mother. He WASN’T there when he father was defeated, he COULD have taken care of Wukong, he WAS the reason his father left his mother. She was as warm and loving to him as she was when he was a small child when he came back but now? Now she’s as cold to him as anyone else.

She is never outright physically abusive, that is below her in her mind. But other things? Like not having his meals prepared along side hers? Insulting him as casually as saying the sky is blue? Pointing out every mistake he makes when writing or working on a project? Taking his things and “losing” them, only to “find” them days later in a place she told him to look and telling him he needs to be more careful? “Mistakenly” locking Red Son in his room and ignoring his yells and pleas to be let out? Those are on the table.

And this is when he becomes obsessed with getting back in her good graces and starts to push aside his teachings from Guanyin. He just wants his mother back.

His mother does not come back... but his old self does.

Guanyin does not learn of this until long after it is impossible to convince Red Son to leave his mother. She has the kneejerk reaction to just take him back by force but... for some reason she does not. She lets him stay. Perhaps she does not want to make the wrong decision again. Perhaps she feels she taught him everything she could. No one really knows. She does not discuss this.

After a while PIF does lessen her emotional and psychological abuse, once she is certain Red Son will never leave her. She even starts to treat him nicely, like her son who she always loved, like a mother again, even praises and defends him from others again (and Red Son eats it up because this is exactly what he wanted and just fuels his determination to prove himself and stay in her good graces). And at the time the show begins she has come to terms with the fact Red Son was not, in fact, at fault for anything and even regrets this portion of her life.

Make no mistake, however, her treating him less bad, even well at times, now does NOT in any way absolve her of how she treated him in the past. She is still abusive and she has done nothing that could truly set anything right. She still calls him things like “her sweet useless boy” and pulls shit like the racing episode. It’s not really any better. It’s just not actively as bad as it used to be at the moment.

DBK in show did not notice how PIF had changed because in the pilot he was too distracted with being revived and as the show went on he was too distracted with the power of the White Bone Spirit calling to him.

Upon a rewatch he actually seems to be under WBS’s thrall multiple times before episode 10, such as the racing episode where we can clearly see his eyes glowing with possession blue, and I think this affected his personality a bit. Not much, I think he was still neglectful and cold to Red Son from the get go, but WBS probably exacerbated the worst parts of his personality long before taking over completely.

But I think he sure does notice NOW that the thrall no longer has him. Whether or not he does anything about this is up in the air, however. It is entirely possible he falls fully into neglect and does nothing to stop anything.

Red Son knows, very deep down, that his father is neglectful and his mother is abusive. He knows. He just won’t admit that not even demons are like this to their children. Won’t admit that he doesn’t deserve it, that he never deserved it. Because he loved his mother deeply before he left. He loved her when she convinced him he did. And he still loves her, and his father. He’s stubborn. He doesn’t want to give up on that.

It is going to take a LOT for someone to show him that he deserves better. But having his father back has not been everything he had hoped it would be and now... now it may be possible for someone to reach him. At least convince him that SOMETHING needs to change.

#I am warning you now #if you read tags before clicking read more #there is a lot of depressing shit and angst in here #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #red son #demon bull king #dbk #princess iron fan #pif #white bone spirit #wbs #headcanons #seriously #everything from 10 down is heavy #DBK and PIF are bad parents #that is going to be a recurring tag on this blog #get this family into therapy they need it #I'm going to be transparent here in the tags #i don't write this kind of stuff without either a lot of time and research #or personal experience #in this case it is both #I am basing how red son feels on how I used to feel in my own family relationship #I actually use my personal experiences #good and bad #for a lot of my writing #so I know exactly how messed up this dynamic is and that he needs outside help #i also know that if he does get outside help? He'll be ok #I promise he at least ends up ok in rainy talks #queued

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ca311ach · 3 years

Text

Mistake

#dekubaku #dkbk #bakudeku #bkdk

Warning: Major Character Death (?)

(Note: I hate sad endings. Keep that in mind.)

They were so close in the beginning...

Deku and katsuki have been growing apart. Deku’s working all the time, katsuki never sees him anymore— it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to be there. They never talk, never eat together, never go anywhere together, it’s all just work—they don’t even sleep together, Deku crashes at the office more often than not. Deku brushes it all off, says he really doesn’t have time for this conversation, they’ll talk later—

“Oh, will we? ‘Cause-“

“Yeah, sure, Kacchan, look, I really have to go-“

“Then maybe you shouldn’t fucking come back.” Katsuki’s angry, not really paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth. He regrets saying it almost immediately, clenches his jaw against the apology balanced on the edge of his tongue-

“Maybe I shouldn’t.” -only for it to dissipate and coat his throat in ashes. Deku’s still shoving clothes into his go bag, hasn’t looked up even once during the conversation. Like it doesn’t matter. Like their relationship and it’s impending end mean absolutely nothing to him. Katsuki stares, sinuses prickling, the room blurring just a little at the edges.

“do you... do you even love me anymore?” The question slips out before he can stop it. Dread drops heavily into his stomach, debris from the beating, breaking thing in his chest.

“...I’ll come by in the morning. Get my things.” Deku pauses, hesitates. Katsuki wants him to look up, to look at him. Just once. They’ve both always been so damn bad with words but they wear their hearts on their sleeves. If Deku would just look at him- “Bye.” Katsuki’s body goes cold. When Deku pushes past him, he does nothing. Stands on numb, shaky legs as the front door opens, shuts. No particular force behind it. No anger, no hesitation, just open and shut. It feels like a dismissal.

Suddenly, katsuki can’t be here anymore, in their shared space with the dozens of photos on the walls, the old worn out sofa with that weirdly shaped stain on the rightmost cushion, the out-of-place poster in the kitchen because katsuki isn’t good with surprises. The all might curtains in the living room because they’re both nerds, the football-sized Pomeranian plushy Deku got him because ‘it looks just like you’. That soap dispenser in the bathroom that looks kinda like a dick but Deku always says is an abstract cat. Their bed.

He stands in the door of their bedroom for a while, itching to leave but not wanting to run into Deku on his way out. What feels like hours later, he throws on a coat, grabs his keys, and rushes from the apartment like a culprit from a grisly crime scene.

He goes to Eijirou and Mina for the night. Their house is always open to him, a haven away from his empty home. He tries not to utilize it much, stubbornly denying his loneliness until the sleep deprivation starts to affect his work.

There’s a large scale villain attack the next day.

Number one hero Deku’s not there to answer the call. He and pro hero Shouto had left the country just that morning for a mission.

The villain has a metallurgy quirk that allows them to control and warp any magnetic metal within their vicinity. The greater the magnetism, the more control they have. They’ve been souped up on an unstable trigger knockoff, developed by an underground lab syndicate. As a result, their influence has expanded to a larger radius and to metals they wouldn’t typically be able to work with. Driven insane by the power, the villain is tearing apart the city of Fukuoka indiscriminately, tearing pipes up through the ground, supports from buildings, smashing cars into groups of civilians and using lampposts as oversized baseball bats. Smaller pieces of metal have become cannon balls, bullets. The civilian death toll is climbing, at least three heroes have been killed; the situation is horrific. Heroes from across Japan are called in to help.

Lemillion and his partner, Suneater, had been first to the scene, there when the perpetrator’s quirk spiraled out of control. They were rushed to the hospital before the roads had filled with flying debris and fleeing civilians. Gale is down for the count— the villain had used his quirk against him, sent hundreds of tiny projectiles to ride his wind and penetrate his skin. Creati managed to slow the villain’s trek across Fukuoka, distracting her with any number of non-metallic obstacles and distance-based weaponry. Unfortunately, the swirl of metal constantly rotating the villain thwarted any attempts at getting close. Plastic sedation bullets ricocheted off flying mufflers and mopeds. Ingenium had to rush in and grab her when she collapsed from exhaustion, narrowly avoiding a sharp piece of sheet metal, poised to slice them in half.

Dynamite arrives late alongside Pinky and Red Riot. He’d called in sick for the day, tired and numb, having spent the night staring at the wall of the Kirishimas’ guest bedroom. The couple had taken the day off, too, to keep an eye on Katsuki. None of them expected the urgent call from their superior, ordering them to Fukuoka /immediately/ to assist in taking down a level nine threat.

Dynamite goes into the fight determined to do the best he can, exhausted as he is, heartbroken and puffy eyed. He’s sloppy, reckless, pushes himself past his limits and then some. He’s shot with makeshift bullets, impaled with scraps, maimed by debris. He’s torn apart.

In the end, Dynamite wins the fight but Katsuki loses his life.

Izuku is watching the fight from Europe where he and Shouto have been temporarily commissioned. He feels helpless, guilty, even before Dynamite turns up on screen. Hasn’t been able to shake the heaviness in his chest since that morning, when he’d rushed to grab more of his things from their shared apartment before heading to the airport. The feeling only multiples when his husband appears on screen, builds from his stomach up to his throat. His chest hurts. He wishes he was there, he wishes he hadn’t left Kacchan like he had, with their relationship up in the air. They were going through a rough patch, and it’s not like he’d been trying to smooth it over at all. Katsuki was perfectly in his right to be angry, especially when Izuku repeatedly dismissed his concerns for the sake of work.

The Dynamite on screen was a mess, though it might not look like it to anyone else. Izuku knew his Kacchan, knew Dynamite, how he moved, how his attacks worked, the explicit precision behind his every maneuver. The Dynamite on screen was reckless and sloppy, throwing himself at the villain again and again. Izuku would swear that he could hear a sharp crunch the next time the villain grabs Dynamite with claws of sharp scrap metal and slams him into the ground.

Still, he blasts himself out of that crushing clutch, propels himself into the air, bleeding and bruised and so obviously broken despite the distance between the fight and the helicopter’s camera. Izuku wishes he could grab him, hold him down, tell him to ‘stop, already, dammit, you’re gonna die if you keep this up.’ But all he can do is watch as Dynamite once again throws himself at the villain, narrowly dodging her reaching, grabbing metal hands, to propel himself into the whirl of torn and splintered metal rotating around her.

He makes it through, disappears into the artificial twister. The circumference of the area he entered is dyed red, a skirt of blood and gore and proof that all the world watching may have just witnessed Dynamite getting shredded into bloody pulp. Izuku’s eyes water, the guilt and the helplessness and the love for his husband that could never fade, never in a million lifetimes, finally clog his throat. He can’t help it, though, the hope in his chest. He’s not dead. Katsuki is not dead.

The whirl of metal stops, suddenly. The scene on the television is completely still; he’d almost think the thing had frozen if not for the exclamations of the live reporter. And then it all falls, loudly, dramatically, a veritable ruckus that has almost everyone in the foreign office around him hurriedly blocking their ears. Izuku can’t move. Can’t breath. The camera zooms.

Dynamite stands over the prone body of the villain. He looks... horrific. Nightmarish. More blood and gore than body. The reporter gasps. The office around Izuku is silent.

Dynamite falls.

And Izuku goes cold.

No.

A winged hero, Blue Jay some part of him interjects, flies over, drops down to let the two medics they have in their arms tend to Dynamite. Uravity follows, hurriedly floating debris and pushing it to the side, making way for more medical personnel. Her movements are frantic.

Not like this.

They finally get the ambulance through, load dynamite in with practiced speed and, sirens wailing, take off across the screen. Blue jay kneels beside the still unconscious villain, grabs at Uravity’s arm to draw her distracted eyes away from a cause she can no longer do anything for.

Not like this, please.

Izuku takes the first flight he can find back to Japan, Shouto at his back. They’re off the flight the second it touches down, in a car not long after.

The hospital is a mess, handling an overload of casualties from the fight. So many civilians injured, so many heroes, too. It’s a struggle to break through bustling nurses and doctors and weeping families, but Izuku and Shouto get to the desk, are promptly sent back to the ER waiting room.

Hours pass, no one comes to talk to them. He and Shouto watch people come and go, watch doctors deliver the good, the bad, and the horrible. Finally, someone comes. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes wide but shuttered. She stares at them for a moment, Izuku and Shouto, and they stare back at her. When the tension reaches a boiling point, she takes a deep shuddering breath and, with a voice choked by grief, she says,

“I’m sorry.”

And Izuku’s world /shatters/.

#my fic #dkbk #bkdk #bakudeku #dekubaku #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #fanfic #angst

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

Junhui: Oh, Positive (Part One)

Characters: Junhui x female reader

Genre/warnings: vampire/vampire hunter au, kinda angst but not really that angsty tbh, kinda crack thanks to flirty and sassy vampire!jun, lots n lots of cringey flirting

Word count: 2,163

Summary: As a vampire hunter, your job is pretty self-explanatory. But sometimes, the enemy has to become your ally, and that’s exactly what happens when you're ordered to track down Jun. To stop the coven of vampires that’re bringing up the death toll in Tokyo, you have to work with the thing you’re trained to kill -- assuming the two of you don’t kill each other in the process.

a/n: there will be more parts but i’m not sure how many which is why there isn’t a masterlist yet. this is just a lil idea i’ve had for a while sooooo it’s not really top priority so updates will probably be slow. but idk i wanted it out there (and yes i wrote this bc i love vampire!jun from that web series)

“Don’t kill him, just capture him. Bring him back here when you do.”

Those stupid instructions kept repeating in your head. What was the point of capturing a vampire and not killing it? All vampires were bad. They killed humans. That’s why you existed. You were trained to kill them on sight, but now you were being told to show some sort of mercy. What sort of bullshit was that?

But your boss gave you orders so you would follow them even if you didn’t agree with them.

It had taken a few days to figure out where to find this Jun. There were apparently a few places he hung around, so you were checking those places. It was well into 2am and most of the streets were empty. However, most vampires were known to linger in the alleyways of more crowded places, hoping to lure humans away to feed on them. So you stuck to the shadows, watching and listening carefully for any sign of--

‘Vampire.’

You froze as soon as you sensed it, knowing exactly where it was. You didn’t make it obvious you knew, but you stayed in your spot, slowly moving your head to seem like you were surveying the area. In reality, you knew it was perched on the fire escape above you, ready to pounce down on you.

But you were ready for that.

Just as it leaped down, you rolled out of the way, swiftly and smoothly pulling your knife out of its sheath. You were on your feet and running at the vampire quick enough to catch it off guard. Since you knew where it was, you had time to figure out your plan. So you tackled it to the ground, straddling it and holding your knife to its throat.

And lo and behold, it was just the vampire you were looking for. Jun looked up at you with a smirk, his eyes blood red as he eyed you up and down, licking his lips hungrily.

“Wasn’t expecting my dinner to be so quick on its feet,” he chuckled. “Shouldn’t have been so careless, I guess.”

“Shut up,” you stated boredly as you used your free hand to get the handcuffs from your belt.

“So what now?” he asked, ignoring your order. “Are you gonna kill me or whatever?”

“As much as I would like to,” you sighed as you began cuffing his hands together, “I have to take you somewhere.”

“Ooh, an adventure,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as you managed to get off of him and tug him to his feet. “Just one question, sweetheart--”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you really expect some handcuffs to stop me?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at him, “Do you not know anything about vampire hunters?”

He shrugged, “Never been caught by one.”

“Well, those will keep you from running away. Now let’s go.”

You turned to walk away, but, of course, Jun had other ideas.

“Thanks but uh, I think going home with you after the first date is too early for me,” he said, miming tipping his hat to you. “Sorry, but this won’t work out. Please don’t contact me again. Bye!”

You knew vampires were quick. You knew Jun could easily get away and you wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to follow your instincts to find him again, but you knew he’d definitely be hiding pretty well for the rest of the night and probably for a few weeks at minimum. But you also knew how the handcuffs worked while Jun had no idea.

He was only a few feet from you when he shouted out in pain and had dropped to his knees. He was hissing as he stared at his wrists that had felt the painful shock, looking between them like he was trying to figure out a difficult math problem.

“Those’ll shock you if you’re a certain distance away from me,” you explained, “and it’s so painful that you can’t get away. So I suggest you keep up or you’re going to be in a lot of pain.”

“Look, I’m into pain, but this is too much,” Jun huffed with a small pout as you dragged him up off his knees and shoved him to walk in the direction you wanted him to. “Do I at least get a safe word?”

“Shut up,” you groaned.

“That’s a really shitty safe word.”

You wondered why you’d spent days trying to track down Jun when he was so obnoxious and annoying. The entire way back to headquarters was awful, containing him trying to flirt with you or make some sort of comment that walked the line between flirting and being a snarky asshole. Honestly, that seemed to be all he was capable of.

“I really wish I wasn’t told to not kill you,” you sighed halfway through.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate,” was all he replied to you with before he carried on with whatever he was saying before -- you weren’t paying attention, you’d learned very quickly to tune him out.

Once you were back at headquarters, you thought maybe Jun would shut up a little bit. You thought maybe being in a place full of top of the line vampire hunters would intimidate him into silence, but he seemed to not be fazed by anything at all. He had something to say to pretty much every person you walked past, and it got to a point where you were pretty positive every hunter in there wanted to kill him. The guy was just so annoying.

You finally reached the boss’s office. You knocked on the door three times as Jun leaned down and whispered, “Is this where I die? Because I’d like the heads up when it finally happens, y’know?”

You knew Jun definitely wouldn’t just take his death lying down. Hell, he probably had something up his sleeve to get out if he had to, he probably wanted to just see where this was going -- and you would be right about that because he figured he had nothing better to do.

“I wish,” you mumbled as you heard your boss tell you to enter.

Opening the door and walking in, you went straight to the boss’s desk. Jun, however, decided to take his sweet ass time and look around the large room, his head tilting back as he looked all the way up at the ceiling and rolled his head around to look at the other side of the room. But being too far from you caused his cuffs to shock him, and he let out a surprised yelp.

“Are you kidding me?!” he demanded in annoyance.

You just silently snickered at him.

“I’m impressed you found him,” your boss, Jicheol noted as he stood up from his desk and observed Jun.

Hearing that familiar voice, Jun snapped his head down to look at the man behind the desk. His face spread into a smirk as he approached the desk, standing beside you.

“Ji, long time, no see,” he said casually as if they were old friends. “Been a while since you were trying to slaughter me. How’s the wife?”

“Dead,” Jicheol deadpanned.

Jun opened his mouth but nothing came out as he blinked, “Okay, not the reply I was expecting...”

“So what did I have to drag this pain in the ass here for?” you sighed, wanting to get this whole thing done and over with.

Jicheol grabbed his computer monitor with both hands and turned the screen to face you. It was an article about the death toll in Japan going up, and the worst of it seeming to stem from Tokyo. Nobody was able to figure out what it was, but the three of you knew exactly what was causing it.

“As you’re aware, _____, a powerful coven of vampires is ravaging Tokyo and spreading to the rest of Japan,” Jicheol began, looking between you and Jun. “Jun here is, unfortunately, one of the most infamous vampires in Korea for how hard he is to catch, and for how strong he is.”

“Thanks, chief,” Jun grinned.

You already hated where this was going.

“That’s why I want you to go with him to Tokyo--”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Jun quickly interrupted. “Let’s go back to when you were just complimenting me, yeah? You ruined it with the whole ‘go to another country with this party pooper’ thing.”

Jicheol sighed, folding his hands together in front of him, “_____ is the strongest vampire hunter we have, but all the best in Japan have tried to catch this coven and have come up dead. If we want to stop them, we need the help of a strong vampire, too.”

“And why would I help vampire hunters?” Jun quizzed, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll just kill me when it’s over.”

“Maybe not...” Jicheol shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘maybe not’?” you demanded.

“He could be useful to us if he chooses to cooperate with us for this. And if he chooses to stay with us, of course he’ll be spared his life, and we’ll provide protection, housing, and means of food.”

“We’re going to protect a vampire?” you clarified. “Jicheol--”

“Yeah, that seems counterproductive for a group of vampire hunters,” Jun agreed.

You rolled your eyes, grumbling, “Can you not interrupt me?”

“Can you get to your point faster then?” he countered.

Instead of speaking on your bickering, Jicheol sighed and continued, “It would be helpful to keep a few vampires on our side to weed out the difficult ones. Look, we could sit here all night and discuss rhymes and reasons but the faster I get the two of you to Tokyo, the faster we can fix this issue.”

“Do I get a negotiation?” Jun asked.

You snorted, glancing down at his handcuffed wrists before looking back at him, “I really don’t think you’re in a position for negotiating, bud.”

But instead, Jicheol replied with, “What kind of negotiation?”

Jun flashed a snarky grin your way before taking a step forward and clearing his throat, “I want protection for my brothers, too. That’s first and foremost.”

“How many?” Jicheol questioned, raising his eyebrows to show he was interested.

“Four.”

“Would they be willing to help?”

“...I can talk to them.”

Jicheol nodded, “Continue.”

“I want cool clothes like sweet cheeks over here,” Jun said, nodding his head toward you, “and I want a really nice umbrella so I can go outside during the day. And I want--”

“We can offer your friends protection,” Jicheol stated.

Jun nodded, stepping back, “Cool, thank you, sir.”

You looked incredulously between the two men, “So this is seriously happening?!”

“We’ll prepare the flight for tomorrow night,” Jicheol explained, essentially ignoring your comment, “so that gives Jun time to talk with his friends. _____, I would like if you accompanied him to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

You wanted to tell Jicheol he was out of his goddamn mind if he thought sending you alone into five vampires was a reasonable idea, but the look on your face said it all. He simply said he knew you could handle it before carrying on.

“We’ll handle packing and such. We’ll equip you with everything you’ll need and everything that’ll help you. Please report back here tomorrow at midnight.”

“What do I do with him until tomorrow night?” you wondered.

“Take him with you,” Jicheol replied as if the answer was obvious.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “You-- Y-you want me to babysit a handcuffed vampire all day?”

Jicheol cocked his head, “Do you think you can’t handle it?”

“Of course I can!” you insisted immediately.

“Then what’s the issue, _____?”

You really wanted to snap at Jicheol and tell him to go fuck himself, but instead you just grumbled and turned sharply on your heels to leave. Jun giggled at your angry expression and began to follow after you.

“Goodbye, Jicheol!” he sang over his shoulder. “See ya later!”

“You two have fun,” Jicheol smirked playfully.

Jun sighed as he fell in step beside you, seeming more amused than ever now, “Oh, I’m positive we will. Isn’t that right, _____?”

You frowned, refusing to look at him, “Eat a dick.”

As the door closed behind you and the two of you walked down the hallway, Jun tisked, “I would watch your attitude around me or I just might end up eating you, sunshine.”

“I’d like to see you try, bloodsucker,” you shot back, glaring at him now. “I can kill you just as easy.”

He chuckled shaking his head as his voice dropped lower, “That’s not the kind of eating I meant.”

You cursed yourself for blushing -- and Jun definitely noticed because he was giggling about it -- and cursed Jicheol for getting you into this mess. But the sooner everything was over with, the sooner you didn’t have to deal with Junhui.

Tomorrow night really could not come faster.

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greasygyeom · 4 years

Text

Title: Blame it on Me [Part II: Where Do We Go From Here?]

By: GreasyGyeom

Summary: what is someone supposed to do when they have to choose between the love of their life and the career of their dreams.

Word Count: 9.2k

Yugyeom x Reader / Angst, smut (kinda)..more angst. (i use noona but just pretend it’s y/n)

Warnings: Mature content please read only if 18+

Author’s Note: i am back after two weeks this is a character development guys. hope you like part II !! if you do leave an ask or write in your tags. i love hearing from you guys! tell me if it made you feel something. if there’s spelling errors, let me know hahaha. love you guys and thank you for reading.

Read Part I here

Your night burnt by slowly, filled with explanations and fake acceptances of congratulations that everyone showered you with; that you had no interest in. The only reason you stayed awake was because you were hoping Yugyeom would actually come back. Little did you know he’d been so drunk BamBam had to let him pass out on the couch and keep a bucket right next to him; because if drinking had taught him anything, the amount Yugyeom had, he was bound to throw up.

You, poetically so, had also passed out on the couch. It was hard to believe that in the afternoon you were in a relationship, getting fucked out of your mind and by night you were single, bawling in your living room.

Still, he had to come back at some point, it was his house after all. How was he going to go to work without his clothes? BamBam for sure wasn’t going to let him stretch out his T-shirts.

Hanging onto that hope, you prepared breakfast in the morning, which unfortunately sat out cold until noon, while you face timed your best friend and let out all your pent up emotions.

She advised you to not hang onto the hope of him wanting to be with you for a few days extra. It wasn’t fair to him, because everything said and done, you were leaving. If there was a way around it, you would have done everything within your control to get that promotion without the transfer. Unfortunately the path you were going to take had been set in stone by your company. There was no space for any alterations left.

You didn’t want this to happen but really, what else were you expecting. This was never going to have a happy ending from the start.

Last week you’d wanted him to act like a douchebag so you could be bitter and cop out of being hurt over having to break up with the best guy you’d ever known.

You finally understood why ‘be careful what you wish for’ was such a self-fulfilling prophecy.

After your long distance chat, begrudgingly you got dressed for the office; even though you didn’t have to really go officially—you were off until you started at London next Friday—there was some paperwork that needed your signature. You wanted to get it over with so as to spend the next few days peacefully crying in bed.

Half-heartedly walking to the train station, you wondered if you’d even crossed Yugyeom’s mind since yesterday.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you wanted to know if he was thinking about you; or was it just you that was miserable.

He was.

Of course he was.

While he chugged a bottle of water, because his mouth felt like sandpaper, all he could worry about was how you were going to pack all your belongings in such a short amount of time, without forgetting the most important stuff; and how he was going to not lose his sanity over it.

Ominously so, life had come such a full circle for him; because had your colleague not been a student at the academy, he would have never met you.

The work-life that brought you to him, ultimately took you away too.

Funny how the universe works, right?

He’d drank so much alcohol the previous night in hopes of forgetting you that even an hour without your face swimming in his head would have been worth it. Yet, all night all he lamented about was how unfair it was that he was going to have to let you go.

His friend circle–that over time had also become your friend circle–had been made aware of the whole ordeal, so they knew what to expect. They were just surprised by the magnanimity of it.

Yugyeom had never been heartbroken—at least to this extent. In the 10+ years of knowing him, he’d never expressed so many emotions in such little time to any of his friends. It was like witnessing a compressed pack of cocaine burst under high pressure; messy and not a good look for anyone.

When he woke up he already had a text from Jaebeom very sternly asking him to not come in to work until he got his shit together, several texts from Mark asking how he was feeling and to start hydrating his body immediately, and a whole essay from Jackson on how he should drop his tough guy act and be with you till it was time to go.

He hated being called out like that.

Yugyeom: Hyung you’re supposed to be my friend and tell me I should forget her immediately. His text elicited an immediate response.

Jackson: Listen you brat. I’m your friend that’s why I’m asking you to spend the last few days she is here with her. Because I know you and you’re going to regret this later.

Yugyeom: Tell me, how does it matter if she’s out of my life today or after five days?

Jackson: You won’t even try to stay in touch?

Yugyeom: No.

Jackson: Is that a mutual decision?

Yugyeom stopped replying after that, because now that he was sober, he was back to not being able to aptly express his feelings and he actually didn’t know the answer to that question.

He’d thought about this so much yesterday, while in bed next to you. There was no expiration date on your time in London, there wasn’t even any guarantee that after London you’d come back—you could get transferred to anywhere in the world. That particular uncertainty had torn his heart into smithereens and had led him to end the relationship so abruptly.

It had seemed logical yesterday.

Today? not so much.

You’d zoned out staring at a travel bag while window shopping. After your work was done you thought of giving retail therapy a shot, an endeavour that was proving to be extremely unsuccessful, for the lack of focus you were carrying with you.

A loud, screeching, honking bus on the road snapped you back to reality, but not really. You were still dazed and confused and within seconds wanted to go back home, wondering why you thought this was a good idea in the first place.

You did buy three pastries and a venti on your way though, to devour your feelings once home. To discover that you’d forgotten how you lived life before Yugyeom and not understand how to combat it, was definitely taking a toll on you. The concept of being without him seemed so outlandish, it felt like a distant dream you might have had in your childhood. For now, until you found a way out of this maze, unhealthy coping mechanisms would have to do.

Truth be told, you were itching to call him. When it came to him, your ego was barely existent.

You were still plenty mad and wanted him to realise how stupid he was for not taking you up on the offer last night, of course, but you also wanted hear his voice equally badly, at the cost of him being unwilling to entertain you.

You had been postponing your urge every hour, since morning, because this time around you were reluctant to lose this battle; even though you’d already lost the war.

At 9am it was ‘Wait for another hour, maybe he’ll turn up.’ At 10am it became ‘Maybe I’ll stop by the studio’– but that was too much effort (and you were in no mood to face Jaebeom). When you were leaving for work, you baited yourself by saying you’ll call him after you were done at the office and currently you were convincing yourself to wait till you reached back home, so that at least when he ignored your calls, you could cry into a cup of tiramisu and feel better about it.

That thought was more comforting than it needed to be.

This awkwardness of not being able to wiggle your way into his life this time, was eating you inside, honestly. It’s not that you’d never had disagreements and fights before, where he’d left for Bam’s because he was too frustrated to even talk to you—in spite of him indulging his anger to a bare minimum, there had been plenty of those. But this was the only one time where saying sorry and promising to buy him chocoshakes for a week wasn’t going to cut it.

Along your route home, you bought more food—a full loaf of strawberry bread from the train station, some chips and a sandwich at the convenience store, a slice from the pizzeria nearby and finally your favourite fried chicken. Clearly, you had a lot of feelings to chew through and some days of solitude to chew them.

You hadn’t anticipated the struggle to get your apartment door to open, with all those packets hanging on your arms, trying not to spill any of the contents. What you also didn't anticipate was Yugyeom opening the door from inside, asking you to hand over some of the things you were holding.

You felt your system shut down like windows 98 being attacked by a trojan.

Was this real? Was this a delusion and you'd really just dropped everything on the floor?

“Yu….gyeom?” You called out, afraid of not actually hearing an answer.

“Why are you still standing outside, noona?”

“Oh-uhm-I….” you fumbled, before closing the door. “This.. is-uh?? Hmm-what-what are you… doing here?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He replied curtly.

You furrowed your brows accompanying it with frown lines on your forehead, indicative of the confusion you were unable to convey verbally.

However, you chose not to question him further, not wanting to go wherever that interrogation would have taken you. You were more than content to see him move around at close proximity, even if it was in silence.

There were plenty of places he could have gone, really, he didn’t have to be there if he didn’t want to; but he did want to. Oh god he’d wanted to see you so badly. More so than the hangover, it was a bizarre feeling in his chest, from the way he’d behaved with you last night, that had caused him discomfort all morning. That and Jackson’s messages.

Was he really not even going to try to keep in touch? But then….. who likes to stay in touch with an ex?

“Want some cake?” you asked, in an effort to dissipate the elephant in the room. “Or some other food? Pizza? You look like shit, you should probably eat something greasy.”

“You went and bought the whole shop didn’t you?” he raised his eyebrow.

“I… did not. I was….. craving a lot of things.”

“You know, the only times you’ve bought so much food is when you’re sad about us fighting over something.”

“Well—I am sad,” you paused, “and we are fighting ... and this one seems to be the last one.”

“For now” he added and then immediately retracted his statement

“I’m...I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yugyeom... baby,”

When did you even get close enough to do that, he wondered, as you cupped his face.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you know?”

He put his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tender hug, because if he looked into your eyes any deeper he would have either kissed you or teared up; and neither was a good option to choose from.

“Noona will you promise me something?” he then asked, his words heavy and morose.

“Hmm?”

“Please try your best to forget me.”

You weren’t expecting that sentence to knock the wind out of your lungs, because you weren’t expecting to hear that sentence at all.

You broke away from him, tears accumulating against your will.

“Did you come here to hurt me, Yugyeom?”

It felt like a sword was now ominously hung above your head, when you looked at him; and it could fall at any moment and sever your head.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I just…. I don’t know. Don’t hold onto some irrational hope or something. That’s all I meant.”

“Irrational hope? Really, of what? Getting back together someday? You wanna get rid of me and move on so fast that you want me to forget you? Is that it?”

“Don’t twist my words. That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“You think I don’t understand that this is the end for us?”

“Just ... leave it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah you shouldn’t have.”

“But I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back in London. That’s all.” He yielded, not wanting to make matters any worse.

“You know what…. I was wrong to think it would be a good idea to pretend like nothing’s changed until I get on the plane. You win.”

The anger in your tone and your deadpan face made it very clear that you were not interested in holding a conversation about this, any further. “I’m gonna go start collecting my stuff. I should be out of your apartment and your life, by tomorrow evening.”

Before Yugyeom could react, you slammed the bedroom door shut and locked yourself inside.

One second later he was banging on the door frantically.

“Noona! Come on, open the door please.

Please, baby!”

He must have stood there trying to rotate the knob, begging you to let him inside, for at least fifteen minutes before giving up and sliding onto the floor.

This was turning out to be worse than his worst nightmare.

If he knew you at all, he knew you would want to come out to smoke soon. So he sat by the door, getting annoyed at himself for saying that and at you for taking it out of context.

Before coming here, he’d asked for Jinyoung’s opinion on whether this was a good idea or not; and Jinyoung had replied asking him to not do anything foolish. He had assumed Jinyoung meant going to his house to meet you was the foolish act. Dejectedly, he typed a text.

Yugyeom: Well…. I should have listened to you. I went to see her and you were right, it was a bad idea.

Jinyoung: when did I say that was a bad idea?

Yugyeom: you said not to do anything stupid

Jinyoung: yeah, I meant don’t go there and mess it up. I didn’t mean don’t go there at all. What did you do?

Yugyeom: oh…. nothing.

Jinyoung: I can call her and ask.

Yugyeom: No! Fuck. please don’t do that. She’s already pissed at me.

Jinyoung: what did you do

Yugyeom: I asked her to move on

Jinyoung: huh?

Yugyeom: I don’t want her to get hung up on me and us and the maybes and what ifs when she's there. Because I know she will.

Jinyoung: and what about you? Are you going to try your best to forget her?

Yugyeom paused and stared at that question for a few minutes. No…. of course not, how could he want to forget you or anything about you. Even if every memory attached to you dug into his organs like shards of glass, he’d gladly take them all to his grave.

Yugyeom: she doesn’t need to know if I do it or not.

Jinyoung: I’m glad God gave you the gift of dance because clearly intelligence and common sense are completely lost on you.

Yugyeom: hyung i'm really not in the mood to be insulted right now.

Jinyoung: Jackson asked you to drop your tough guy act didn’t he? She doesn’t need you to protect her. She’s never needed anyone to protect her from anything. You should stop trying to save her from whatever it is that you think you’re saving her from.

Yugyeom: I’m not trying to do anything. I don’t want her to regret going to London.

Jinyoung: How is asking to forget you a solution to that? Say hypothetically she does forget you. In a years time she doesn’t give a fuck about what you meant to her. She meets someone else and starts dating, maybe even gets engaged. Would that make you happy?

Yugyeom: No. But she’ll be happy.

Jinyoung: that’s your problem. You’re assuming that forgetting you and finding a new life would make her happy.

Yugyeom: Well won’t it? Idk I just don’t want her to be hung up on us and if she gets stuck on it, I don’t think she will be.

Jinyoung: You just said you don’t wanna move on so then why the fuck are you forcing it on her?

Yugyeom: hyung she doesn’t need to know how miserable I am. Without knowing that whenever she sees me she apologises to me. if she gets to know how much I want her to stay I’m scared she’ll turn down the promotion. She’s already thought about not going.

Jinyoung: let her make her own decisions? Right now you’re lying to her. I’m 95% sure she’s pissed because you’re trying to act unfazed by all of this.

Jinyoung: Just this one time, try to not bottle up how you’re feeling.

Jinyoung: tell her you have no interest in moving on. Be honest, man.

Jinyoung: and just saying, asking the ‘love of your life’, who calls you ‘the love of her life’, to forget you after 12 hours of breaking up is a shitty thing to do. She should have kicked you in the balls.

He typed up a stingy reply to that but, before he could send it, the sound of you unbolting the door from inside distracted him. Hurriedly, he stood up, to catch hold of you.

“Yugyeom, leave me alone. You got what you wanted?”, you spoke frostily.

“Are you going to smoke?”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.. But I wish you’d hear me out. Let me say my piece and if you’re still pissed, I’ll leave. I promise.”

After opening the window sill and lighting your cigarette, you waited for him to start. Your face was red and hurting from crying so incessantly, but you were determined to not let your emotions get the best of you, in front of him. At least, not right now.

“When I asked you to forget me, I didn’t mean… you know, erase me from your memory or whatever. I meant give yourself a proper chance at happiness, when you’re there.”

You gave him no expressions.

“Like… I’m not dying to move on. This is killing me. I don't want us to come to an end. I even thought of giving long distance another shot… or like you know….maybe just keep in touch. But every time I thought about it, it was too painful. So I couldn’t ask you to do that because I…. didn’t wanna do that.”

Saying that out loud made him realise how selfish he sounded. He continued his monologue when you wordlessly stood still and puffed away.

“I wanted to pretend like this isn’t hurting me, but I’m so miserable, noona. I don’t know how to live without you. I don’t even want to know how to live without you. But, I want you to live your life without me; which is hypocritical, I guess, but that’s why I asked you to forget me.”

“That’s really fucking unfair.” you interrupted. “You’re planning things for me without asking what I want. That’s not how it works. If I want to move on or not, is my decision. If I want to be miserable over you or not, is my decision. If I want to live my best life in London or not, again, is my decision. I have never loved anyone like I’ve loved you, Yugyeom; so what you asked of me was just cruel. I know I want to live in a fantasy until I have no option but to accept the outcome. I know it’s not a good way to deal with things. How could you even think that forgetting you would ever be an option?

“I’m sorry” he pursed his lips and looked at the floor.

“When I said we have five more days, I wanted to play pretend. I was just trying to live in this denial bit longer.

“Then… can I live in that denial with you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I gotta pack and hand over the house to the owner by tomorrow.”

“I’m sure the owner will understand if you’re delayed by a day or two or four.”

“I’m tired of running around in circles with you man”, you sighed. “No matter how this turns out, I will never not love you. Maybe in ten years time you’ll be with some other girl and I’ll be with some other dude, even then I will probably, in some capacity, still love you. And I get it if you don’t want to feel the same way, you don’t have to. But don’t ask me not to.”

“Thinking about you with someone else really fucking hurts.” he admitted, feeling a knot tighten in his throat.

“It hurts me too but you’re the one so fucking adamant about moving on like it’s gonna happen in 2 days.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Yeah, of course... but I can let it slide if you promise to forget about me.”

“Haha very funny.”

You chuckled and he wasted no time in giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“The only thing I can promise you is that I’ll love you till I die.”

“No one is dying, baby.”

“Without you, I just might.”

“Jaebeom won’t let that happen, you’re the second reason his studio has clients.”

“What’s the first?”

“Jaebeom, obviously.”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at you. “He’s going to have to be the only reason, till next week because I’m stuck to you till you get on that plane.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting you leave that room for the next 100 hours, starting now.”

He didn’t give you much time to process his words, as he picked you up to take you into the bedroom. You tried to fake-protest to the best of your capabilities, but truth be told there was no better feeling than hiding your face in the crook of his neck; while he effortlessly carried you in.

Making his intentions for the night perfectly clear, he took off his shirt.

“Wait-wait-wait!” you yelped, pinned under his lithe form. “All the food is on the table, I'll be damned if that Tiramisu goes to waste. I’ll be back in five.”

“Make it three.”

“Okay baby.”

Then you kissed him on the nose and ran out.

Since your last reconciliation, you'd spent most of your time in bed, mostly without clothes, wrapped in Yugyeom’s arms; savouring every kiss, every touch, trying to save these ending moments in your memory, so you could replay them over and over again at the end of this week when all this would inevitably be over. Your departure was three days away and the fact that you were still unpacked was beginning to weigh down on you heavily. You were at a point where you couldn’t really avoid it any more; even though it was antithetical to the denial you’d built your cozy house in.

As much anxiety you had regarding leaving and not wanting to deal with that, there was an equal amount of anxiety related to not being prepared ahead of time. It was a lose-lose situation either way, with consequences that weren’t susceptible to change. So, you decided to rip the bandaid completely, to avoid running around like a headless chicken at the last minute.

You didn’t have to deal with the furniture, at least, because even though some of it was bought together, Yugyeom owned the apartment. You just had to sort through your clothes and products.

He wasn't the most excited at the thought of seeing you empty out the house.

“Do you know your living situation in London?” he asked, trying to hold up a conversation.

“Yeah…they’re giving me a furnished apartment as part of the deal.”

“Wait no rent?”

“Uh-huh”

“Woah that’s amazing.” The lack of excitement completely contradicted his statement. “And who’s gonna help you set up and stuff? Won’t you need help?”

“Uhm... mum’s already gonna be there when I land. Not at the apartment, obviously, but…. in London.”

“Aah. Ok ok. It’ll be good, you haven’t seen your parents in a long time”

“Hmm I guess.”

“And your visas and shit?”

“Yeah my passport’s with the company, they’ll sort it all out and hand it to me on the day of the flight.”A

Yugyeom felt like he’d accidentally stepped on an emotional land mine.

He was already gutted about seeing his closet empty, and now hearing your monotone voice just upset him even further. But he didn’t want to show how sad this was making him either, because then you would probably cry.

It was really frustrating.

He quickly made up an excuse to leave for a bit. “Is it okay if I go to the studio, Jaebeom hyung needs me to sort through some assessments. But if you need me to stay, I’ll tell him something.”

”No, it’s okay. I have to face time Ishi anyway. I haven't spoken to her in a hot minute. And Jae has been more than patient this past week. I’ll try to be done soon too. It’ll probably take me 4-5 hours.”

Oh.

“I’ll definitely be back by then.”

“Or… maybe I can meet you at the station and we can go to Naksan?”

He gave you an affirmative forced grin, kissed you on the forehead and headed to the studio to redirect all the aggression he was so suddenly full of.

Just knowing that you’d be leaving a giant gaping hole in his life, was driving him nuts. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up his end of the bargain any longer. You at least would get to start over a new life, in a new place with new faces. But he was going to have to pick up pieces of his life that he knew you were about to leave behind shattered; and never look back at

Your fragrance lingered in every corner of his apartment. His bathroom smelt like your shampoo, his closet smelt like your body spray and cigarettes, his bed.… how was he ever going to exorcise your memories out of his bed? His king size bed that had not seen a dip on the right side up until you had waltzed into his life. Everything was going to remind him of you. His favourite restaurants, clubs, hideaways—it was overwhelming him.

“Aah fuck” he mumbled to himself, absent-mindedly walking into the studio - much to Jaebeom’s surprise.

“I thought you weren’t coming in?”

“She’s packing. I’ll break something if I have to sit through it.”

“Don’t break anything here.”

“Maybe my bones.”

“The third room is empty.”

He was barely going to be able to concentrate on whatever choreography he was going to try, but he acknowledged Jaebeom and locked himself inside.

Jaebeom also felt rather incompetent to handle the situation, since he’d never seen this volatile and mostly upset side of Yugyeom. So he just let the kid do whatever he wanted to. No one knows what to do until you actually start doing it, right? Jinyoung would probably disapprove of this philosophy, but he wasn’t there to voice his objections, so too bad!

When dancing, Yugyeom barely ever understood the concept of time, so between choosing a song, researching some new styles, to mentally animating the possible formations, 4 hours flew by. He yelped and hurriedly ran to his phone, hoping he wasn’t already late.

You sighed heavily at the other end of the call “no... I’m still working through the pile. It’s probably going to take me two hours more.”

“It’ll be too dark to go to Naksan then.”

“Yeah…. I guess. Just come home?”

“It’ll take me some more time at the studio though.”

“That’s okay, take your time. It’s a mess here anyway.”

“Hmm… I’ll see you later then, noona.”

And he went back to focusing on perfecting the new moves, even harder than before, because otherwise your voice would keep ringing in his ears. He could hear how disheartened you already sounded and he wanted to be there for you, but he had to take care of his own feelings first, before he could take care of yours.

He didn’t know he could feel such a foul mood, but that’s what his days had recently been made of. All he’d done was get blackout drunk, fight and then fuck; this wasn’t a routine he recognised at all.

It was almost nine in the night when he entered the house, fully expecting to see you still having a rough time with a mountain of clothes next to you. Surprisingly, he found you passed out next to an empty cup of coffee.

He peeked inside the bedroom and his eyes immediately went to the two giant suitcases stacked in the corner and a cardboard box balanced on top of them.

His closet now housed his bare minimum collection of T-shirts and sweatpants and the bathroom was entirely stripped of its former glory. It was depressing. He took a quick shower and considered slumping onto the bed, knowing full well he should wake you up and make you eat something.

Who was going to feed you actual healthy food in London, with him not around? Because if you had it your way, you’d call a bag of chips dinner and call it a day.

He tried with everything he had, to not care about it and went back into the bedroom, fully determined to go to sleep. Perhaps it was his frustration towards the situation that was garnering such a petty reaction. But then he thought about it for five minutes more and felt like an absolute asshole. Why was he taking this out on you? It’s not like you deliberately caused it. It’s not even like he wanted you to stay for him.

He shook his head almost aggressively, as if trying to physically shake off the bad thoughts and went back out, to do what he actually should have done as soon as he came home.

You’d fallen asleep in the most haphazard position; your head resting on your arms on the kitchen island top, and your body stretched out on the chair. It didn’t look comfortable whatsoever.

He nudged you gently, “noona?”

You barely even stirred.

“Wake up, baby”. The butterflies he gave you, at such close proximity, made you open your eyes.

“What time is it?” you groaned, lifting your head the slightest bit.

“It’s almost 10.”

You did a little cat stretch. “Did you just get back?”

“No... it’s been a bit, I took a shower and everything”.

“Oh… okay. I was planning on taking a bath too” you trailed off, yawning through the rest of the sentence.

“I’ll make something for us till then.”he replied, thinking about what they could eat, but his chain of thought was disturbed by a phone call.

“Oh hyung, yo.” you heard him say. His energy seemed so low.

“Wait right now? I don’t know hyung.”

Inquisitively you tilted your head and he handed you the phone. The quota of patience he had for the day was very low.

You could see Jackson’s name on the screen and you greeted him accordingly.

“You wanna chill here?” You repeated, simultaneously gesturing to Yugyeom about his thoughts on the matter at hand.

He shrugged indecisively and you came to the realisation that you hadn’t actually thought of when you’d say your final goodbyes to Jackson, or in fact anyone else except for Yugyeom; so now seemed like as good a time as any.

“Yeah cool, how long will you take?”

With his patience running on thin ice, the man standing in front of you frowned, but you pretended to not notice it. Instead, you stretched and headed for the shower, avoiding his gaze. Yugyeom’s energy was all over the place and you were lowkey glad you wouldn’t have to deal with it by yourself.

You thought about planning your day tomorrow and meeting at least some of the people you cared about. What you hadn’t expected was Jackson bringing most of those people to you.

Half an hour after the phone call, your living room was at full capacity. It wasn’t even that many people honestly, just your usual hang-out group - a mixture of your and Yugyeom’s combined friend list, but your living room looked full.

Yugyeom was even more displeased than before, but managed to hide it by holding onto a bottle of beer, like it was crucial to his existence.

“He didn’t say he was coming with…. everyone.” You sheepishly expressed.

“It’s fine. At least you get to meet most of your friends.”

“Yeah I guess, i was just thinking about it.”

You get distracted by a hand on your shoulder, “thinking about what?” Bambam asked

“Meeting some people before leaving.” You repeated.

“Ooh depressing.”

“That’s one way to look at it.” You gave him a deadpan stare, unimpressed by his poor timing.

Yugyeom took the opportunity to wander off to his other friends, most of whom were gathered around the table of food, in front of the TV.

Some random nonsense movie was playing that Mark and his girlfriend were really invested in. He considered sitting next to them but he was not sure when they’d start making out, so he parked himself next to Jaebeom instead. His head was heavier in that moment than it had been in the morning, when he’d left. He couldn’t leave right now though, Jackson would beat his ass.

So he settled for eating silently and drinking slowly, in his little corner.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep up a brave face. Jackson had already repeated himself at least thrice, saying how much he was going to miss you and it was getting more and more difficult to hold your tears.

Taking a large gulp of the wine you had in your hand, you told him you were going to miss him a lot too and gave him a partial hug.

There was no scope of hiding from the reality of the situation anymore.

Two days later no one in this room was going to physically be a part of your life. Just two days. All you wanted to do was find Yugyeom and bury your head in his chest, like the ostrich that you were.

You took in some really deep breaths and poured yourself more booze, in the hopes of turning it around and becoming chipper.

Inevitability should be accepted or else life begins to feel like a drag…. no?

Alcohol made it a lot easier for you to bury the sadness that came with your unofficial ‘bon voyage’ celebration. A part of you was also suddenly scared to approach Yugyeom. You studied his face carefully, discreetly, while seated on the couch. Get togethers usually made him hyper, yet here he was looking into his phone like he was studying for a phd degree.

Even though there was an overwhelming urge to go and talk to him, you decided against it. If he wasn’t feeling some type of way, he would not have isolated himself like that and you knew you were partially to blame for it

You indulged in more cocktails, talked to your friends and somewhere in the middle of all this chatter, Jackson, for the nth time commenced a relay of toasts addressed to you. Really on brand of him to talk about his feelings like that but because you were caught so off-guard you started crying.You weren’t prepared for this kind of emotional haranguing.

Yugyeom hated every minute of it. He didn’t want to hear over and over again that you were leaving, or see you cry. He should have declined Jackson’s proposition when he had the chance to, but now he had to deal with long speeches almost all of which included him too. He felt his lungs constrict like he was about to drown. Jaebeom gave him a comforting pat on the back and passed him a new bottle of soju.

From time to time he looked at you but avoided eye contact. He knew he should have been next to you, hugging and comforting you, he just couldn’t bring himself upto the task. It was that same resentment he had felt earlier today that made him respond in this fashion. All he wanted was this night to end and for everyone to leave. But then again, maybe this was better because he didn’t have to be alone with you.

You cried for a good hour while everyone told you they were going to miss you. There were long hugs and accelerating levels of inebriation involved. You promised to text everyone back because at that moment you had no proper words to say and you wanted to tell them all so much.

By the time you crossed your threshold of tipsy to near blackout drunk, it was almost daybreak. The sun was just beginning to peek at you from behind the mountains.

Yugyeom was in a worse shape than you, so Jackson and Jinyoung decided to clean up a bit, as your parting gift; trying to rope in Bambam in.

“No way. I know what’s coming after she leaves. I deserve a break before donning my emotional clean up crew role.”

“Don’t lie, you’re both just going to drink.”

“Yes and drown him in his sorrows. This is how you clean out emotions. He’s gonna drink and cry.”

“That’s the worst way to deal with anything.” Jackson rolled his eyes

“Hyung…. you work out and write music, he drinks and dances. It’s not really all that different.”

“It’s not the same either though. If I feel something I don’t carry it with me. All he does is let it eat him until he forgets it or explodes.”

Can you debate about this later and help me carry him to the bedroom?” Jaebeom interrupted.

Jackson handed the empty bottles to Jinyoung and got to the task of shifting Yugyeom’s large body from the couch.

“Just him?” Bambam asked

“I already tucked her in,” Jaebeom replied. “We should get out of here soon.”

“Yeah, I still have to go to work. Can’t believe Youngjae and Mark left me alone.” Jinyoung complained, trying to make as little noise as possible while trashing the garbage.

With a lot of difficulty, Jackson was able to plonk Yugyeom on the bed. Jaebeom studied you both before heaving a sigh. The peaceful look on your faces was not an accurate testament to your respective behaviours prior to passing out. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He kept a trash bag and a bottle of water each near your nightstands before leaving.

At least he could hope that when you wake up, you’d feel better.

... You didn’t.

The splitting headache you were experiencing was really on another level when combined with your sandpaper mouth. Thankfully things were conveniently placed around you because if you had to walk to the kitchen to drink water right now you'd rather die of thirst than get up. Your attention turned to the man next to you, his porcelain skin tempting you to kiss him or at least stroke his face, but you resisted.

You finished the whole bottle and gently lowered yourself back into the bed, lying awake with throbbing pains radiating from various places.

Yugyeom made a cute sound in his sleep, making your heart jump. It was nearly impossible to not want to scoot closer to him. He hadn’t given you a hug in all of twenty four hours and you were already about to lose your mind.

How you were going to survive without him was really beyond your comprehension.

You just lightly touched your fingers to his palm and closed your eyes, hoping you’d fall back to sleep. The next thing you knew he had one arm around you and was pulling you into his chest; aligning his body with yours. His soft breaths landing on the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Feeling okay?” He asked in his hoarse, morning voice.

“Hmm…”

You could feel his lips moving against your skin as he spoke, making you melt in his embrace. Your heartbeat accelerated and he held onto you even tighter.

Melancholy hung in the air, much like Christmas decorations in December; he could feel it. Your legs intertwined and he heard a faint sob.

There was nothing he could say that would change the atmosphere. It was time to burst the bubble, so he let you cry, and he cried too.

Head buried in your back, he whispered, “noona…. please will you leave a hoodie of yours with me?”

You nodded and kissed his hand.

“I love you.” He said and the both of you went back to sleep.

It was almost evening when he finally woke up. You weren’t in bed anymore, his head was hammering to a tune of it’s own, in spite of having medicated in the morning, and his body was craving water. Staggering, he made his way to the kitchen and found you in a semi-messy situation with cooking paraphernalia all over the counter.

“Oh? What is happening here”. It sounded like he was concerned but he was really only a bit confused.

“making some sandwiches.”

“Suddenly? Why? We could have just ordered.”

“Yeaaah I don’t know, just felt like it.”

He smiled, because you looked so cute in that apron. His mood was foul but looking at you made it better. He chugged some water while you emptied the pan and he was overcome with the urge to hug you.

You were caught off-guard when he put his arms around you, but you reciprocated his gesture. It was difficult for you to look him in the eyes because you weren’t sure if, for the hundredth time, you'd end up crying. He cupped your face and nudged you to see him, the sincerity in his face…. all the love he wanted to shower you with right then.

He kissed you slowly, taking his time to taste the light traces of your strawberry lip balm. You didn'’t know what spells he used to get you turned on so fast. Threading your fingers with his hair, you deepen the kiss. The urgency that took over him was maddening. He wanted you right now, which he made abundantly clear when he slipped his left hand under your T-shirt and began caressing your boobs; his other hand gripping your hair and pulling it sharply.

There was air caught up in your lungs as he kissed your neck, like you’d temporarily forgotten how to breathe. Low moans began to escape your lips and you squeezed your thighs together. You were so wet, just with his mildly aggressive kisses.

He knew what he was doing to you when he felt your lower body clench and both his hands slid back down to grab your butt.

The kiss got sloppier as your focus dwindled to his boner, your fingers already caressing it over his sweatpants. He bit your lip in response, pushed you against the kitchen island and aimed to remove your clothes. You were still in your flannel and shorts from the night before, so he fumbled a bit on the buttons. His accuracy was failing him because you weren't stroking him over the sweatpants anymore; he could feel your hand sliding over his skin, purposefully slow and tender. His eyes were barely open, your lips were still locked and he was trying to get you naked without actually seeing what he was doing. He grunted helplessly when you touched the tip of his cock. Wet sounds of you stroking his length, mixed in with his shallow breaths and moans, filled the kitchen.

He nibbled on your neck, as your movements accelerated. With your non-dominant hand you tried your best to remove his sweatpants, but he stopped you.

“Turn around.” He whispered, pulling your hand away. The way he seduced you with his demanding voice and bedroom eyes, you gave in without a fight. You bucked your hips and grabbed the closest edge of the marble top. He bit your neck, gently sucking at the skin caught between his lips, until it looked bruised and then he moved on further down, while dry humping your ass, one hand firmly placed on your waist. A small gasp escaped your lips when his fingers slipped inside your panties. Automatically, you spread your legs wide, to let him access the delicate parts.

He could smell your shampoo mixed in with your intoxicating scent and it was sending him over the moon as he played with your wet and sensitive clit.

“Good girl” he praised, when you pushed your ass further into his boner, craving to feel it bare.

You hummed, his thin and long fingers dancing to the tune of your arousal. He fingered you slowly and deliberately, and it was excruciating.

It was the last time he was going to get to feel you. Tomorrow you'd be gone. It made him angry and sad. It made him desperate.

You could feel his aggression in the way his lips collided onto yours with force, the way his nails dug into your skin, the way his body was stiff and wrapped around you in a solid cage.

His hold on you tightened and he spun you around again, to face him. He wanted to make sure you never forgot how he made you feel; so that no other man would ever be enough for you because he set that bar up so high. He wanted to spoil the idea of being pleased again by anyone else, for you. Maybe it was toxic to think that way, but he was already letting go of you.

He had no choice but to let go of you. The train of thought he'd gotten on made his brain short circuit and switch off. He wasn't aroused anymore and everything was blurry and confusing. Before he could stop himself, he took a step back.

“Don't leave me, noona.” He said in a small voice, looking at the floor.

The words crash on you like a violent wave.

You wished he'd stayed looking at the tiles, because when he looked up, you felt the guilt of having accidentally run over a puppy. There was sadness and shame and anger and you didn't know which emotion to address first.

“Yugs….”

So many words swirled in your brain but your lips were sewn shut.

“So, I guess that's a no.”

“What are you trying to do, Yugyeom?”

“Oh well, It was worth a try.” He chuckled, rather bitterly.

What else was he expecting would happen.

Life is not a movie scene; the girl doesn't quit on her career for the boy, in real life. But was it valid for him to feel the sting that persistently worsened as you two stood opposite each other uncomfortably? He knew this was going to happen. He chose it with you. Hell, he chose it for you even. While he was trying to rationalise his own resentments, you straightened yourself up and started putting the buttons of your shirt back in place.

“I don't know what you want to hear from me, Yugs. You know I don't want to leave you. And you don't want to come with me.”

Shit, that stung him even more.

“I have to leave for the airport in 12 hours so do we have to be like this?” You asked defeatedly.

He shook his head and you extended your arms, waiting for him to fall into them.

“I'm really sorry we have to end this way.”

In his experience, there was no safer feeling than being held by you, but right now it was the root cause of all the knives ruthlessly jammed in his chest.

Nonetheless, he hugged you and exhaled pure agony.

“I'm gonna go take a shower. Maybe afterwards, if you feel like it, we can go get some drinks?” You asked cautiously.

“Yeah… I’d like that” he lied, as he let go. Truth be told, he couldn't look past the multiple ‘last times’ anymore. The last time he could hug you, the last time he could fuck you, the last time he could hear your voice… he couldn't do any of it. He didn't want to do any of it. He didn't want this for the last time. He heard you close the door to the bathroom and started fixing his appearance however he could, grabbed his wallet and phone and headed out. If he stayed in that house for a second more he felt he'd choke and die. He was trying to run away from the toxic fumes his own thoughts were emitting, and there was nowhere to hide from them, so he tried to leave them behind.

His brisk walk turned into a sprint and then he ran as fast as he could towards the subway station. And just like that he vanished into the sea of anonymity, nowhere to be found.

Four hours had gone by since you'd come out of your shower to a deserted house and a singular message from Yugyeom. “Sorry noona, I can't do this.”

it felt like a cruel déjà vu.

His phone wasn't reachable. Bambam had no idea, neither did Jaebeom. You were much too confused to react in any appropriate manner.

“He left” You said to Jaebeom, who was equally confused and infuriated.

It seemed like you'd already connected the dots as to Yugyeom’s unavailability but a part of you was holding onto some hope.

“I'm sure he's gonna show up dude.”

“I have to leave in like 3 more hours. He wouldn't have left if he planned to show up.”

“He's definitely not at Bam’s?”

“Jae…. unless I was being lied to, he's not there. And i don't think Bam has any reason to do that.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.”

“Yeah” you sighed.

You were neither angry, nor sad and you had good reason to experience both those emotions at once, but the way your brain had switched itself to autopilot, everything had just become a matter of necessity.

You tried Yugyeom’s number once again, and weren't even surprised anymore when you heard the automated switched off message.

While scanning the room your eyes fell upon your suitcases and your heart dropped 6 feet further than where it was already at.

You had to leave soon.

The silence had already been gnawing at your sanity, now it was overpowering guilt because if you had just said no, none of this would have happened. If you had just said no to the promotion. If you had tried harder for Seoul. If you had chosen to stay when Yugyeom asked you to, then the chain of events would have been different. Maybe, if he'd not run away from this whole situation you could have figured out a solution. But he wasn't here and you were running out of time.

A high pitched buzzer cut through the atmosphere, giving you a jump scare. For a second you thought maybe it was Yugyeom, but why would he need to ring the bell.

You saw Jackson's silhouette in the little alarm system by the door and sighed.

“You look so unhappy to see me.” He huffed, when you greeted him dryly.

“Gee Jackson, sorry I'm upset about Yugyeom literally bailing on me when I have to leave in an hour.”

“Wait what? He's not back?”

“No…..i don't know where he is.”

“And he's still not answering?”

“I tried about 50 times, it's off. Anyway, how come you're here?”

It was comical how distraught you were internally and how inept you were at translating your emotions externally. The way you were talking, no one would think you were in this sad sad situation of leaving your life behind to start a new one.

“You don't remember asking me to drop you off?”

“Was I drunk?”

“Well…. tipsy maybe?”

“I was definitely drunk. I don't remember any of it. But, I'm glad you're here.”

“Are you…. packed?”

“Yeah, I just got the last batch of clothes I need to shove in.”

“Cool. You have anything to eat?”

“I made some sandwiches in the evening. Have at it.”

You were trying your best to be normal. A few minutes later Bambam and Jaebeom arrived as well, both without any worthwhile news of Yugyeom.

“I'm gonna kill him when I see him.” Jaebeom raged.”this is very childish.”

“It's fine man…. i know why he just vanished. It's okay. I'm not mad.”

“Bro are you…. Hearing yourself?”

“Very clearly. He was never good with confrontational emotions. He didn't want to see me leave so he left. It's not rocket science.”

“You went through your stages of grief really fast with this one.”

“I didn't have an option.” you looked at the three of them sitting around you “So…. are all of you taking me to the airport?”

“Yeah, duh.” Bambam countered.

“Okay then wait for me in the car, I need to say bye to the house.”

“And you can't do that in front of us?”

“Would you rather get uncomfortable watching me cry?”

Honestly, you were just prolonging it, the actual act of leaving. You felt so heavy when Jaebeom rolled your suitcases out. In passing you looked at your two favourite hoodies you'd left on the bed and it took everything out of you to not have an emotional breakdown right at that moment.

It was difficult, leaving was difficult especially without Yugyeom. You were in denial of your feelings but you were so angry at him but also so sorry towards him, your emotions kept cancelling each other out. You just wanted to hug him one last time and get the closure you were hoping to get but he took that option away from you. In your three year relationship, this was maybe the most cruel he’d ever been with you. But it was over now. This chapter was done, even with all of its loose ends.

You took your time saying your final byes to three of the most important people you'd met in Seoul. It was quite impressive that you didn't burst out in tears, even when Bam and Jae almost did. There was a part of you that was distracted by a hope that he'd be at the airport to see you off. When he wasn't at the main gates, you hoped he'd be there at check-in. While walking towards your departure gate you kept an eye out, hoping to catch a glimpse of his smile. You just wanted to say goodbye. But he never came. You sat glued to your spot, because what if he did try to find you and you weren't there. You boarded your flight at the very end. You gave an imaginary him all the imaginary chances you could, to materialise and tie a neat ribbon around your life in Seoul.

But your flight took off and the last shred of hope you had snapped and so did you.

Because life isn't a movie. Just like the girl doesn't leave her career, the boy doesn't run through the airport either.

#got7 #yugy #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom smut #got7creators #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom fanfiction

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clairecrive · 4 years

Text

“More” - Tommy Conlon x reader

Send me a character and a number and I’ll write something based on the song that comes on shuffle. Soo, this wasn’t supposed to be a full imagine and that’s also why it took me so long to post it. I have other requests and this was supposed to be something short and fun but it turned out to be long and fluffy and I’m not even mad about it. I know I’ve been kinda absent this week so I’ll try and double update today and post tomorrow as well.

Please be patient with me, I’m trying my best, I just need to find a new balance between this blog, online lessons and my life basically.

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye @mollybegger-blog @br0ck-eddie @shadow-of-wonder @fandom--0verdose @innerpaperexpertcloud @evelynshelby (let me know if you wanna be added)

Song: "More" by 5sos

"And all the things that we dream about

They don't mean what they did before

I just wanna get back to us

'Cause we used to have more"

Tommy Conlon was sitting in front of you looking like a shell of himself but at the same time just like the guy you remembered. He had always been bulky and fit thanks to his strict regime both in the gym and in the kitchen. Being in prison for a while surely contributed to it seeing as there wasn't much you could do in the confinement of a cell or much you could eat for the unsavory food they gave him. If it was possible, his muscles were even bigger than the last time you had seen him and for a moment you wondered if he had his clothes especially made. However, knowing Tommy you immediately dismissed the thought.

If his appearance had only slightly changed, the thing that struck you the most was the look in his eyes. Ever the silent and reserved guy, Tommy had never been one of many words but he was always able to convey any message or emotion through his eyes. Because of his troubled past, his eyes were always troubled and unfocused on the matter at hand, too busy worrying about his family situation. Now, the look behind his eyes was steadier and more focused. You had the feeling that when he looked at you he didn't see the ghost of his mother or whatever was troubling him but he was finally seeing you. It didn't matter that you were just catching up talking about everything and anything, you could tell that he was taking in every word you were saying. He was here with you in this moment and that made you even happier than seeing him after such a long time. Because that meant that he had somehow tamed the demons of his past and was finally living his life a little lighter.

You and Tommy went way back. You were aware of his past, both with his family and the marines. You had always been by his side, trying to lighten his days and to share the baggage he had with him since childhood but to no avail. You understood that it was something deeply personal that he had to deal with himself and on his own terms but it didn't hurt any less the realization that what you did wasn't enough and that he had to leave. Your 12 years old self didn't understand that and took it too personally that she had to when it had nothing to do with you.

This wasn't the first time you had seen Tommy after your shared childhood and early teen years. Somehow, you were both at the same time and place once and the universe did the trick. It had been ten years since the last time you saw him and right then and there you didn't recognize him. He was a totally different person than from the young boy you knew. You, however, hadn't changed that much and Tommy immediately connected your face to one of the few people of his old life, he didn't despise. Since that day, you had pretty much been inseparable. Of course, you both had your schedules and routines by then but you both worked to get them to fit with one another and soon you were basically living together.

While you were studying during the day Tommy would spend his mornings at the gym. Afternoons were rarely spent together, you would be working and Tommy too. Evenings were your shared time. Without fail, you would meet and spend time together, be it sharing a meal or doing other activities. It was as if those ten years had never passed and you soon found that balance that had made your bond special. However, Tommy had his burden and no matter what you did, you couldn't help him. There were things that we have to deal with alone and Tommy wasn't there yet at that time. He was angry, at everything and everyone, and while that was great for it fuel him for his matches, it didn't help him deal with his everyday life in a peaceful way. There was nothing peaceful about him in those days. It wasn't as if he got you stuck with or he treated you badly. It's just that he fell into unhealthy and toxic routines and habits that of course, took their toll on you too. You had never really talked about your relationship, you didn't really label it but you cared about it. Hell, you even admitted to your self and him that you loved him. You did. But unfortunately for both of you, love wasn't enough to get him out of that dark circle.

So you left him. Even though it didn't happen in the best of circumstances and you certainly didn't keep in touch afterwards, you always associated Tommy with your happiest memories and you were certain that he didn't resent you for your decision either. As you couldn't blame him for what happened to him that screwed him over, he also couldn't fault you for deciding to call him out on his bullshit and take a step back when it all became too much to bear.

Then Sparta happened and your heart broke as well as Tommy's shoulder during the finale and even more so when you learned about what was going to happen to him after the competition was over. You tried to stay updated while he was on trial but after he was sentenced you kinda got lost in your everyday life. The thought of visiting him had once passed your mind, but why would you? I mean yes, you still loved him and cared about him but you hadn't spoken nor seen him in forever so how were you going to just pop up one day in prison? Who told you that he even wanted to see you?

No one did and so you didn't. Tommy had never really left your heart nor your mind but it was easy to push it back and focus on your career, immersing yourself in work had always proved to be successful in making you so tired that by the time you got home you didn't know how to do 2+2.

You could swear that not even a year had gone by after Tommy had been sentenced to prison but when he reached to you, one day out of the blue, you soon was met to the harsh reality that almost two years had gone by, marking almost four years since you broke up.

That was a lot of time and a lot of things had changed, but you'd be fooling nobody if you said that your eyes didn't sparkle as they used to, when they saw the familiar silhouette waiting for you at the bar you'd picked.

"It's so nice seeing you out and about, Tommy. You seem like you're doing fine." In those two years, Tommy had managed to deal not only with prison but also got himself into therapy when he got out. He had started a couple of months back and it really was showing. His gloomy appearance was a thing of the past and now there was only room for funny and carefree Tommy. Well, that was not to say that he put it all behind him but he certainly had it under control now and you couldn't help but admire him with pride and affection.

"I've put it off long enough. It's time." He modestly confessed with a little smile that you couldn't help but mirror. Neither of you added anything, just stared at one another. So much had happened between you that it seemed pointless now to indulge in trivial chit chat. While you took a sip of your lukewarm tea, he cleared his throat and reached for you the hand that wasn't holding the cup.

"I've been meaning to call you for a while actually, but I... couldn't find the courage." He timidly started.

"Is that so?" You curiously ask, tightening your hold on his hand.

"I thought that I was the last person you'd want to see after what happened. I was surprised actually that you said yes to this meeting."

"Oh Tommy," you said taking his other hand in yours too, " you know that I've never blamed for what happened. Maybe we were simply not meant to be." Grudgingly you admitted while forcing the sour tone away from your words.

"You know that I've never believed in that fate shit and now I'm ever more convinced that it's indeed a load of bullshit?" he asked shuffling on his chair, " Because I'm in a point in my life where I finally have it under control, you know? So I guess you could say that I have everything that I've ever wished for, right?" He waited just a moment to let his words sink in, "And you couldn't be more wrong. All I want is just to get back to us." He delivered the last blow as he slowly met your confused gaze.

God knows how many nights you had dreamed about this very moment. But you were confused. Was he really saying that he also harbored the same feelings you had for him after all this time? Wasn't it all doomed from the start? You had tried before and it didn't work out. Would you be willing to put yourself through the possibility of a heartbreak?

"I can see the wheels spinning behind your eyes. I know you too well, Y/N." He stopped your thoughts' route, "Don't do this, 'right?"

"Just tell me something: do you still feel something for me?"

"Of course I do, Tommy. But-"

"No, not buts y/n, please," he interrupted you mid-sentence, "I know that you have reservations, and rightly so. But please, trust me when I say that I'm not the one that I used to be. Things are going to be different, I swear to you." His promise paired with his earnest glaze was a lethal mix, one you couldn't resist.

Taking another look at him, you realized that he was right. He was going to therapy and he seemed to be doing alright already, you thought. There were two obvious possible endings for this: it could all to pieces again and at least you could always say that you'd tried or, if everything went well, you could be the happiest you've ever been. This last possibility was so appealing that it exceeded the other by a long way. You had your job cut out for you, really.

"Let's get out of here."

#tommy conlon #tommy riordan #tommy conlon x reader #tommy conlon imagine #tommy conlon imagines #tommy x reader #warrior #tommy conlon one shot #Tom Hardy #tom hardy imagines #tom hardy x reader

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