#bc just hearing this song knowing everything that's going to happen was nearly enough to make me cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seeingivy · 8 months

Text

the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you.

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song.

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it.

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions.

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show.

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating.

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?”

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-”

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?”

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-”

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.”

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?”

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now.

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.”

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together.

“Hi Con.”

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?”

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-”

“Not her.” Eren whispers.

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.”

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk.

Could always get you to talk.

“You tried Levi?”

“Yes.”

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ”

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.”

“Connie?”

“Yeah?”

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed.

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.”

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.”

“Yeah man. Sure.”

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren.

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom.

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time.

“What?”

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video.

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for.

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times.

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side.

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well.

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?”

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke.

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.”

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.”

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head.

“You know, you still do that.”

“Do what?”

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.”

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after.

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?”

“Perfect. Wear this one.”

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.”

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf.

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress.

“Love?”

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door.

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.”

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin.

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.”

“Oh? Really?”

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on.

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.”

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.”

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.”

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.”

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding.

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.”

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.”

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“What was that for?”

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers.

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page.

“Okay, Eren. Good?”

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you.

“Eren.”

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more.

“It should be illegal-”

Kiss.

“To look like this.”

Kiss.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

Kiss.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.”

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.”

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.”

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once.

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers.

“You said my name.”

“I say your name all the time.”

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.”

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?”

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face.

“I like how you say it. Y/N.”

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.”

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face.

“What’s that?”

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.”

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back.

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.”

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur.

“Huh?”

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice.

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks.

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?”

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine.

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?”

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.”

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips.

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?”

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-”

“Too bad.”

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after.

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back.

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?”

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.”

“What’s the song called, Y/N?”

“Dress.”

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss.

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach.

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.”

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.”

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.”

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out.

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you.

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better.

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky.

“Hey.”

“How many?”

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him.

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face.

“Ricky.”

“Yes, babe?”

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?”

“For fun! You smell really good.”

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward.

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later.

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror.

“Baby’s first Met Gala!”

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says.

“For?”

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.”

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh.

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically.

“What flavor is the cupcake?”

“Chocolate.”

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger.

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.”

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.”

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.”

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast.

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.”

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-”

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for.

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event.

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books.

You’ll take a win where you can get one.

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated.

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it.

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support.

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls.

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts.

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.”

“And if Lana comes up to me?”

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.”

“And if Eren comes up to me?”

“I’ll give you a big kiss.”

“Ew. Don’t do that.”

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.”

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder.

Are you and Ricky official?

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N?

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons?

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night.

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile.

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.”

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?”

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at.

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces.

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after.

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him.

“Oh god.”

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond.

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.”

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.”

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.”

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.”

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side.

“Oh?”

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek.

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers.

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you! So do you.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?”

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.”

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?”

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera.

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.”

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond.

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink.

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?”

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny.

“I think it’s flattering.”

“Really?”

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you.

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.”

“Ricky.”

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.”

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink.

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning.

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling.

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern.

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?”

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on.

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet.

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue.

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it.

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto.

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.”

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth.

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet.

You nudge Megumi in the side.

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?”

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group.

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.”

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison.

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond.

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds.

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.”

“He did.” they all respond in unison.

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side.

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice.

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch.

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song.

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response.

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.”

“Very good friends.” you respond.

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away.

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.”

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time.

“What’s your problem?”

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.”

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.”

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.”

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room.

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear.

“Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.”

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.”

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands.

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down.

“What do you want, doll?”

“Nothing. I got bored.”

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka.

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.”

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask.

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs.

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte.

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask.

“Eren told me.”

You look over at him, giving him your best glare.

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair.

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.”

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.”

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily.

“Okay?” you respond.

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?”

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him.

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances.

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks.

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.”

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?”

You smack him hard on the shoulder.

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.”

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.”

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond.

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.”

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.”

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.”

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?”

“God. You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.”

“Do you want to kiss now?”

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him.

“You never change, do you Sukuna?”

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.”

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.”

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.”

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear.

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.”

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting.

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor.

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you.

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.”

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink.

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.”

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered.

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!”

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night.

Y/N: Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes.

Y/N: Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco: Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better.

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen.

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes.

“You okay?”

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper.

No matter how long I resist temptation I always lose It hurts to be something It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math There’s no solution We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this?

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away.

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen.

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner.

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played.

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand.

“What’s this?”

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle.

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?”

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.”

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter.

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.”

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down.

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand.

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.”

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to.

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?”

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past.

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door.

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned.

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window.

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.”

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you.

“Huh?”

“That was me.” he responds, again.

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask.

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together.

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker.

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head.

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes.

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch.

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice.

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.”

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.”

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify.

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says.

“Okay.”

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping.

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry.

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking.

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder.

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."

“I need you to come get me, Eren.”

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist by either commenting on this or the masterlist <3

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

a/n: you may be thinking to yourself, ro! a gg fic?? how unlike you!! well, boy do i have news for you 😂 truthfully, i’ve always been toying with the idea of writing a lil somethin’ (esp for ryujin god i love her) so i thought why not! if this isn’t your cup of tea, that’s totally okay <3 those who do read, thank you so much for reading and i hope that ya like it hehe and let me know what you think of it! :D (thank you @dom--minnie for enabling me too ;)

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

🍒 Pairing: self insert, female reader x shin ryujin

🍒 Genre: fluff n’ a lil bit suggestive

🍒 Tags: friends to lovers, high school au (everyone depicted is 18+), all girls school au, high school crush!ryujin, shy!reader, confession of feelings, that good, good makin’ out, ryujin being flirty and smug as hell bc i love her, yeah this is just me gushing about shin ryujin, ro trying new things on the blog :)

🍒 Word count: 2.9k

🍒 CWs: mentions of food and eating reader included

The grass felt sticky and uncomfortable under your crossed legs, and when you swiped your hand against the skin, you could feel the indentation from the blades. Your knee-high socks felt itchy too; everything felt itchy. Even the cotton of your shirt felt like it was suffocating, and the bow tied around your neck which hung loosely should have hung even looser.

To distract yourself, you plucked up the blades of green and tied them into knots absentmindedly. It was easier to pay attention to your idle hands compared to paying attention to her.

Could she even tell that you were looking? Could she see out of the corner of her eye when she threw her cotton-candy pink hair behind her ear? Could she tell that you watched as she gulped down the lemonade and caught a glance at the peachy fuzz of her neck exposed by her collar?

Stop looking. Stop looking.

Your other friends tied up their hair in clips and with lazy hair ties to free their sweating necks from the sun. No matter the sweltering heat, it was always tradition for your picnic just before the summer vacation. One of them had brought a cake and each of the girls attacked it viciously with small forks and smeared bits of frosting on each other’s noses.

“Come here!! You’re next!!” They beamed while launching themselves in your direction to dot your nose with the white cream.

A flurry of high pitched giggles peeled out from each of you once another frosting victim had been dubbed. Your cheeks felt furiously hot knowing that she was looking; and that she was laughing along with the rest of them.

“Awwww cute.” She adored with a smile that turned her dimples into whiskers on her cheeks.

You quickly wiped it off with a handkerchief that settled into your damp hand.

She’s looking, she’s looking…

The other girls pranced around the checkered picnic blanket in their white socks--undoubtedly painting them with green that their mothers would scold them for later. Their careless steps made a mess of the food wrappers and canvas backpacks that held down the corners of the thin fabric. The joyous cheers of the girls seemed to harmonize with the song of the cicadas in the trees; both sounds reminded you of the coming of the summer and the humid weather that makes the air dense.

One of the girls brought out her phone and played loudly from it one of her favorite songs which she knew every word too, regardless of the fact that her tone was far from the singer’s.

You and your friends never cared much for how others would view you. Even at school when you would march through the hallways arm-and-arm, others would stare at the way that none of you batted an eye at those who would glare.

They were just jealous was all.

“Be careful!!” You found yourself scolding, “What if you fall running around like that?”

In response, your friends promptly stuck out their tongues in your general direction.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryujin coolly popped another cherry into her mouth from the bowl by her crossed legs. “If they fall, let them! It's funnier that way.”

She threw a wink right at you, which you almost didn’t catch because you had quickly averted your eyes to become much more interested in the tiny tea-cakes.

“You’re always worrying Y/n! Its summer!”

“I-I do not.”

Ryujin chuckled in that way that always made you feel like your heart was just about ready to leap out of your chest.

“Lighten up! Come on!”

Before you could process it all, your friend patted down the wrinkles in her skirt and threw off her shoes. She rose, and neared your corner of the blanket with hands outstretched.

“Stop worrying about things or if people are watching!” She scolded you with a cute and tiny pout, “Get up!” Ryujin wriggled her hands with emphasis to show you that you could take hold of them.

“W-what…?”

The other girls giggled on, hardly even noticing the two of you over their singing.

You grabbed onto her hands, already loathing how damp your own felt against hers out of your own nervousness. She still held onto you tightly, saying nothing of them and helped you to your feet. Immediately she brightened once you played along and started to swing your arms in tune with the song. Your friend lip synced to the rap part and you felt just about ready to swoon from how cool she looked saying the words with ease.

“Dance with me!! Don’t pay attention to people walking by or anything like that!”

Ryunjin led you by the hand to the patch of grass with little white and pink flowers laced into it. You really did try to pay attention to dancing, but everything else seemed to be distracting even when you tried hard enough. She brought your hand up higher to spin her, and when she twisted, everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the billow of her plaid shirt, her rosy-pink hair which swiped just at her shoulders, even the way that the sunset melted behind her into swirls of sunburst yellow and vibrant orange. It was like she was all a part of it.

“Your turn!” She said, twisting you too.

You didn’t realize that you would have been as dizzied by it as you were, but when you lost your footing, she was just as quick to help you with her hands carefully grasped onto your shoulders.

“You okay?” Ryujin asked, out of breath, but still genuine.

“I’m fine!”

Your knees wobbled with barely any strength to them, but you mustered every bit of confidence that you had to keep being this close to her. You surprised yourself when you reached back for her hands to continue swinging them between you.

The other girls collapsed back onto the blanket in a pile of shallow exhales and airy laughs that they exchanged between them.

“No more dancing, I-I can’t do any more…” One of them announced while leaning against the shoulder of another one of your friends.

“I forgot! I brought this!!” One of your friends with pigtail braids dove deeply into her backpack and pulled out nearly all of the contents before finding the small cube-case which was decorated with an obscene amount of keychains. “My camera! We have to take some pictures so that we can remember this!”

The other girls squealed in agreement and ganged up on her to fit into the frame of the white Polaroid camera that she had also splattered with stickers.

“Here, I wanna show you something.” Ryujin drew your attention back to the blanket where she settled back down with her own bag draped over her legs.

“What is it?”

“Ryujinnie! I wanna take your picture too! Your pink hair is so pretty…” One of your friends cooed with a sad downturn to her lips, “I hope that you never change it.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. We’ll see. My cousin has been saying that she wants to see what I would look like blonde these days.”

The small talk didn’t concern you too much, you were more concerned with what it was that your friend had to show you.

“I’m going on a trip with my cousins soon so we’ll see what happens.”

Your friend sighed, and skipped over the mess of the blanket to pull Ryujin by the wrist to the walkway a little farther off. “You’d look so cute over here!”

She pardoned her, and stumbled after the eager girl to let her take a Polaroid of her. Even from far away, you could still hear the two of them admire the picture with happy little expressions of “ah! I told you that it would look good!”

The two girls returned, and you began to worry if your friend even remembered what she had said in the first place.

What is it? What does she want to show me?

“Shoot!!” Another one of your friends huffed out while looking at her phone, “I forgot that I have to tutor the middle schoolers today!! I’m late!!”

The girls went to action in a mere matter of seconds sweeping up the picnic assortment and shoving the leftovers into their backpacks.

You helped them and tried to look over to your other friend who didn’t return your glances. Perhaps she really had forgotten.

You let your imagination run wild for just a few moments, although the more that you did, the more it all just seemed preposterous. Maybe it was a confession letter, maybe she had written for you one of those poems like she had liked to do, maybe she had rather wanted to talk to you about something...say something that you wanted to say back…

“I’m going to stick around.” Ryunjin said suddenly with her hands on her hips. “Y/n, you’re welcome to stay too if you want. We don’t exactly have to go home yet since the sun’s still up.”

Your friends looked to you for your answer, to which you stammered out an, “O-okay…” The best that you could.

“See you later!!” They called after with their shoes only half-slid onto their feet.

You waved them off, but the farther that they walked away, the more the realization started to hit you that you were alone with her. The sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and you calmed it trying to think about anything else but the fact that now her attention was truly undivided upon you.

“You said that you wanted to show me something?”

Your friend nodded, and patted the grass beside her for you to join her. She gathered up the small bundle of cherries left behind and positioned them into her lap.

“I learned this trick a little bit ago and I wanted to show you!”

“A trick?”

She nodded, and plucked from one of the crimson berries a stem which she put directly into her mouth.

“What are you doing?!” On the surface, it didn’t seem like the most sanitary thing to do.

Ryunjin stifled a laugh and lightly hit you on the arm to chastise you. “Just wait a minute!”

You watched in your confusion as her face contorted a little, and her eyebrows twisted like she was thinking. Her cheeks puffed a little too, and you could tell that she was doing something with it in her mouth--it was only then when you realized that you had been intensely observing her mouth.

In your embarrassment you threw your eyes in the other direction, but it was no use one you heard her start to giggle at how flustered you had become.

“It’s okay, you’re supposed to look.” She assured you.

“What-what is it?”

“Annnnd done!” Your friend proclaimed proudly and you struggled to meet her again without feeling like your whole face and the tips of your ears were burning up.

Right on the pink of her tongue she had tied the stem into a tiny knot which she displayed proudly.

“You...did that with your tongue?”

“Mm-hm!”

Your hands reduced back to their clammy state, and they found the grass between your own folded legs to find something to do.

“That's...that’s pretty cool…”

“I know right?!”

Back came your friend's little dimples, and this time your chest started to feel like it was swelling with heat.

Stop looking, stop looking…

“I can teach you how to do it some day if you’d like.” Ryujin’s tone dropped lower, and more serious in the way that some had thought to be intimidating. To you, there was nothing more that could make you feel the beat of your own heart more obviously.

“Teach me? How??”

The question felt like a butterfly in your lips, fluttering and ticklish, light and uncertain. You met her eyes the best you could; even though you knew that there was nothing about her that you didn’t already know, or that was threatening.

Your friend tilted her head, inspecting you and the way that you could barely keep your glance away from her lips--stained just a little red from the cherries--then smiled.

“W-what? What is it? Why are you smiling?”

She sighed, and craned forward on one of her hands in the grass, bridging the distance between the two of you to caress down the side of your face, all the way to your jaw with the back of her fingers.

“You’re just too cute.”

“Hm?” Your chest threw itself up and down, and you could thinly feel the breath that tried to fill your lungs when she was this close.

“I just can’t handle it any more.”

“Me?”

Ryunjin nodded, softening her eyes until they were nearly closed, and rid the two of you of all space, leaning over just so you could feel the weight of her chest nearly pressing into yours. At first, she placed the lightest of kisses into you, so light that it barely brushed against your lips, but merely imprinted upon them. She leaned back, leaving you with the ghost of a feeling of her upon you. It felt a bit unfair how fleeting it was, and how she looked at you like that: smug as ever, but as blissful as she always was.

Your breaths tried to make sense of it all, if it had just happened, and what to think of it. As quick as it was, all you could want was to feel it again.

“Ryu--”

She cradled both sides of your face in hers, leaning in with more fervor and parting your lips with hers, leaving you to squeak from the sudden movement. You couldn’t figure out how to kiss back at first, or if you should hold her too. Your head felt like it was spinning in circles from your disbelief when you could taste the tiny tang of the sweet and sour cherries which lingered on her lips. She rubbed her thumbs into your cheeks, and angled you better to let her growing smile paint your own mouth from corner to corner.

At last, you were able to find a rhythm which suited you, and you kissed her right back. She giggled at your stroke of confidence and the vibrations made your whole body tingle. Your feet had surely fallen asleep where you had folded them beside you, but the numb feeling of them dissolved once her hands fell to your shoulder where she held to you tightly. The pressure from the tips of her fingers made you shiver, and you too smoothed down the pink shine of her hair.

The warm and ticklish feeling of her tongue grazed your lower lip where she changed her approach and deepened her kiss. The heat of tongues finally met in the middle testing and learning more of the other the closer that you became, and tiny airy gasps got stuck between both of your curiosity. In your lap, her hands found yours and they laced together and held tight; each digit wrapping the other and becoming one with the eagerness of her thumb rubbing little circles into the squishy parts of your hand.

After the heat of your passion started to melt, you found yourself hiding your giddy laughter the best you could once she started to peck at your lips over and over until you felt like she had kissed you so close to the brim that you would overflow.

“I said that you’re cute and I mean it!” She snuck the phrase in between a couple more kisses, eliciting you to fold up in your giddy embarrassment from the compliment.

Ryunjin pulled away, and popped another cherry into her mouth from the bundle, then threw her arms around your shoulders. You simply let your hands rest in her lap covered by the plaid of her skirt; shaking from the release of the endorphins and the adrenaline.

“Ryujin...I wanted to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you for a...really long time…” You shied, but she brought your chin back to look at her directly.

“Good. Me too.”

You couldn’t even process the combination of her words for them to make sense. White noise filled your ears, even though it should have been obvious from the way that she had kissed you like that.

“Oh! Here. I wanted to give this to you too. Something to remember me by.”

She reached for her bag, and pulled out a white-out pen from the front pocket. The Polaroid had faded into its full color, and she focused with her tongue peeking from her mouth as she wrote the message:

see you soon <3

- ryujinnie

Over her head in the picture, she doodled a few hearts, then she blew on the ink to dry it.

“For you!”

You took the picture with your hands still thoroughly shaking, and all you could utter was a “thanks” while you took in your friend looking as gorgeous as she always was. You knew then that you would treasure the image forever, and the day which it was taken.

“Who knows,” Ryujin started, and let her head fall to your shoulder where she nuzzled in, “This might be the last that you’ll see of my pink hair too.”

You turned the picture over, already sensing how it made your heart feel like it was aching sticky and sweet, just like the cherries.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @dom--minnie @waterthemoon @pastelracha @mistakensilence @hotgorloikawa @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

champagne problems. | harry styles.

summary: Harry and Y/N meet again after things fell out for them.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 7.3k words

trigger warnings: mentions of mental health issues and attempt of self harm, angst. if these are triggering to you, pls do not read this.

a/n: (gif credits to @letsmakesomeonehappytoday) i’m super nervous about this, also this is definitely the longest i’ve written. i began writing this last december bc i absolutely love the context of the song and i felt like writing something that touches important issues like mental health. i read and did research on how i could write this properly without having it look like i was romanticising the topic. if you do find it that way, pls feel free to leave constructive criticism so i can further improve and amend on my writing. don’t feel obligated to read this if it is triggering to you. here is a link to some mental health hotlines, i might add some more in another if i find any that are reliable. don’t be afraid to ask for help or even help others if you know they might be struggling.

reblog, comment if you like it or not, or even start a conversation. donate to my kofi if you’d like to support me further. i love you all.

The relaxing and sensual sound of jazz music filled the room. The chandeliers hanging above casted a golden glow over it, making the room more elegant than it did. People were dressed in nice clothing for the new year celebration.

Harry was not one for New Year’s eve parties, having to prefer sitting in the comfort of his home, sipping on some champagne as he tries to ignore the loud fireworks going off. But considering it was one of his old friends that was hosting this particular party, there was no way he would deny it. He enjoyed having to see his old friends again after a busy year of filming a movie for the world to see one day.

He stands with his friend, Jake, as he holds a champagne flute in one hand. Talia, his recently girlfriend-turned-fiancée, standing next to him with an arm wrapped around his waist. It had been two weeks since he proposed and two weeks since she said yes to marrying him. It was a joyous time for them after nearly a year of dating. Some might think they rushed but Harry ignored them. He knew if the time was right, then it would be bound to happen eventually.

Harry’s eyes scan through the sea of people while Jake and Talia are discussing animatedly about something he probably isn’t paying attention to all that much. His eyes wander around until they fall on a familiar figure. He blinks his eyes hard enough to make sure they aren’t playing tricks on him, and they aren’t. The person who he knew and loved before. The person whom he intended to spend the rest of his life with. The person who left him, not giving him a reason as to why.

Y/N stands with Natalia, occasionally sipping on her champagne as they talk. He should have known that their group of friends would stay in touch with her, even after they broke up years ago. She wears her casual dark jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt and heeled boots. A contrast to those around them, wearing fancy dresses and suits. She always stood out in her own way. It was why he loved her then.

Harry let out a breath, seemingly couldn’t believe that his ex lover is here in the same room as him. Talia notices this and questions, “Babe, you alright?” Harry breaks away his gaze from Y/N before smiling at his dear fiancée. “Yeah, m’fine. Just saw an old friend, s’all,” he assures her as he sips on his drink.

“Oh, d’you want to talk to her?” She asks, and Harry shakes his head because if he did, he wouldn’t know how to act or say to her. “No worries. Maybe later,” he says.

As time passes, Harry finds himself focused on Y/N numerous times. In his mind, he is already thinking of ways to talk to her. What would he say to her? Would she even want to talk to him? Or were they going to pretend everything was fine before she left him?

When he looks around for her again, he freezes as he sees her eyes staring right back at her, almost looking in shock as he is there too. There is a glimmer in her eyes that he always noticed. She gives him a small yet timid smile from across the room before breaking away from the eye contact.

Harry decides to pick up what’s left of his courage in his body to walk over and greet her. He leans into Talia’s ear, whispering to her. “I’m just going to meet an old friend. You’ll be okay here?” He says. Talia looks up at him and nods. She assures him that she’ll be alright, saying that she’ll talk to some other of their friends.

As he leaves her side, he walks through the sea of people to look for the person he hadn’t seen in a long time. Harry finds her grabbing another glass of champagne from a nearby tray and he smiles at this. He always knew she liked champagne. She doesn’t notice him walking up to her until he clears his throat. She turns around and her breath hitches as she sees him. Harry’s mouth dries up instantly as his eyes gazes upon her. Despite years of knowing her, he still found her beautiful.

The corner of his lips curls up slightly. “Hi,” he says quietly, his breath slightly shaking as he spoke. He isn’t sure whether she heard him, but her reply seems to answer that. “Hi,” she replies, with the same nervousness in her voice.

“Fancy seeing yeh here,” he chuckles. Y/N smiles at this; while it was awkward to have seen her ex in a long while, he never fails to make the situation comfortable for them. “Y-Yeah, you too,” she stutters.

She is not going to admit it aloud, but she misses the sound of his voice. How deep and raspy it could get. She misses his voice being the first thing she hears when she wakes up, or the hums she would hear in her ear as they would dance with no music on. She misses his touch whenever he holds her close, warmth and protection radiating from his body onto hers. She misses everything about him despite them not being together anymore for a long time, she admits but never out loud.

Silence fills the gap between as they both figure out what to say. On one hand, they can pretend everything is alright and converse like old friends. On the other, they can push their fears aside and talk about what is actually in their minds that seem to have an affect on their current relationship.

“So, how’ve yeh been?” He hesitates to ask. He’s not sure whether she would lie to him or give him the proper answer he needs. The answer he wishes he knew. Y/N doesn’t know how to answer that without making it sound as depressing as it is. There had been many times she wanted to give him a reason why she left him, to give him a little bit of closure that he deserves. Perhaps it is her pride that prevented her from doing so.

“I’m alright,” she says with a small smile on her lips. Her answer could be a lie or the truth. “And, you?”

He nods slightly at her answer. “I’ve been alright,” He gives her tight smile back. “Been a while since I last saw you,” he says and she nods. “Y-Yeah, way too long,” she says quietly. It’s hard to ignore how insincere the smile he gave her is. Y/N knows him all too well, even when they were no longer together. She knows by that smile that there’s something on his mind, something he wants to say. But she doesn’t question it.

Harry is aching to ask her. To ask what happened between them, why she left him without a warning, why she had to break his heart the way she did.

It’s almost like she senses what he is thinking because she then suggests to him. “Want to go outside for a bit?” She gestures to the backyard with her head.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Harry breathes out. He almost cringes at how desperate he sounds. “Um, after you,” he says, gesturing his hand towards the door. She softly thanks him and Harry follows right behind her outside.

“So-”

“I-”

The pair speak simultaneously as they walk and they both laugh at it. “Sorry,” she says. Harry dismisses this. “No worries.”

“You look great, by the way,” she says. Harry smiles at her compliment. “Thank you. You look amazing too,” he returns the compliment. She blushes a bit before muttering a soft ‘thank you’ under her breath.

The cold air wraps around the two bodies that once knew each other’s intimately. The stars look brighter that night and Y/N takes a deep breath as she stares up at the sky. She doesn’t realise how Harry looks at the small breath she let out, or how he admires her side profile like he used to when she sleeps. He stares at her for a bit more, like he’s remembering again what she looks like, before averting his eyes to the night sky.

“Saw you had a date back there. Someone special I assume?” She asks out of the blue. Harry freezes in his place. “Y-Yeah, she is,” he blurts out and clears his throat. “My fiancée, actually,” he says and he looks at her to see her reaction.

Y/N is surprised at first, feeling her whole body tense up before she relaxes. But Harry catches it. “That’s great. Congratulations, Harry,” she smiles at him before turning back the stars. She promises she is genuine about it. But maybe she’s just telling herself that. “How long have you both been together?”

“Nearly a year now,” he says. Y/N lets his answer sink in her head. A year, she thought. We were together longer than that for you to propo-

“Seems like a short time, huh?” She jokes, but Harry only gives a small smile. “Is it though? Too soon to ask if we’re both ready?” He says, as if he’s mocking her and something. And that sent a shard through her chest. Harry curses at himself, he shouldn’t be saying things like that despite them not being together anymore. She looks down at the ground like it was suddenly the most interesting thing and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she apologises. Harry is quick to shake his head at her. “No, no. I’m sorry for how I said it. You did nothing,” he says. Y/N is silent for a bit before saying back to him.

“No, really. I didn’t mean to make things weird or uncomfortable between us. I’m just.. Sorry,” she says.

“How are you, Y/N?” He asks genuinely. Y/N is confused at first, wondering why he is asking the same question again. “I already told you, Harry. I’m alri-,”

“I mean, how actually are you?”

She turns to him, seeing as Harry is already looking at her with a solemn expression. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he says softly, almost sounding like he doesn’t want to scare her. And she knows what he meant and what he wants to know.

Y/N suddenly feels a lump forming in her throat and breathes in deeply. She clears her throat, hoping her voice doesn’t waver when she speaks. “I promise I’m okay, Harry. I just,” she sighs and closes her eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve been getting by on my own. Trying to work on myself, you know, since,” her words falter, but Harry knows what she means. Since she left him without an answer to one of the most important questions in life. He nods his head slightly even though she doesn’t see it.

He lets out a sigh as he looks up at the starry night. “You know, it’s… kind of surreal. Us being here I mean,” he says. Y/N looks at him again with confusion written all over her face. “I’ve been wondering where you’ve been. I called but you never seem to answer. I just wanted to see how’ve yeh been, you know?” He confesses, throwing this big weight out in the open.

Y/N has her head hung low, like a child being scolded for stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar. But she knows he means well. And she hates how not only she caused problems for herself, but the person she once loved.

“I just… I miss my best friend, Y/N. I miss having her around,” he says, and he doesn’t realise how his words hit her like a truck. She breathes in sharply, feeling a slight pain in her throat. “And you don’t think I felt the same way then?” She asks softly, her voice already wavering.

Harry shakes his head. “No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” He’s quick to apologise but she dismisses it while ignoring the fact that he called her a very familiar pet name he used to use on her. “It’s fine,” she says, and her voice is almost quiet enough for you to not hear her.

“It’s just,” she breathes out and she looks up hoping that tears won’t escape her eyes. “I wanted to let you in. I could’ve answered the phone. But I didn’t. I know how bad I left things between us, H.” Harry’s heart jumped a bit at hearing her say ‘H’ again. She used to always call him that. It still sounds lovely as it leaves her lips.

“I wish I could’ve told you why I left you kneeling with the ring still in your hand. I couldn’t, though. Maybe I wasn’t ready that time, or never was.” It hurts for her to say this because she has imagined spending the rest of her life with him countless times. “I’ve had this constant battle in my mind for so long. I thought that maybe if I ignore it, it’d be like it never was there and we’d be alright. But it got worse and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I held it on for so long and I couldn’t say anything because I knew I’d somehow ruin everything. Well, I did in the end.” And she feels tears streaming down her face.

Harry feels his tears escaping his eyes too, but doesn’t make the effort to wipe them away. As if he’s paralyzed in where he stands. “A-And, what happened after that?” he asks ever so gently.

Y/N wipes her tears away and takes a deep breath before continuing the sad story they’re on. “I lived with it and the thoughts consumed my mind. S-Sometimes, they can get dark.” She confesses but not all at once. She won’t tell him how she felt herself crumbling down and how her mother found her unconscious in the bathroom, overdosing on some pills she found. She won’t tell him how hard she cried in her hospital bed over the pain she was in. It felt like a shard puncturing through Harry’s heart. The fact that she had been struggling all this while and he never noticed it, it kills him.

“Then, one day, I just decided to find help. I knew I needed help. And I’ve been having sessions with a psychiatrist for a few months now.” And she smiles through her tears. “I’ve been working a lot on myself, been on medication and all. Then, maybe one day, when I feel ready for it, I’d come find you, apologise for the problems I caused between us. Didn’t think it’d be tonight, though.” She jokes and hangs her head low again, like she’s scared to see what Harry thinks of her now. Just a girl who’s sick in the head.

There is an uncomfortable silence between them and Harry speaks up again. “You infuriate me sometimes, you know?” Y/N looks at him and his eyebrows are pressed together like he’s mad. She is once again confused at what he meant. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve helped you. I would’ve,” he pauses and runs his fingers through his brown curls, taking a breather so he won’t actually lose his temper. But for Y/N, it’s like she wanted him to scream at her. Yell at her for leaving him behind for her own selfish needs.

“I would’ve looked after you,” he says softly, and it’s heartbreaking to hear the pain in his voice. “I didn’t want to burden you, H. I wouldn’t do that to you,” she says gently and Harry shakes his head at her. “Is that what you thought? That you’d burden me?” She only shrugs at him with a sad smile.

“I heard it before.” She says, and it makes Harry furious that anyone would toss aside the state of her mental health. “It’s not because of your job, Harry. Or your fans,” she assures him. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with what I’ve been going through. You deserve someone who isn’t as fucked in the head as I am,” she says.

Harry now has tears running down his cheeks. He now wishes he could go back and actually pay more attention to her, instead of being ignorant to it. He remembers when she left, the neighbourhood had quite a bit to say about the rejection, particularly on her. They often talked about how insane she was to deny his proposal because marriage is what every woman needs, right? Granted, he told them off not to speak about Y/N so poorly ever again, but he still wishes he could’ve seen the signs when it got worse for her.

Now, she stands in front of him, and it might be wrong to admit this, but she still looks just as beautiful as the day he lost her. Her eyes still have the same shine and her smile still has the same warmth to it. He lets out a small laugh. “This is not how I actually planned to spend my New Year’s eve,” he says jokingly and they both laugh, almost like the entire sad conversation did not occur. “I know,” she says, smiling at him. She doesn’t realise how her words took him back to when they would get drunk on wine while watching romantic comedies together on their couch.

“This is quite an interesting relationship you and I have,” he says smiling as he looks up at the starry night. She smiles at him too before doing the same. It’s the comfortable silence filling the gaps between them now. Just two people under the stars, one has it all figured out while the other has champagne problems.

She looks back at the building, gold lights still shining as people are getting drunk and ready for the countdown. “You should probably go back to your fiancée, H,” she says. Harry sighs as their time together has come to an end and nods. “Um, it was really great seeing you, Harry,” she says as her feet fidgets against the ground. She feels like a teenager talking to her crush again.

Before he even thinks, Harry has his hand up, brushing off the piece of hair of face, and his thumb lightly brushes over her cheeks a bit. “You too, Y/N,” he says, and he means it. Y/N feels her face warm up, before nodding her head at him and leaving. “Where’re yeh going?” He calls out to her. Without looking back, she calls back to him. “Home!”

He only looks at her leaving for a moment before calling out to her again. “Y/N, wait!”

Y/N stops in her tracks and looks back at him. “Um,” he fumbles on his words. “If I call you, not tonight, or tomorrow, just if any day after this, because we’re on good terms, uh,” he blurts out his words as she watches him, amused by what he wants to ask. “If I call, will you answer? Like I said before, I miss my best friend,” he shrugs and has almost a pleading look. Y/N’s heart melts at him and she smiles.

“I will, H,”

❊

Since their last meeting, a lot of things have been on his mind and one of them was Y/N. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her and the conversation they had. He knew now that it must’ve taken a lot of bravery to speak up about what she was going through. And he was proud of her. He really was.

He has been thinking about calling her for a while. He just doesn’t know what he’ll say. He wants to know how she’s feeling even though he’ll never know what it felt like for her to go through the dark times she went. But he could try to understand. He owes her that, at least. He spends some of his time off reading about mental health issues and educating himself more now.

Talia wanted to start planning their wedding, which makes Harry fill up his schedule more between wedding plans and music plans. He tries his best to accommodate whatever Talia wants for their special day. Though, sometimes he finds himself not focusing on the shades of white she suggested for her dress.

Sometimes, Talia would get mad at him for not prioritizing their wedding, seemingly as it was a very important thing for them, well, more for her. She gets mad at him for not focusing on their plans instead of hiding in his studio. She once told him to get his act together because if he wasn’t serious about this, he never would have asked her to marry him. That knocked a nail on the head as she stormed out of the room after another small argument.

Part of him thinks it's the thought of marriage finally sinking in his head. He has the girl, he got a ‘yes’, it should be as exciting as when he asked her. But he finds himself in and out of planning, always reverting his focus back to music, like he’s stalling. He still hasn’t told Talia about Y/N, but there was no need to since he’s with her and not Y/N. When Talia asked about his slightly red eyes at the party, he lied and said something was in his eyes. She believed it, of course.

Now, he’s thinking back to the situation with Talia. He admits he hadn't been paying attention to her as much as he should or helping out with their wedding. But her words now stuck with him. If he wasn’t serious about marrying Talia, he wouldn’t have asked her. He tells himself that he really does love her and he knows she loves him. So why is he hesitating almost at the thought of marriage? Why does it feel like he’s leading her on? He was so sure he wanted her. Unless he only asked her for the hell of it and to not be lonely.

He sits quietly in his little studio with his thoughts as his company. What is he really doing? He really doesn’t know.

❊

She’s laying down on her sofa, staring up at the ceiling again. She does this a lot, having nothing much to do at home other than rereading the books on her shelf or following a recipe for a delicious meal. Instead, she lays down staring at the blank ceiling thinking of how her life went. And in the state of all nothingness, she thinks of him.

Meeting Harry again opened up a whole jar of emotions she kept hidden. It was no doubt that she still cared for him. She was still in love with him and if they were in another universe, she’d tell him that. She’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to him, for causing so much hurt to him. But she couldn’t. He belongs to someone else now. Someone who is more worthy of his love and time. And she’s happy for him, genuinely she is.

As she thinks about him, she recalls back to the days before it all went wrong. She remembers being scared. She had found his mother’s ring in between his clothes as she was putting away their laundry. She remembers being terrified of the commitment Harry was in. She knew for certain that he would ask her sooner or later. But for her, she still doesn’t know. She wants to marry him, but is she ready for it? Is she worthy of him devoting his love and time to her for the rest of his life?

That’s when the doubts came in. She was always battling the thoughts in her head more often after finding out that he might propose to her. She keeps a disguise up, pretending she’s not screaming for help or suffering, hoping that maybe it’ll go away and when he asks, she’ll say the answer he wants to hear. But she didn’t keep the disguise up for long.

When they arrived at Harry’s family home, she was overwhelmed. She saw the bottle of expensive champagne on the kitchen table. Their friends were there too. She was told they were just having a family gathering along with their friends, but she knew what was about to happen.

Nothing could prepare her for when Harry pulled her out the backyard, kneeling down in front of her with his mother’s ring in hand. She could still remember the look on his face, so bright and in love, then having to see it all disappear and his expression drop. He was speechless, so speechless that it took him a minute to snap out of it and run after her as she exited the house. She passed by the living room and had a glance of how everyone was rather to celebrate; no applause or cheers of congratulations were made.

She felt a lot of things that day. Pain, embarrassment, guilt, regret.

Now, a year later, she likes to think she’s doing better, not only for her family or Harry, but for myself. It’s safe to say it was going well for her, she definitely felt better. That dark part of her life was always going to be a part of her, but she was glad she did something about it.

She had struggled a lot before asking for help. She always had trouble sleeping and always felt herself drained to the core. She took some sleeping pills in hopes to feel better. Until one day, she just decided to down the whole bottle like she was downing a bottle of alcohol. She was lucky enough that her mother was around when she found her, her father too was quick enough to call an ambulance. It was too hazy for her to remember precisely what happened after. When she got admitted, she cried to her mother of how much pain she was in, and it killed her. She thinks of how selfish and stupid it was for her to do something like that. That’s when she decided she needed help, like really needed help.

It’s funny how life works sometimes. A few months ago, she was found nearly dead. She has been recovering now. It took a while to open up during her psychiatry sessions and her mother monitored her to make sure she was doing alright. She lives alone now, but still has her mother check up on her. She didn’t find it annoying, in fact she asked her mother to watch over her a bit because she doesn’t trust herself.

She’s healthier now, keeping herself busy to reflect and work on herself. And it did cross her mind a few times before to find Harry, to maybe apologise to him. But she thought that perhaps he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. And that’s okay for her. Plus, she always hoped that he would find someone else that’ll love him just as much as she did him.

He hasn’t contacted her since they last met and she wonders whether he’s scared of doing so. Then again, she hasn’t made the effort to contact him too. Maybe they’re both scared.

She was about to get up and make herself some coffee after feeling a bit thirsty. She takes out a mug and sets it on the counter before she hears a knock on her door. She freezes in her place, her face scrunches up in confusion. She doesn’t remember having anyone making plans to come by. She hasn’t contacted her friends in a while and her parents would have told her that they would visit.

Knocks on her door snaps her out of her trance as she realises she is still in the kitchen. She slowly walks up to the door and looks through the peephole. To her surprise, she sees Harry standing right before her door. She pulls herself back from the door and thinks for a moment. How did he know where she lived now? Why is he here when he could have just called her?

Realising that he’s probably waiting outside for too long, she takes deep breaths and opens the door. There he is. Standing in his usual white t-shirt where you could see his tattoos through it, his black joggers hugging his muscular legs with some sneakers on his feet. His hair is a bit disheveled and she could imagine him running his fingers through it in a nervous and stressful manner.

“Hi,” he says breathily. His expression is somewhat hopeful, she thinks. “Hey,” she replies, giving a small smile. He’s fidgeting on his feet, something she knows he does when he’s nervous. So why is he nervous? She’s trying to come up with different theories in her head.

“Um, may I come in?” Harry asks. Y/N snaps out of her thoughts again and nods quickly, opening the door wider for him to walk through, hearing him mumbling a small ‘thanks’ under his breath. Harry looks around the small new apartment she now lives in, smiling at how it is very much her character the way she put things together.

She locks the door behind her and clears her throat as she faces him. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue like this,” he apologises. She only smiles and shakes her head. “No, no worries. I was just... wondering how you found where I live. I don’t think I ever told you that,” she says questionably.

The corner of his lips lift up just slightly. “Your mother, actually,” he says. She rolls her eyes playfully at this and lets out a small laugh. Of course, her mother would let him know where she lived. Her parents always loved Harry and treated him as family. Even when they fell apart, they still cared about him. After all, he was one of the only good things in her life that she cherished.

“Of course, she would. She still loves you for all I know,” she says with a sheepish smile. Harry throws his back in laughter and it makes her smile even more. “Well, I guess I might have to visit them again some time,” he says, smiling cheekily at her.

For a moment, it feels like everything was normal between them.

She shakes her head at him as she plays with her fingers, something he knows she does when she is nervous. “Um, I guess you’re here to talk about something else?” She asks, and she sees how his smile falters just a bit. “Yeah, actually,” he mumbles under his breath, but she hears him.

She nods with a tight smile on her face, seemingly trying to mask her anxiousness behind it. “Okay. Uh, just, make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a glass of water,” she says, hurrying off to the kitchen before Harry could say anything. She sets a glass down and gets a jug of water. Her hands are shaking just a bit and she tells herself to calm down. It’s just Harry, she thinks. Whatever he wants to say couldn’t be that bad. Right?

She comes back to the living room where Harry is. He hasn’t sat down on the couch, instead he’s just standing in the middle of the room, looking around and admiring the little touches she put like the indoor plants and the paintings on the wall. She gently sets the glass down on the coffee table, the glass making a ‘clink’ sound on the surface. Harry turns around to face her and smiles, his little dimple making an appearance on the corner of his lips. She smiles back at him before clearing her throat.

“You had something you wanna say?” She asks, fiddling with her fingers. Harry nods slightly. “Yeah, I do. Um,” he begins as he rubs the back of his neck lightly.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to say, been practicing the words in my head. So, I’m sorry if it ends up a mess,” he says, letting out a small laugh. She laughs a bit with him too. Nodding as she gestures for him to continue, he breathes in deeply before letting his words out.

“After we met last time, I, uh,” he begins and she swears she could hear how loud and fast her heart is beating. “I’ve just been reflecting on how we left things off. And I promise I meant to call you sooner, but I just didn’t know what I’d say that won’t make things weird and awkward,” he stops to look at her for a moment and the expression on his face is almost so familiar to her.

“When you told me your story, I felt a lot of things. I felt… upset and angry that I couldn’t read the signs that were so evidently there. I thought maybe I realised it sooner, or tried harder to help, I could’ve helped you and you wouldn’t have felt to have gone through it alone. I hated how you were alone in this and how you helped like you couldn’t talk to me about,” His breaths are shaky, like he might break any minute. She wants to caress his face so badly, comfort him, but she knows it wouldn’t be appropriate. He’s still engaged to someone else after all.

She looks down at her floor, taking a gulp in her throat. “Harry, what are you saying?” She asks ever so softly.

“I’m saying that… you don’t have to go through it alone, darling. I’m saying that I wanna be there for you now. Albeit it has been months, but,” he pauses to take a breath. “If you give me a chance, to let me in, I promise to always be there for you and to be by your side all the time. Whenever you need me.”

Y/N takes a moment to process what he had just said, shaking her head at him. “Harry, I,” she takes in a sharp breath. “I don’t think you need to do that.” Harry’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Why not?”

“I just, I don’t want to burden you. I’ve already made it hard for my parents enough,” she says, trying to convince him even though all she wants is for him to be by her side. He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “You’ll never be a burden to me, love. I want to be there for you always. It’s my choice to do this,”

“What about your fiancée? What’s she gonna think about her fiancé or husband soon when he’s out there looking after some girl, Harry?”

“You’re not just some girl, Y/N. You’re my best friend. And I,” he pauses in his words again and takes a deep breath. “What?” She asks nervously.

The corner of his lips lift up just slightly and his expression almost looks guilty. “And I’m in love with you,” he says and that’s when she feels that her heart stops. He loves me, she thinks. All the time, she thinks the feelings would have gone away but here he is, in her living room, telling her he’s in love with her.

“No,” she says. Harry is surprised by her response. “No?” He repeats.

“You’re not in love with me anymore, Harry,” she says, almost like she’s trying to convince herself that. “Yes, I am, love. I’m still in love with you, even after all this time,” he says desperately to her.

“Don’t do this to me, Harry. It’s not funny,” she says as her voice starts to waver. “It’s not fair to your fiancée for you to say this.” It’s funny to her how she still doesn’t know her name, but maybe she doesn’t know hers either. Harry steps closer to her and his heart breaks a little when she steps back.

“Darling,”

“Don’t, Harry! Please,” she practically begs him. “Just go back to her. It’s been a good talk and it’s good to see you again but you have to leave,”

“I don’t want to leave you, Y/N,” he says and it’s surprising how calm he is at this moment.

“Harry, I,”

“I’m not engaged anymore,” he says, cutting her off. She stares at him in shock and disbelief. “What do you mean?” She asks. He sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I broke it off with Talia. There won’t be any wedding,” he confesses.

“So what? You broke up with her just to look out for me? Are you insane!?” She exclaims. She doesn’t want to believe that he broke up with her because of her. She thinks back if she would’ve hid from him during the party, he’d still be in a happy relationship with Talia with no problems. Once again, she’s thinking it’s all her fault.

“I’m as sane as I can be,” He says, raising his voice slightly to match her tone. She shakes her head, paces in her place, muttering ‘no’s to herself. “Darling, look at me,” Harry says gently as he steps closer to her. “No, this isn’t happening,” She’s now muttering words to herself and it breaks him even more to think she might think this is her fault when it’s not.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he says as he tries to get her to look at him, but to no avail, she keeps her eyes away from him. “No, Harry. We can’t,” she says and she realises now how tears are starting to fall from her eyes. “Yes, we can, darling! Just listen to me,” he tries to convince her.

“You belong with Talia, Harry! Someone who has her life put together, a-and, someone who’s not fucked in the head as I am! She’ll make you happy!” She tells him, almost trying to convince him to go back and fix his relationship.

“She won’t make me as happy as I was with you. It wouldn’t be fair to her,” Harry says to her as he tries to cup her face and wipe her tears. “What wouldn’t be fair to her? Huh?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to lead her on when I’m in love with you!”

And then, everything stops. Silence fills the room and all you could hear are the heavy breaths between them. Harry runs his hand over his face before speaking again. “I tell myself that I’ll be able to love again after you. But the love I’ll have for any other will never amount to the love I have for you. It wouldn’t be fair to move on with Talia when all I could think about is you. When I know I’ll always be madly in love with you,” he tells her, his voice wavering with every word he says.

She breathes in shakily, feeling the painful lump in throat. “Maybe if we hadn’t met that night, you wouldn’t have to think like that,” she says so softly under her breath, like she was ashamed. She looks down like a child being scolded by a parent.

She hears him stepping closer to her and this time, she doesn’t step back away from him. She feels his hand under her chin, lifting her head up so she has no choice but to look at her. His forest-green eyes, ever so beautiful, are glossy with the tears he holds. “I wish you’d stop thinking that this is your fault when it’s not, darling,” he says gently to her.

She realises how close their faces are together, feeling his breath hitting her face as they stare at each other with the same look. She sees it in his eyes. Love. And maybe it’s because she’s emotionally exhausted or she realises how there is still love in his eyes for her and only her.

She gently yet hesitantly puts her hand on his cheek, seeing as how he leans into her touch with his eyes closed, as if he misses her touch all this time. She doesn’t waste another second before pulling his face closer and letting their lips crash against each other. Harry is quick enough to reciprocate the action. His hand that is not on her hand wraps itself around her torso so move her closer to her. All he wants is to be close to her.

She whimpers into the kiss as she feels tears streaming down her face again. She misses this. She misses his kisses, how soft and plump his lips feel against hers and how they taste. She misses the way he pulls her closer to him because he doesn’t want any space in between them. She misses him.

They don’t know long they have been kissing until they break apart to catch their breath. She feels dizzy after the kiss while he feels like he’s on cloud nine. Their lips still brush against each other and Harry pecks her lips softly as she whimpers at the action.

“I love you,” she finally tells him. And it feels so good to say it again to him. Harry sighs shakily, almost in disbelief that she said those three words, and his lips break out into the biggest smile. “Really?” He asks. She giggles as her hands cup his face.

Harry sighs and leans his head back with his eyes closed, looking so bliss in the moment. “I’m sorry. Can you say that again? I wasn’t paying attention,” he says teasingly with a smug smile on his face. Y/N gasps and playfully punches his shoulder a bit, making him laugh.

“I love you, you handsome idiot,” she says laughing at him. Harry shakes his head with a wide stupid grin on his face. He rests his forehead on hers, their noses brushing against each other’s. “Again, please. Just so I know I’m not dreaming this,” he says, his eyes closed as he savours in the moment.

She grabs his face in her hands and pulls him away so she could look at him. He notes how soft yet small her hands felt as caresses his face. “I love you,” she says again, more gently but having more love and passion in her words. And she loves saying it because she does.

She has always loved him and always will love him. Her beats for him as his does for her. Her thoughts are filled with nothing but him. Looking at him now, he feels just as lovely and beautiful as the days they were together before. She knows that she’ll never love another as much as she loves him. She’ll fully admit that she is crazy, stupidly, madly and truly in love with him.

Harry smiles ever so lovingly at her as his large hands cup her face. At this moment, it feels right, like they belong together. Despite the odds and struggles she had to go through, he promises to never leave her side, to always be around, to always be the shoulder she needed to cry on, to lend her his arms to give her the warmth and comfort she deserves. And he admits that he is truly, madly and deeply in love with her too.

“I love you too,” he says as he brings their faces closer to each other, enclosing the gap between their lips again. He misses the way her lips gelt and how sweet they taste against his. He swears he’ll never get tired of loving her. Their lips move against each other slowly and gently as they try to savour in the moment. A moment that just felt right to them. For a moment, her champagne problems are forgotten, even though it’s still something that will always be a part of her.

They part away soon after, now staring into the eyes they fell in love with. Their smiles are permanently inked on their faces as the two lovers look at each other with the only things they have on their mind that will get them through.

Love and hope.

And somehow, that was everything.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #parkersroses writing #parkersroses masterlist

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kerie-prince · 3 years

Text

forgotten birthdays

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (anon) Hiii, can I request something aangsty with Fred Weasley and slytherin reader? Like he got mad for something, maybe jealousy bc reader was spending much time with her house mates and he ignores her or says mean things to her but with a happy ending please 🥺

warnings: language

summary: Fred has his suspicions about your best friend and on the day of your birthday, he crosses the line which causes you to rethink your relationship

a/n: yoo this was hard to write for a quick second lol i hope you enjoy ~ plus, i got a new job so i'm in training and i'm so excited bc i've been wanting this job for so long (y/n/n = your nickname)

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

It was getting irritating.

You love Fred with all your heart, but he needed to stop being jealous. Marcus Flint was, is, and always will just be a friend of yours. You two grew up together and are nearly attached to the hip. Never once had you two of you flirted or done anything together. It was purely platonic, but Fred insisted there was something.

And going to Marcus’ prefect dorm after every fight probably didn't help your cause all that well, but he's your best friend. Who else would you talk to? You didn't have many girlfriends and when Fred introduced you to Angelina, you had gotten into a big fight for no reason. But you never asked him to stop hanging out with her even though you wanted to.

You could tell she liked Fred, but you were confident enough to know that Fred would never do you wrong like that. So why does he think that of you? Why does he get to hang out with Angelina, but he gets angry when you barely say two words to Marcus?

It was hard, but you’d work it out and still love each other at the end of the day. But then your birthday came around, and you’d just about had it.

You woke up in a good mood; the river sent in flowing rays of sunlight. Not too blinding, but not too dim either. This would be the second time celebrating your birthday with your boyfriend and if last year was amazing, you couldn't wait to see what Fred had planned for you today.

You took your time getting ready; you put on more make-up than usual and rather than tying your hair up with a clip as you always did, you let it down and fixed some strays to better frame your face. When you walked into the common room, your best friend snuck up behind you and yelled in your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!”

Your natural response was to duck down and cover your ears. You hated when he did that, but you still appreciate the sentiment. You punched his arm as you laughed. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah, then why did I laugh?” Marcus joked. Malfoy and his friends were behind him chuckling, all boys greeting you and wishing you a happy birthday. Marcus flung his arm around your shoulder and walked with you to get breakfast.

Once in the Great Hall, you saw Fred and his friends all laughing at the Gryffindor table and just when you were about to break free from Marcus’ hold, he pulled you back, “Oh no you don’t. You have all day to hang out with Weasley and company, but right now, you are gonna have at least one meal with your best friend.” You weren't going to argue; you didn't want to. If you wanted to sit with Fred, you wouldn't have to put up a fight, you would just do it. At your Slytherin table were Marcus’ other friends, Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs. You sat in between them and pulled your hood up when they started embarrassing you by singing a birthday song. It was starting to be a great day.

However, across the Hall was Fred glaring daggers at your best friends’ arm around you. He couldn't hear what was going on, either due to the fact that you were pretty far from where he sat, or from jealous rage. “Freddie, you alright?” George asked his brother. “Yeah, just fine, Georgie.” He couldn't stand Flint. He would be enraged with every glance towards you, every whisper in your ear during class, and every time he made you laugh. Fred was sure that Flint was in love with you, but because you grew up with him you were too blind to see it. He was convinced that at any given moment, your ‘best friend’ would take advantage of you.

What also made him upset is that not only did you let Flint wrap his arm around you, you didn't even come say hi to your boyfriend. You always came every morning to his table to give him a morning kiss and sometimes even sat at the Gryffindor table.

In potions class, you sat and waited for your boyfriend to come through the doors. You weren't sure what to expect from him. Fred is an absolute wild card and could come through those doors with anything. And no matter what he brought, he’d for sure get in trouble with Snape.

When he walked through the doors with his brother and Lee, you sat up straight in your seat and waved at him. He saw you, but instead of smiling at you and taking the seat next to yours, he just looked away and sat on the other side of the room. Did something happen? You chose to ignore it until lunch rolled around and he still hadn't come up to you to even say ‘hi’ to you. Had he forgotten your birthday? It could happen, but that doesn't explain why he looked to be in a bad mood.

Once your classes were finished, you walked up the changing stairs and said the password to the Gryffindor dorms. You remembered the updated password your boyfriend gave you the week before and it was your first time using it today.

You didn't know what to expect to see; you secretly wished that today was just a big prank and Fred had actually planned a surprise party of some sort. But when you stepped foot into the room filled with tones of red and gold, there was no party. Just Fred laughing with his friends like normal. Normal without you.

Lee’s laugh died down when he noticed you walking up to Fred. He noticed Lee getting quiet all of a sudden and asked him, “Why are you quiet all of a sudden?” He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around. “What are you doing in here?”

“Why, are Slytherins not allowed inside?” you joked. Your voice was slightly quiet and had a slight sad tone to it. “I missed you today, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. I've just been busy. Like you have,” Fred didn't mean to sound so bitter, but he was getting tired of it. He was tired of being second best to Flint.

“What are you talking about?” you asked.

“You've been with Flint all day,” Fred explained himself. You rolled your eyes, two fingers grabbing the temple of your nose from it suddenly starting to become irritated like you were. “Merlin, this again? Freddie, we talked about this. Marcus is just a friend. He's my best friend.”

Fred scoffed, “Y/N/N, you may think that but he doesn't. You trust him too much to see it, but I do. He's not just a friend.”

“You’re friends with Angelina when you know she likes you. And I know it too, but I don't say anything because I don't want to be that girlfriend who controls her boyfriends,” you were tired of playing this game with him. Your voice was heard by everyone in the room and soon enough, tons of peers had all eyes on you. Some either decided to stay, and some like Neville decided to head straight into their dorm rooms and lock the door for safety.

“Me being friends with Angelina is nothing like you being friends with Flint and you know that,” Fred raised his voice louder than anyone’s probably heard him. George and Lee silently guided people out of the common room and up to the dorms. Some people looked over the stairs to get a view of the commotion downstairs. One of them being Angelina herself when she heard her name being called out.

“No you’re right, it's different because he’s not pining over me and waiting for me to become available,” your arms were flailing about in anger, pointing at nothing to put emphasis in your words.

“How many times do I have to say I don’t like Ang? It’s never going to happen!” Angelina heard from up the staircase. Everyone heard him, loud and clear. She ran into her dorm and slammed the door so hard that you could feel the walls shake. “Great,” Fred sighed in frustration. It wasn't the ideal way to let someone down. He intended on talking to her in private without listening ears so she wouldn't be embarrassed.

“I'm not saying you like Angelina. I know you don’t like Angelina. What I’m saying is that you’re wrong about Marcus. I know he doesn't like me, you're just acting insecure,” you yelled back at him..

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to see he has feelings for you, Y/N/N,” Fred yelled, “I see the way he looks at you in every class and in the Hall. But you’re too fucking stupid to see–,” he immediately stopped what he was saying.

You couldn't believe what he was telling you right now. You could handle him calling you naive, but stupid? This was low, even for him.

You were getting stares from everyone in the common room. Your pride was more than hurt in this moment; it was destroyed. No words came from your mouth as you were completely still in your seat on the couch. Your nails dug into your skin as it was formed into a tight fist. But the worst of all was that your lips were quivering and you had to fight the tears on your birthday.

Your fucking birthday.

“Well if it bothers you so much, then fine. I'll fix the problem,” you started to speak low for only him to hear you.

“How?”

“I’ll end the problem,” a single tear escaped and trailed down your cheeks. This was the last thing you wanted to do today, but you couldn't take it anymore. He was scared to ask, but his ego got in the way, “And what's the problem?”

“Us,” you stated. He started saying something, but you couldn't hear it as you left. No, you actively ignored everything he was saying at that point. The second you were outside, you started bawling. And you kept at it all the way to the Slytherin common room and into your room.

You paced around your room rubbing your hands on your arms to try and calm yourself down, but nothing was working. Before you even processed it, your legs took you to Marcus’ room without second thought. You continuously knocked on his door until he answered, shirtless and with sweatpants that looked like they were just thrown on.

“Listen, I know it’s your birthday but that doesn't mean that you can do whatever you want–,” he focused in on your face and saw your red cheeks and puffy eyes. You looked behind him and there was a girl with him who sat in his bed looking curious. He looked back to her and just simply ordered, “Out,” which got her moving in seconds.

Once she was gone, he pulled you in and shut his door. Marcus guided you to a black leather chair in his room. “Sit,” his voice was stern, but never harsh with you. “What happened?”

As if by cue, you broke down completely. “It's o-o-over.”

“What is?” he questioned. But piecing it together, there's only one reason you'd be this upset in his room.

He never really knew what to do in situations like when you'd have your usual arguments, always just telling you that everything will be fine and you and Fred would be fine in the morning.

But now, he was feeling two things. One, slight heartache that his best friend is upset in front of him and two, nearly absolute rage that Fred is such an idiot.

Marcus started rubbing your back, “Hey, look at me.” When you shook your head no, he gently tapped on your shoulders until you did. “You are gonna be fine. Okay? You will be fine. There's plenty of other guys here–”

“I don't want to be with other guys, Marcus. I want Fred. I love Fred. But,” you shrugged up both hands, “I don't know. I don't know.” Your best friend pulled you in for a hug.

“Hey, sleep here tonight. You shouldn't be alone right now, especially today.” You nodded your head and kept crying until you couldn't anymore.

—

“HEY!” Marcus’ voice traveled beyond the corridors. Students were fleeing left and right to move out of his way as he made a straight line towards the group of Gryffindors who sat around a tree outside.

Before they could react to what was going on, Marcus punched one of the tall gingers in his abdomen. “OW, what was that for?!”

“You're going to apologize to Y/N right now,” Marcus demanded.

“You idiot, I'm George,” he corrected, still bent over and leaning on Lee for balance. “Shit, sorry.” Marcus looked at Fred and punched him in the same area quicker before Fred could block it. “You're going to apologize to Y/N.”

With a strain in his voice, Fred looked at the Slytherin in front of him, “What for, she broke up with me.”

“Okay, why? Because you're pathetic and insecure.”

“Is that what she told you?” Fred straightened himself up rubbing on the pain. “Of course she told you, she tells you everything.”

“Yeah, why wouldn't she? I'm her cousin,” Marcus pointed out. If he wasn't so mad, he would laugh at Fred's look of astonishment.

“No, you have different family names. And you don't even look related,” Fred wasn't buying it.

“That's because when I was eight, my dad married her aunt. I'm still her cousin,” Marcus explained.

“She never told me anything, how was I supposed to know?” Fred complained. George and his other friends left the two to argue by themselves but stood at a close enough distance to hear the conversation and be able to jump in if it were to get violent.

“Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you would actually pay attention to her,” Marcus used his pointer finger to push against Fred’s forehead which caused the ginger to swat his hand away. “So get over whatever complex you have and apologize. If I'm being honest, there's plenty of Slytherins that can treat her better but she wants you for some reason.”

Fred knew he was right. And it was that reason why he always felt the way he did. You were enamored by many housemates, all handsome and rich. But you didn't like any of them. You love Fred. You love the lanky, devious, modestly handsome, funny Gryffindor more than anyone you've ever met.

Fred didn't say anything and walked away. His brother was asking where he was going but he didn't answer. Before he was out of Marcus’ sight, the Slytherin said one last thing, “By the way, I hope you know it was her birthday yesterday.”

Fuck. He picked up his pace and ran towards the dungeons. Halfway there, he figured that he didn't want to show up empty handed, so he made a detour to the greenhouse to 'borrow’ some flowers from Sprout’s personal garden.

You sat on one of the couches in your common room. Across from you was Adrian and Terence, arguing about some Ravenclaw girl. Some younger students passed by and whispered amongst themselves to which you didn't pay any mind to until you heard a third year say something about a Weasley being outside.

You knew it wasn't Ron because after his second year break in with Harry, he vowed that he'd never do it again. You stood up and nearly sprinted outside.

Fred was standing awkwardly outside. He tried to get a student to ask for you to come outside but they would all just scrunch their noses in disgust and keep walking. “Annoying little–”

“What are you doing here?” you asked. Your arms were crossed and you slouched your shoulders a bit. Fred noticed how your cheeks were swollen and the bags under your eyes were tinted a rosy pink. In his left hand, there was a single, large sunflower. He raised it in front of you, hoping you would accept it. “You know I’m allergic to those, right?”

Fred’s eyes bulged out. There is no way I didn't know this. Figuring he’s had enough torture, you spoke again, “I’m joking.”

“O-oh. Heh.” You grabbed the flower from him. “I’m… really sorry. I was such an arse–”

“You are an arse,” you corrected. “Yeah, you’re right. I should have trusted Flint. I should have trusted you. And if you’d let me, I want to prove that I do.”

You released a deep sigh and rubbed your forehead. “Freddie. You have to mean it this time. I can't keep going back and forth with you like this. You can't throw a fit every time I hang out with Marcus. Or Adrian. Or Terence.”

“So is that a yes?” Fred persisted. You looked at him properly in his eyes; he seemed sincere this time. And you could only hope that he was. With a nod of your head, Fred broke into smiles and picked you up from the floor and twirled you around. Your head was still sore from all the crying the night before, but you still had a smile on your face.

When he put you down, he took the hand that wasn't holding the flower and walked with you to the Great Hall for food. “So when were you going to tell me that Flint is your cousin?”

“I figured you’d find out at a family gathering or something had you waited a little longer.” He pinched your nose in response, “And you call me devious.”

—

requests open!

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #requested #requests open #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred x reader #fred x you #fred x y/n #fred x slytherin!reader #harry potter imagine

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise!

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you. MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai: MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something: MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult.

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest. (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

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okayyy so i had something heavier/hurt-comforty in the works as a gapfiller about mickey processing (bc we all need that!!!) but this fluffy little 3+1 about ian and mickey singing to each other happened instead— i hope u enjoy💞

a 3+1 of 3 times ian sang to mickey, and one time mickey sang to ian (to give context to the absolutely wild 11x09 serenade)

also the biggest shoutout to @southside-forever’s 80s gallavich playlist which has SO many bops and inspired bits of this😌

Mickey didn’t really know when it all started— Ian was always fucking humming these days, always whistling or singing some tune under his breath when he came out of the shower. He was more buoyant recently, lighter— the security gig was going well, and these days it felt like something looming and heavy had lifted, releasing the crooked hunch out of Ian’s shoulders that had taken root the sour morning weeks before as he shoveled Fruit Loops and Jameson into his mouth. Since then, it felt like he and Ian were finally on the same goddamn page for once— like they had a purpose, like they were moving forward.

Or at least, moving forward on the weekdays— but today was a slow, lazy Saturday, and Mickey was still laying in bed in a tank top and boxers, sweaty and entangled in the crumpled sheets, laying back with his head on the pillow and playing some overly-gory sharpshooter game on his phone. He’d been trying to beat this fucking level a million times, but his thumb couldn’t move quickly enough at the pivotal moment when he had to shoot a bunch of enemy forces— he’d been at the game for a good half hour, since when Ian had sleepily stumbled off of the mattress sporting a full bedhead to go take a shower, and Mickey was starting to get a tinny, sharp headache from staring at his phone screen for too long. He was just starting to consider getting up, to peel off his sweaty tank top and head downstairs to grab some coffee— when Ian came into the room from his shower, a fraying towel wrapped around his lower half and his torso slick with excess water droplets. Mickey flickered his eyes up from his game for a moment, taking an… appreciative glance, and then quickly focused his attention back on his pixelated mission as Ian stood in front of the dresser in the cramped bedroom, and started to rustle through the drawers for a t-shirt.

Mickey maneuvered his buff video game avatar through a minefield, biting his lip in concentration— when his sharp focus was suddenly infiltrated by Ian, singing under his breath in an airy tone.

“Ooooooh we’re halfway there.”

Mickey gritted his teeth slightly and tried to pour all his attention into the pivotal moment of the level, but half of his mind was being pulled to listen to Ian’s gravelly voice, continuing to softly murmur to himself in a tone that was ridiculously off-key.

“She says we’ve gotta hoooold on, to what we’ve got—”

Mickey’s phone screen flickered. GAME OVER.

Mickey wanted to throw his phone at the fucking wall. He inhaled, then pressed “Start Game” again, one last time— and again, his focus was disrupted by Ian, singing under his breath as he pulled on his jeans and gently pattered his hands in a rhythm on the top of the dresser— which was endearing and sappy as fuck, sure, but it was not helping Mickey with the task at hand. Mickey puffed out a sharp, frustrated breath, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.

“The fuck are you singing for right now?”

Ian suddenly gave a sheepish smile over his shoulder as he rifled through their sock drawer, like he’d been caught in the middle of doing something wrong.

“Don’t know. Song was just stuck in my head I guess.”

Mickey glared at Ian, pressing his thumb to the screen to pause his game. “Cut that shit out.”

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, sitting on the edge of the mattress to pull on his socks. “You should be thanking me for serenading you with your fucking eighties dad music. I could be singing Carly Rae Jepson right now, or some other pop bullshit that you hate.”

Mickey felt an involuntary, amused smirk split onto his face, and he tried to turn it into a scowl. Fucking adorable motherfucker.

“Okay, tough guy. If anything you should be thanking me for cleansing your ears from the techno garbage that you used to listen to.”

Ian gave a soft smile, shoulders turning fully towards Mickey now that he’d finished pulling on his socks— and then he turned and clambered into the bed, hovering above Mickey and causing Mickey’s fingers to go slack around his phone case. Mickey could smell the warm, freshly-showered scent of him, all cheap bar soap and Old Spice deodorant, and felt the soft press of his t-shirt through Mickey’s thin tank top— an overly worn t-shirt, one of Mickey’s, that stretched just a little too tight over Ian’s torso.

Ian looked down at Mickey, fucking beaming for some reason, his eyes light. He swooped down, pressing a soft, quick kiss above Mickey’s eyebrow. And then—

“Take my haaaand, we’ll make it I sweeear”

Mickey felt an involuntary, uncomfortable chuckle bubble up out of his ribcage. Was Ian fucking… singing? To him? It definitely seemed like it. And as much as he didn’t want it to, because this was fucking sappy and ridiculous and… well, gay— Mickey couldn’t help the fact that his husband leaning over him, breathily singing the tune of one of their goddamn wedding songs in his husky tone-deaf voice, made Mickey’s blood run a little bit hotter; which was bullshit, because absolutely nothing about this should be hot, and it was probably the most disgustingly married thing that Mickey could think of— but apparently everything about Ian, every dorky and fucking god-awful cringey thing that he did, was a turn-on, or at least according to Mickey’s thudding heartbeat and sweaty palms right now.

Ian’s face was still hovering centimeters above his, his eyebrows raised triumphantly and sporting a sappy fucking grin, like he knew how affected Mickey was by this, no matter how much Mickey grumbled and complained and tried to hide it.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking soft, Gallagher.”

Ian just leaned down again, kissing up the slope of Mickey’s neck and biting at his earlobe—and, okay, maybe Mickey could get behind Ian’s singing after all.

Ian’s singing was starting to get fucking ridiculous— and as much as it made something deep inside Mickey feel a light pang of relief, to see Ian being his old bubbly self again in the rhythms of routine and held by the safety net of financial stability because of the security gig that made the air between them less stale, it also meant that they were also around each other pretty much 24/7, and Ian’s serenades were starting to get relentless.

While they pretty much had a common ground in liking nostalgic 80s music, they would still inevitably argue about what music to play in the ambulance every morning— and whatever shitty album they eventually chose to put on, whether it was Ian’s pop garbage of Mickey’s mellower 80s tunes, Ian’s brain would apparently absorb all the songs like a fucking sponge and he’d start singing them all day long—in the kitchen, in the shower, even when they were just laying in bed on their phones and Ian would constantly hum absentmindedly.

Today they were driving to some bougie dispensary in Glencoe, near a bunch of ridiculous mansions on the very outskirts of the city, and it was Ian’s turn to pick the music— Mickey usually elected one of the well-loved CDs that he’d jammed into the glove compartment as they were refurbishing the ambulance, CDs that he’d kept since he was a kid when he piled them high in the corner of his grimy room next to a half-broken boombox— but as much as they were Mickey’s comfort CDs, Ian could only listen to Bon Jovi so many times before he started to slander 80s music as a collective genre.

“Can we just listen to something by someone who isn’t older than us, just this once?”

“Easy for you to say, Gallagher. At least the music that I like has fucking words.”

When it was Ian’s turn to pick the music, he usually picked more modern stuff with heavy beats and a thrumming bass (though more often than not he also appeased Mickey’s tastes with some “80s throwback” playlist he’d found on Spotify that he’d noticed Mickey would bob his head along to)—but on longer drives, like this one, it was easy to butt heads about the soundtrack. Ian had allowed Mickey to play through one of his Queen CDs that morning, and then Ian had put on some whiny indie bullshit from a playlist on his phone for the other half of the drive— now they were heading home after a long day, with the stereo turned low to a local radio station.

They’d settled into a comfortable silence, as they often did at the end of the day when their energy faded— Ian had stopped pattering his hands on the steering wheel like he usually did when he was amped up and buzzing with energy in the mornings, and Mickey could tell they were both ready to collapse onto the couch the second they set foot in the door.

Mickey blew out a deflated breath and reached to turn up the radio, tuning in to some middle-aged host with a cheery voice chattering about the heat wave in Chicago that upcoming weekend—and then the airwaves went silent, and there was the overdramatic sound of a slamming door and a gospel choir.

Ian’s ears nearly fucking perked up at the sound as the opening chords began.

“Life is a mystery… Everyone must stand alone…”

Ian immediately raised his voice to join in, the tired slouch leaving his shoulders.

“I hear you call my naaaame”

He turned to Mickey and pointed overdramatically, causing Mickey to shove his arm away but unable to quell the overly fond grin that he knew was blooming on his face.

“And it feels like… home.”

The beat dropped, rolling into the chorus, and Ian energetically drummed his hands against the steering wheel once more.

“C’mon, Mick!” Ian laughed, throwing his head back dramatically as he sang while still trying to keep his eyes on the road.

“When you call my name, it’s like a little prayer, I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there.” Ian’s pitchiness clashed with the melody, but he was too focused on singing and bopping side to side in this seat to really care.

Mickey rolled his eyes, his lips still turned upwards at the corners while he watched his absolute dork of a husband jamming to Madonna. “Isn’t this song about giving someone a blowjob or some shit?”

Ian gave an easygoing laugh. “Technically, yes. And it’s also definitionally a gay anthem, which means you have to sing with me.”

Mickey scoffed and flipped Ian off. “Fuck off.”

Ian raised a playful eyebrow, and continued to sing with relentless eye contact:

“It’s like a dreeeeam, no end and no beginning”

Mickey felt heat rise into his cheeks against his will. No fucking way was he going to sing a Madonna song about a blowjob stone-cold sober at 2pm on a Tuesday while driving home from work with his fucking husband—which, wow, that was probably the gayest sentence that had ever crossed Mickey’s mind in his 26 years of existence (which was definitely saying a lot).

This wasn’t ever a place Mickey thought he’d be in— sitting beside Ian so comfortably, singing fucking songs while they drove home from their daily commute; getting to soak up all the warmth, all the brightness that had always radiated out of Ian so intensely that it nearly blinded him, a warmth that he’d always wanted to lean in closer to even when they were just scrawny kids in a shitty neighborhood still figuring everything out.

Maybe, just maybe— it was okay to lean in a little more.

By the time the chorus rolled around the third time, Mickey was begrudgingly humming along, like he usually did whenever the songs that Ian was singing on and endless loop got stuck in his own head and popped up while he was brushing his teeth or making toast for breakfast— by the time the final rhythmic chorus faded to silence on the radio waves, Mickey glanced over at Ian, singing at the top of his lungs, face slightly flushed and grinning ear to ear.

“Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there.”

Ian and Mickey were walking down the moonlit sidewalk, veering back home after an evening at Lip’s— the night had honestly been weirdly enjoyable, which was definitely a welcome reprieve from all of Lip and Debbie’s intense back-and-forths about the house over the past few weeks. Tami and Lip had needed to go over to Brad and Cami’s for some bullshit crisis management about the stolen bikes, and Ian had readily agreed to watch Freddie— which meant that whether he liked it or not, Mickey had spent his Friday evening at Lip’s half-packed apartment watching Ian coo over a one-year-old, which was… not a totally unwelcome sight.

Trying to keep his shit together, Mickey had snapped a picture to send to the Gallagher family group chat, and everyone had immediately given them shit about being so eager to babysit and get their hands on a toddler like a couple of baby-crazed newlyweds—which had caused Mickey to start overzealously complaining in the groupchat to compensate while Ian occupied Freddie. Kev had noticed the texts and swung by Lip and Tami’s house after closing the Alibi to keep the two of them company, bringing by a pack of beers—and now he and Ian were warm and happily buzzed, relieved of their babysitting duties and walking the chilly city streets back towards the Gallagher house.

Halfway through the walk Ian had interlaced their fingers, and now their arms were swinging slightly as they turned the final corner to walk down the last stretch of pavement towards the chain-link fence—when suddenly, Ian stopped cold a few houses away from the Gallagher front porch. He looked down at Mickey, raising their entangled hands and pressing a kiss to the inside of Mickey’s wrist.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Ian just looked back at him—his cheeks glowing pink from the few beers, his eyes light and unguarded under the streetlamps.

“This spot reminded me of something.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. Of fucking course it did. Ian was a sappy motherfucker on the best of days, but with a couple of beers in him he was practically uncontrollable.

“What?”

All of a sudden Ian let go of his hand, punching into the air dramatically.

“Cause love is a battlefiiiield”

Mickey laughed, feeling warm hot blood rush to his cheeks in delight—and fuck, he loved his husband so goddamn much. And just this once, mostly because of the own alcohol running thick in his bloodstream, Mickey made the lurching decision to join in, stepping closer towards Ian and raising his hands equally as dramatically.

“No promises, no demands”

“Woooooah”

Ian had practically doubled over with laughter, tears welling in the corner of his eyes—and Mickey let himself get lost in it, the warm feeling buzzing through his body, of love and joy and fuck knows what else, getting to sing on a fucking street corner with his husband a decade after everything had gone so gut-wrenchingly wrong, leaving him bleeding on this same pavement.

They stumbled over their own feet up the stairs, fumbling out of their clothes and collapsing into bed—and later, just as Mickey was on the brink of fading into unconsciousness, Ian mumbled the same refrain into the crook of Mickey’s neck in a sleepy voice, like the song was still stuck in his head and he just couldn’t help it.

“Love is a battlefield.”

It was late— it was one of those slow, tender nights when the past was hanging heavy over them, laying pressed together in bed as thin streams of moonlight poured in through the blinds, pressing whispers into each other’s skin about all of the hurt and the doubt that had been seeped up and healed with time.

Ian was sprawled back on the bed and Mickey was laying with his head resting on his chest, feeling his ribcage expand and contract each time he took a breath. They’d absorbed so much the past few weeks— the sick, twisted blows of a loss that felt all the more jagged and painful because of how muddled the grief for Terry was—but after a few days had passed they’d found a place to settle, in the comforting press of the silence in their bedroom.

Mickey was mindlessly playing with Ian’s fingers, listening to his steady breathing—and without thinking, he ran a finger over the cool silver of Ian’s wedding band, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“I still can’t believe we’re married sometimes, man.”

Mickey could feel Ian’s lips curve upward into a smile from where his mouth was pressed against the top of Mickey’s head.

“Yeah, me either.”

And Mickey felt something bubbling, something welling— and he didn’t ever fucking sing, not unless Ian made him, but Ian was always fucking dropping song lines into sappy moments like this.

So he took a breath, and, half-singing but mostly talking, in a way that sounded almost mocking if it wasn’t so soft around the edges, he let out into the dark silence of the room:

“At last….”

He wasn’t even singing, not really—he was just sort of… saying the words in a singsongy way, but he knew that Ian could tell what he was doing, what he was trying to do. He was trying to be as fucking sweet and soft and pliant as Ian was, as Ian always was in moments like this, in a way that sometimes made Mickey feel brittle and hard in comparison. This time, Mickey wanted to breathe out the love he had for him into this moment, the love that made his ribcage feel like it was going to fucking burst— a love that he felt erupting outwards when Ian had played this song for him for the first time a few weeks before the wedding, and had asked with a shy smile, “D’you think it’d be okay if you walked down the aisle to this song?”

Ian’s chest shook with laughter, and he carded a hand through Mickey’s hair. And then, in his gentle, sleep-soft voice, in a breathy tone that tickled the shell of Mickey’s ear:

“My looove has come along”

Mickey rolled his eyes fondly, just to prove something to himself, even though he knew Ian couldn’t see him—and then he reached a hand upward and leaned back, drawing Ian’s chin forward to press his lips to his for a brief, lingering moment.

Mickey settled back against Ian’s chest again, and felt Ian press a kiss to the top of his head. He smiled contentedly, closing his heavy eyelids.

Maybe being a couple of sappy motherfuckers wasn’t so bad.

#i wrote this so fast bc it is midterms szn and i am a busy bee! but simply needed to get this out of my brain #i love y’all and hope u enjoy the softness!!#also @ the anon asked me for more drunk happy husbands here u go<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian x mickey #ixm #ian and mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich fanfiction

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

Text

The Mercer Legacy - Part 2

Pairings: Reggie x Luke x Reader, Willex

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: swearing

a/n: ahhh here’s part 2 of The Mercer Legacy!! I have been super busy and also told myself I wouldn’t write more of this until Sunset Swerve was finished (which it’s technically not bc it’s still missing an epilogue but shhhh) but I’m really excited to share this with y’all!! As always, please let me know what you think and comment/send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!! Oh, let’s all pretend that Luke and Reggie are in their concert blacks backstage at the event from Part 1 in the second edit, thanks :)

Part 1 Masterlist TML Masterlist

___

You met at the place where your front lawns touched, both of you storming out of your houses at the same time to confront each other.

“I can’t believe you lied to me!”

“I can’t believe you tricked me!”

You both paused, having yelled at each other at the same time and needing a moment to comprehend what the other had said.

“Really?” You spoke first, quirking a brow and pursing your lips as you stared down your best friend. “You’re going to whine about a harmless prank when you’ve been living a freaking Hannah Montana double life?!”

“A Hannah Montana double life?” Alex repeated as if he couldn’t believe those were words that had just come out of your mouth.

“Yeah, asshole. You’ve got secret cute friends, you’re in a secret band-“

“Actually can we talk about this inside?” He cut you off, looking around frantically as if he just remembered that you were outside and anyone could hear you.

You glared at him for interrupting but turned to lead the way back towards your house.

“Now I understand how Lily felt,” you grumbled and you could practically hear Alex roll his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

___

“So what I still don’t understand is why you didn’t just tell me all of this to begin with,” you finally spoke after Alex explained to you everything about meeting the guys and forming the band. You were sat across from each other on your bed, normally you’d sit side-by-side against the pillows or cuddle but this was serious. “Do you not trust me?”

Alex snapped his head up at that, looking you straight in the eyes as he spoke.

“No! Y/N, of course, that’s not it! You know you’re my best friend, I’d trust you with my life!” He rushed to reassure you.

“Then why not this?”

Alex sighed.

“I don’t know, it just...it all happened really fast and telling you slipped my mind and then it seemed too late to tell you and I just- I didn’t want you to be mad at me,” he rambled and you shook your head fondly.

“You’re an idiot, you know that right?”

“That’s why I need you, you have all the brains,” he was quick to respond, breaking out the innocent look he usually reserved for parents.

“Kiss ass,” you grumbled but gesture for him to join you against the pillows anyway.

“I’m glad you know now,” Alex said quietly as he settled next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. “Don’t replace me with Luke and Reggie though.”

You laughed at that, quickly reassuring him that you could never before pulling out your phone.

“What’re you doing?” Alex asked curiously, trying to get a look at the screen.

“I’m changing your contact name to Hannah Montana,” you answered simply as you tapped away on your phone, doing just that.

“Oh my gosh, seriously? You’re never gonna let that go are you?” He groaned.

“Listen, I really don’t think you’re appreciating how clever that was. I’m a genius.”

“Of course, my genius best friend,” Alex teased, hugging you closer to him briefly.

You nuzzled your head into his shoulder, grateful for the show of affection. You knew Alex wasn’t a very physical person so the fact that he was comfortable enough with you to express his affection in this manner was huge. You always joked that he was the brother you’d never asked for and it was like he caught the cuddle bug when the two of you hung out. You’d spent many an afternoon or sleepover cuddled up just like this.

“Oh! I should probably text the guys and let them know you’re alive,” you spoke after a moment, reaching for your phone once more.

“The guys,” Alex repeated in disbelief at the casual reference to Luke and Reggie before the rest of your statement registered in his mind. “Wait, let them know what?!”

“Shhhh, it’s fine,” you waved him off as you sent a text in your group chat. “I just might’ve threatened your life for lying to me.”

“You threat- y’know what, I shouldn’t even be surprised anymore,” he sighed exasperatedly.

“You really shouldn’t,” you laughed. “Luke says you’re late for band practice.”

“Oh shit!” Alex exclaimed, sitting up suddenly, the movement forcing you to sit up as well. “I gotta go- wait, do you wanna come with? I’m sure the rest of the group won’t mind.”

“Do I want to come... y’know I was joking about me having all the brains in this friendship but now I’m starting to think it’s true,” you huffed as you followed your best friend out of the room.

___

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” Alex apologized as he rushed into the garage where the band apparently practiced.

Upon entry, you found the garage had been converted to a well-lit and nicely decorated studio, equipped with everything you assumed a band of high schoolers could need. As you followed Alex in he gestured over to a couple of armchairs and a couch clustered across from the band setup for you to sit in before he quickly made his way behind the drum set.

“No problem man, we know you were making up with- y/n!” Luke exclaimed, catching sight of you seated in one of the chairs in front of him.

“What’re you doing here?” Reggie blurted out, having spun around to face you when Luke had said your name and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Um, Alex said I could come watch you practice?” You tried to explain but it came out as more of a question in your flustered state. “He didn’t think you guys would mind but if you do I can just head back home...”

You moved to stand up from your chair but the boys were quick to stop you.

“No!” They shouted simultaneously. Thank goodness for guitar straps because each boy nearly dropped their instrument in their haste to keep you from leaving.

“You just... caught us off guard. That’s all,” Luke explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you heard Alex groan from the back, drawing your attention.

“What’s up?” You called back to him, settling back into your seat and sending Luke and Reggie a grateful smile before giving your best friend your undivided attention.

“Huh? Oh! I, uh, one of my sticks looks like it’s starting to crack,” he excused, sounding like he hadn’t meant to be heard. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him, knowing he was leaving something out but you wouldn’t push it. At least not in front of Luke and Reggie. “Anyways, where’s Jules?”

“She just ran inside to grab some water,” Reggie answered, and if on cue the studio doors opened and a smaller girl carrying an armful of water bottles who you assumed must be Julie stepped in.

“Y’know, one of you guys could’ve offered to help,” she huffed, walking over to each of the three boys to hand them a bottle.

Like Luke and Reggie, it took her a moment to notice your presence as she jumped slightly when she turned around and spotted you. You smiled sheepishly, feeling that embarrassed heat rise into your face once again.

“You must be Y/N!” She exclaimed, grinning at you. “I’m Julie. Do you want a water?”

You graciously accepted the offer from the curly-haired girl, thankful that she didn’t seem to mind that you were there. After making sure you felt welcome Julie was all business, getting the band started on their rehearsal. The same could not be said for the guys.

Luke was the first to start goofing off while Reggie had been pointedly averting his gaze whenever you looked at him. It was a complete tone shift from the confident boy who had winked at you at the debutante ball but Luke’s showing off seemed to empower him. The brunet, on the other hand, hadn’t wasted any time doing silly rockstar moves and adding in guitar riffs that you could tell weren’t typically apart of the songs by Alex and Julie’s fond but exasperated expressions. Not long after, Reggie joined in on the shenanigans, the two boys competing for your attention.

For his part, Alex did seem to be doing his best to maintain his professionalism but, well, once Luke and Reggie started acting out you weren’t surprised that he followed. You thought it was cute, your best friend was jealous. Whether it was because he thought you were stealing his friends or they were stealing you was yet to be seen, but you thought it was endearing despite knowing that he had nothing to worry about.

Well, maybe he had to worry about you stealing Luke and Reggie. Despite not knowing them for very long the two boys had quickly grown on you and you were grateful for opportunities like sitting in on band practice to get to spend more time with them, even if you weren’t talking or interacting with them directly. You got the feeling that music was a language of their own, especially for Luke. Even as he did everything in his power to gain and keep your attention you could tell that each song was important to him.

You were surprised and bummed when they finished rehearsing, your personal mini-concert over. However, you hadn’t realized practice being over didn’t mean you had to go home. Apparently, the guys often stayed late in Julie’s garage just hanging out.

“So, what exactly do your parents think you’re doing when you’re here?” You asked Alex much later, having just noticed the sun had long since set and wondering how the boy had escaped his parents’ curiosity and strictness for so long.

You had migrated to the couch at some point in the evening, your legs draped across Luke’s lap as you stretched out on the sofa. Reggie and Alex occupied the two closest armchairs.

“Usually I just say I’m at your house,” Alex shrugged and you sat up abruptly, staring at him as if he were insane (which, by the way, he was).

“And you never thought to tell me that I was your alibi?” You questioned in disbelief. “What if they had checked in?!”

“They wouldn’t have checked in.”

“They’re helicopter parents!”

“But they trust me,” Alex smirked and you huffed.

“Right. How could I forget you’re the Golden Boy. Every parent to ever exists trusts you immediately by default,” you groaned, flopping back onto the couch dramatically.

The guys all laughed at that and you smirked victoriously to yourself, proud that you were able to do that. The boys led the conversation after that with you jumping in occasionally, just content to be there. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before your eyelids grew heavy and you decided to close them, believing you could still listen and participate in the conversation with your eyes shut.

The boys didn’t realize you were asleep until Luke felt you shiver, your legs still laying across his lap. He looked over to find you with your eyes closed, a peaceful expression on your face, and goosebumps all over your arms. You were freezing.

Realizing that there were no blankets nearby, Luke began to slowly shrug off his flannel so as to not disturb you. The same flannel that Alex had made fun of him for wearing because “It’s June in LA and it’s a million degrees out.” Well, suck it, Alex, because now he was able to drape it across your torso.

A warm, fluttering feeling erupted in his chest when you unconsciously grasped onto the fabric, snuggling further into the material.

At this point, Alex and Reggie had caught on to the fact that you had fallen asleep and while the boys did resume their conversation, there was a noticeable shift in volume. Luke flinched the next time he felt you move, thinking their talking had woke you up. However, he looked to see that your eyes were still closed, no signs of consciousness to be found in your features and he let out a small sigh of relief.

“Hey, Reg can you go grab a blanket from the loft?” Luke asked, looking away from you to give his friend his signature puppy dog eyes.

It turned out he didn’t need to though as Reggie had already jumped up from his seat and started making his way quickly and quietly to the ladder. He made it up and down from the loft with no troubles but it didn’t last. Barely two steps away from the ladder Reggie tripped, falling into Alex’s drum set. Luke and Alex watched with wide eyes as at the last minute the boy attempted to launch himself in the opposite direction, not wanting to damage the drums and he nearly managed to save it, until he knocked the high-hat over with his foot.

The cymbals hit the ground with a loud crash and you startled awake, eyes flying open and heart racing at the sound.

“What the fuck was that?” You gasped, sitting up as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. “Was I asleep?”

“That was Reggie knocking over the cymbals and yeah, you were knocked out,” Luke chuckled, smiling lightly at you. Alex had already jumped up, rushing to the back to make sure his high-hat and friend were okay.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay Reg?” You asked, your head snapping to the band set-up just in time to see the boy in question stand up, brushing off his pants before carefully making his way back to you.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he replied cheerily before handing you the waded-up ball of fabric. “I was grabbing you a blanket, you were shivering in your sleep.” He explained softly and your heart warmed at the gesture.

“Aww babes, that’s so sweet,” you cooed accepting the blanket from the blushing boy even though you were no longer sleeping. As you set down the blanket you noticed Luke’s flannel already laying in your lap and you felt heat rise to your cheeks at the realization that he must have placed it over you in your sleep.

“Babes?” Alex repeated as he walked back, looking at you funny and you sent a puzzled look back.

“What? I used to call you babe all the time before you got permanently relegated to ‘asshole.’” Alex rolled his eyes at that while Luke and Reggie chuckled.

“Okay, it’s time to go,” Alex huffed, pulling you off the couch and you pouted.

“Well, bye I guess!” You whined, waving at the boys while Alex tried to forcibly remove you from the garage as quickly as possible. “Asshole.” You cursed him quietly under your breath.

Part 3

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @bright-molina @reg-peters @calamitykaty

TML Taglist: @bright-patterson @marinettepotterandplagg @everyonesannoyedwithme @dream-a-little-bigger-x @percico-heronstairs @starjane312 @ifilwtmfc @jatphatones @cherrymaybank @sorrowfulfragmentation @stargazing-dreamer-girl @daisybutterlions @mynameisntluke

#jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #alex mercer #willex #reggie peters #luke patterson #peterpatter x reader #reggie x luke x reader #jatp au #reggie x reader #luke x reader #ruke x reader #peterpatter #ruke

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sapphosclown · 3 years

Text

Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.”

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

#idk if the description is accurate like it is but i also don’t know what’s going on i wrote this in one day #hope you enjoyed anyways lol #i love them #and this song is them idc #willex week #willex #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #jatp #willex oneshot #willex fic #netflixwewantjatp2 #renew julie and the phantoms

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gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

[The Pack Next Door] Wooyoung: Sorry Not Sorry (Part One)

(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki)

Characters: Wooyoung x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, brother’s best friend au, not really fluffy but there’s no angst until the very end

Word count: 1,788

Summary: Everyone knows that werewolves can’t control who they imprint on, no matter what they think their preferences might be. But despite that, Jongho can’t help but absolutely loathe Wooyoung because the older boy went and imprinted on his older sister.

a/n: reader is obviously written to be older than jongho so if you dont like that bc it doesn’t apply to you, im sorry but oh well. also i don’t have any sort of update schedule so updates are gonna be way slower than they were for mingi’s lmao

Next | Sorry Not Sorry Masterlist

For a long time, Wooyoung was just your younger brother’s annoying friend. You were three years older than Jongho, so while you weren’t too far apart in age, you were just far enough that while growing up, you found your younger brother and his best friend absolutely annoying and obnoxious. And it seemed to be one of Wooyoung’s favorite activities was annoying you or pranking you with your brother.

Eventually, the three of you were grown-up enough that Jongho and Wooyoung didn’t bother you as often. You both were still in school -- you in high school while the pair was just starting middle since Wooyoung ended up staying back a year in grade school -- and while you did often see Wooyoung around your house during afternoons and weekends, his presence didn’t annoying you nearly as much as it used to.

It wasn’t until Jongho was 15 and Wooyoung was 16 that you realized just how accustomed you’d gotten to having Wooyoung around, because you stopped seeing him. He was no longer on the couch with your brother, yelling at the video games they’d play on the TV after school. You no longer walked into the kitchen to see him rummaging through your fridge like he was in his own house. Wooyoung just...stopped coming around.

And Jongho was noticeably sadder, too.

“What happened to Jung Wooyoung?” you had asked him after about a week of no sign of your brother’s best friend.

Jongho sighed, looking more depressed than ever after hearing you mention his best friend since childhood, “He was sent away.”

“Sent away?” you repeated with furrowed brows. “Where? Why?”

“His parents said they sent him away to an all-boys school because he was acting out,” he explained.

Maybe Wooyoung acted differently at his own home than he did at your house, but you didn’t think the younger boy acted out at all. Maybe when he was a child, but he’d been fine the last 5-ish years. It didn’t make sense to you, but then again, you didn’t know Wooyoung very well.

However, you didn’t know it, but you were right. Wooyoung hadn’t been acting out at all. His parents wouldn’t tell anybody, but they’d actually kicked Wooyoung out of their home and sent him away to live with his uncle whom they’d disowned from their family because he was a werewolf.

And so was Wooyoung.

Wooyoung had gone missing for about three of those days that he wasn’t around your house. It was something most teenagers who first shifted would do, unsure what else to do after becoming a giant wolf. His parents had a feeling what had happened since his father had seen it happen with his brother. When Wooyoung had eventually returned, his parents confronted him about what happened, and the poor boy was immediately shunned and sent away. But when Jongho went to ask, they lied and said he went to a different school far away now.

Jongho was sure without any type of contact with his best friend, he’d never see Wooyoung again.

But you never thought much of him again. Jongho did eventually make new friends, and while he didn’t talk about him often anymore, he did think of Wooyoung every now and then, recalling the good times they had and wondering what he was doing with his new life. But you carried on with your life, eventually going off to college and only seeing Jongho when you went back home to visit.

There was one instance where Jongho had come to you at your apartment, though. He was sweaty and out of breath, seeming panicked. His eyes were a scary crimson that had you gasping and stepping back from him, unsure why they looked like that. But he kept saying he didn’t know where to go or what to do.

That was when you found out Jongho was a werewolf. You weren’t sure what to do with that information, either, but you helped him go to your parents with the information. Your mother had said her great grandfather was one, but they weren’t sure if anyone else in their family would get what they expected to be the werewolf gene. But thankfully, they were accepting and went to your grandmother for some help and advice.

During his time in college, Jongho had found some new friends that he started living off campus with. They seemed to make him happy, and he spoke about them like they were family. He had confirmed they were his pack, and you were happy that he managed to find them. You thought it was sweet that your brother had new friends in college that he cared about and who seemed to care about him, as well.

“Oh, and hey, do you remember Jung Wooyoung?” Jongho asked while he was first gushing about his friends.

“That little twerp you were friends with since forever?” you chuckled.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Well, he's in it too! He lives with them!”

Your eyebrows raised in surprised, “Wow. It’s been years since you’ve seen him.”

“I know!”

“It’s like you two were meant to be brothers this whole time,” you told him with a laugh. “That’s kind of crazy. Fate’s really amazing, huh...”

“You should come visit sometime. I think you’ll really like the guys. Hongjoong’s really cool, and Yunho’s pretty goofy but he’s sweet. San’s kinda flirty but he’s really nice and stuff when you get to know him. I think you’ll get along well with Seonghwa and Yeosang, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you were always no fun growing up,” he teased.

But you did eventually go visit your brother. It had been a little while since you’d seen him anyway, so you figured why not. Besides, he seemed really excited about his pack and especially getting to reconnect with his childhood best friend. Honestly, you were a little bit curious to see how Wooyoung grew up.

What you didn’t expect when you arrived was to see Jung Wooyoung for the first time since you were in high school, and see him as so much more than just your little brother’s annoying friend.

Jung Wooyoung had grown up to be more handsome than you could’ve even imagined if you’d ever bothered to remember him. As soon as your eyes landed on him as he walked out the door to catch up with the pack while your brother excitedly greeted you from the driveway, you felt a massive crush on him hit you. And if this was what your grandmother had told you, Jongho, and your parents about, this was something more serious than just a human crush.

For Wooyoung, his entire world stopped. All he saw was you in his vision, everyone and everything else falling away. His heart was beating out of his chest, his palms suddenly felt clammy, and he had the strong urge to run right up to you and just wrap you up in his arms.

He had imprinted on his childhood best friend’s sister.

Thankfully, with Jongho’s excitement to introduce you to the pack, he hadn’t picked up on that. However, the same couldn’t be said for the pack. Seonghwa easily noticed, Hongjoong had a very strong suspicion, and Yeosang thought it was so painfully obvious that he couldn’t believe that Jongho didn’t realize when he had re-introduced the two of you and you finally had to properly acknowledge each other.

Yunho was the only one who didn’t notice, thinking that was just how Wooyoung was. He was very flirty with, well, just about anybody. So the older boy didn’t have reason to think anything of it.

But it was silently decided that nobody would tell Jongho about it. Neither you nor Wooyoung knew how to tell him. Jongho had become very protective of you ever since becoming a werewolf, so not only were you afraid of possibly upsetting him, but Wooyoung definitely was. Not only was Jongho his brother now, but they had been best friends since they could remember, and they had finally reuinted. He didn’t want to ruin their relationship, and neither did you. And since neither of you ever said anything, the rest of the pack knew it wasn’t their place.

Eventually, another werewolf came into the picture: Song Mingi. He was tall, a little awkward, but very sweet and funny. He had imprinted on his best friend, Aera, who he hadn’t told yet and insisted everyone associated with the pack never speak of it to her -- that included you. You weren’t at the pack house often -- Wooyoung would simply sneak out to visit you at your apartment because that was way easier -- but you were glad that Mingi’s situation overshadowed your own. The less attention on you and Wooyoung, the better.

Until Mingi ended up telling Aera, and then someone had to go and open their big, stupid mouth and ruin everything for you.

Jongho had invited you over for dinner to sort of ‘celebrate’ Mingi finally telling Aera after however many years that she was his mate. They, like Jongho and Wooyoung, had grown up together and were best friends throughout their whole lives. You were shocked Mingi managed to keep his secret for so long, but you were happy for him that he finally told her. Besides, Aera was always so laid back and relaxed. You figured she’d be fine with the whole situation.

“I still can’t believe you made a mistake that stupid,” you chuckled as the pack launched joke after joke toward Mingi’s lapse of thought which caused Aera to find out. “Even I know to be more careful than that.”

“Yeah, but you have family that’ve been telling you about werewolves since Jongho was in high school,” Mingi pouted. “My parents still don’t even know.”

“Guess they’re next on the list of people to tell,” Yeosang joked lightly, knowing Mingi was getting a little grumpy from all the teasing.

Yunho snorted before laughing, “Where are Wooyoung and _____ on that list?”

However, the joke that was meant to lighten the mood only made it worse. The air seemed to thicken almost immediately as everyone but the oblivious werewolf froze, eyes unsure if they wanted to look at you, Wooyoung, Jongho, or just continue staring at the table. It was so silent after Yunho’s laughter turned awkward and then quickly died down that even you could’ve heard a pin drop from outside. But after what felt like an eternity of just dead silence, something finally broke it that made you wish you’d continued to just sit in the quiet.

“What?” Jongho asked sharply.

From the end of the table, you heard Mingi mumble, “What was that about stupid mistakes?”

219 notes · View notes

ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.

#falcon #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #mcu #marvel #falcon falcon goose!#sam wilson imagine #falcon imagine #bucky barnes #please don’t judge this mess

79 notes · View notes

skiller0dani · 3 years

Text

As You Go | Ethan Nestor

M A S T E R L I S T YouTube Masterlist

angsty smut requests info

I’ve always had a thing for Ethan. So I decided to incorporate him, hope you guys like it! If there are any other YouTubers you want me to write about lmk! I promise I’m going to start chipping away at my requests, I love you all. I had to get this out of my system, because this song (and this one too) hella inspired me to write a piece based on it. also this gif is doing things to me. look at Ethan. his chest, his legs, his arms, his e v e r y t h i n g.

also I kept the smut short bc I’m not sure how people will respond to it, if you guys like it I’ll write more (much longer) Ethan smut.

Mark promised to give Ethan the space he needed, but he just couldn’t help reaching out. While what happened wasn’t necessarily Mark’s fault, Ethan’s anger was being directed at both you and Mark. The guilt that had made a home in Mark’s chest was enough to cripple him, and he was borderline desperate for Ethan’s forgiveness. He texted, he called, he even emailed Ethan. Despite Amy advising Mark to give Ethan the space he desperately needed, he just couldn’t. In reality, it truly wasn’t Mark’s fault- but he still feels responsible for what you did that night. Ethan had shut himself in his house, and Mark hadn’t heard from him in nearly a week. It was killing him. It was just a mistake, it didn’t mean anything. At least it sure as hell didn’t mean anything to Mark, how could Ethan believe Mark wanted it? He has Amy- he loves Amy.

“I have to go see him.” Mark says decisively as he reaches for his car keys. But Amy reaches for them first.

“He doesn’t want to see you.” The truth of it stings, it causes Mark to flinch.

“I don’t care, he only knows what he saw.” Mark snaps, the pain from the memory flooding back in.

“And what he saw traumatized him Mark, you need to give him time. He’ll come around. I told Y/N the same thing.” Amy explains, a firm look in her eyes. Mark felt emotion swell in his throat as tears misted in his eyes. “Think about how he must be feeling, he trusted the two of you more than anyone else. Ethan was never worried about leaving you and Y/N alone and then-”

“She kissed me!” Mark cried desperately, leaning against the kitchen counter. “He has to know that and I don’t think he does.” Amy feels for Mark, she does. She knows it wasn’t his fault, but it still hurts. It’s the pain that leads Amy to protect Ethan above everyone else. The pain he must be feeling right now, Amy tears up thinking about how hurt he must be. She turns, “just leave him alone. Let him come to you.” She then saunters off, keys in hand. The last thing he needs is Mark at his doorstep.

Ethan sits curled on the couch, his knees brought up to his chest. He has so many questions, and he’s too damn afraid to find out the answers. How long has that been going on? How long have you been into Mark? Was your entire relationship a lie? Were you just trying to get closer to Mark? Why didn’t Mark tell him? He should have seen it coming, why would anyone choose him when he’s friends with Mark? Pretending to love him gave you the perfect opportunity to get closer to Mark. The numbness of this entire week is what Ethan was the most surprised by, he expected to cry, to scream, to break everything in sight. But he didn’t- he sat and he did nothing. Said nothing. Went nowhere, he barely even ate.

Everything about that night replays in Ethan’s mind. It was a late shooting for Unus Annus, and you’d usually tagged along. That never bothered Ethan before. It should have.

You had participated in a drinking video for Unus Annus, since Mark couldn’t drink. You didn’t want Ethan to be drunk alone, and that’s how you found yourself in the predicament you were in now. You were in Mark and Amy’s spare bedroom, the room swaying slightly. The headache you’d had earlier was slowly ebbing away, the alcohol and the dark room helping. The door opened, someone had said they’d bring you some Advil. Through the darkness you slid your hands onto Ethan’s shoulders, he said nothing but you felt him stiffen as you did so. You giggled drunkenly when you felt him try to pry your hands off him. Why was he being so shy?

“Eef c’mon,” You sighed as you pressed your body against his. You wound your hands through his dark hair, and he only pulled away further. “Uh- I-I’m, well I’m not-” He was stammering, normally you never caught him so off-guard with your affection. His hands were firmly on your waist, and you could have sworn he was trying to push you away. Your brain felt hazy as you leaned into him, your lips planting firmly on his. He went completely stiff, what’s the matter with Ethan tonight? The light flicks on in the next second and you pull away from Ethan, your eyes squinting in the bright light.

“What the hell?” You hear Ethan say softly, his voice distant and wrought with an emotion you couldn’t identify. You looked up at the man you were pressed against and your eyebrows furrowed as you locked eyes with...Mark. “Mark.” You’d meant it to sound like a question but you’re pretty sure it sounded like a statement. You swayed back drunkenly, causing Mark’s hands to fly out and steady you.

“Ethan-” Mark started worriedly as Ethan turned out of the spare bedroom.

“Were you Mark this whole time?” You slur, watching the panic settle in Mark’s eyes. “Where’s Ethan?” You ask again, pulling away from Mark. This all felt like some vivid hallucination. You collapsed onto the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. You’re barely conscious when you hear Amy call Ethan’s name, seconds before the front door slammed.

You were drunk, you didn’t mean it. That’s what Ethan keeps saying over and over, yet he doesn’t really believe it. A few stray tears cascade down Ethan’s cheeks when he hears banging on the front door. He wished whoever it was would go away, but still he drug himself to the front door and looked through the peephole.

Mark.

He’d been dodging Mark’s attempts to contact him for a week now, and Ethan knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid Mark forever. So he opened the door, to find a slightly panicked, slightly relieved Mark standing in front of him. Ethan stood in the doorway, keeping the door against his side. Mark wrung his hands together as he searched for the words to say. “Can I come in?” It’s all he can think of- he just wants a chance to explain himself. Ethan nods curtly, opening the door for Mark to enter.

“What do you want?” Ethan asks, trying his best to keep himself physically and emotionally distant from Mark. Mark stood in the doorway, feeling emotion steadily rising in his chest once more. “I-I had no idea she would kiss me! I was just bringing her Advil, she was really drunk Ethan, she didn’t even know it was me. She thought it was you! She even said your name, it was dark in there!” Mark huffs in one breath and Ethan doesn’t know how to respond. He nodded before turning to lean against the couch.

“Honestly I don’t care how it happened Mark, that doesn’t change anything. It still happened regardless, and knowing why doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Ethan says, his voice soft. Ethan never thought of himself as cynical, but right now he felt like all the color was draining out of the world. The betrayal he feels almost feels as though it’s been branded onto him. Something he will never be able to leave behind, no matter what happens in the future, he’ll never be able to forget that this happened.

“I’m sorry Ethan, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Mark says again, feeling panic growing in his chest. Ethan nods as he rubs a hand down his face. He turns to Mark, he wants to forgive Mark. His friendship is too valuable to Ethan to lose. He reaches out for Mark and wraps his arms around him, and he feels Mark release a breath. “I’m so- so sorry.” Ethan wraps his arms around Mark tighter, “I know.”

Forgiving Mark felt good, it brought Ethan some respite through the hardest time in his life. But another week had passed and he still couldn’t bring himself to answer your texts or calls, or open the door when you came by. He didn’t know how he could be around you without feeling all the pain come rushing back in. You kissed Mark. But he gave Mark a chance, and he knew sooner or later he’d have to give you a chance too. That’s why he texted you, and told you to come over. Ethan felt his palms sweating, it was like he couldn’t even breathe. The seconds seemed to tick by so slowly, and while he was still so angry and hurt... he couldn’t deny how excited he was to see you again.

When the doorbell rang, it was almost embarrassing how quickly Ethan was answering the door. You carefully made your inside and for a few minutes you and Ethan did nothing other than stare at each other. In an instant Ethan had reached forward and brought his lips to yours. He knew he’d never be able to trust you again, he knew the relationship was over. But before you go, he needs to feel you around him one more time. He needs to feel your skin against his. You melt into him, your lips moving with his as Ethan’s hand slide down your back to your legs. He tugs on your legs, signaling you to jump. Offering a little jump, Ethan wraps your legs around his waist as he presses you against the nearest wall.

You moan softly as Ethan trails desperate kisses down the column of your neck, his hands resting firmly on your ass. His movements are quick, almost desperate as he gently grinds against you. You moan again as your hands tangle in his hair, this wasn’t what you were expecting when he asked you to come over. You missed him, you missed this. Ethan’s lips trail back up to yours as he keeps turns and leans you down against the couch. His hands dance down your body to the waistband of your leggings, quickly yanking them down your body. “God Ethan I missed you.” You moaned, and for a second Ethan almost forgets. He almost forgets what you did. He nearly lost himself in the tender suppleness of your skin. Ethan nearly lost himself in the heat coming from between your legs.

Ethan doesn’t respond as his hand delves between your legs. His fingers dancing between your folds as you desperately fumble with the buckle of his belt. Eventually you pull it through the loops, already helping him unbutton his jeans as he leans over you again. He’s going to miss your skin against his, among so many other more meaningful things. He’s going to miss how your nose scrunches up when you laugh, or how you would play with his hair when he was stressed. Most of all he’s going to miss how safe he felt when he was with you, he’ll never feel like that with you again. You destroyed any sense of security he ever felt with you the second you pressed your lips against Mark’s. Once his jeans were around his ankles, Ethan kicked them off before slowly pressing his head into you.

He pulls you up against his chest, his head pressed into your neck as he slowly slides into you inch by inch. You hold desperately to him, moaning softly against his clothed shoulder as he gently stretches you open. You wind your legs around his waist as he slides out slowly before bottoming out again. Ethan sets a slow and steady pace, his breath fanning against your neck and your eyes are screwed shut as Ethan slowly pushes into you again and again. The pleasure building inside you is overwhelming and soon you’re panting against Ethan as he picks up his pace only slightly. Ethan drives into you again and again until you feel that winding coil inside you snap and you cum hard around him. Ethan offers a few more forceful thrusts before cumming into you, thank god for birth control.

Ethan is silent after he pulls out, and there’s a somber look on his face. You try to reach up to cup his cheek in your palm but he turns away from you. You lean up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his jeans back up. “I can’t trust you. Maybe it’s selfish of me but I just needed to feel you one last time.” Your eyebrows furrow together as your heart breaks in your chest. Is Ethan...breaking up with you? You quickly pull your leggings up, “Ethan...I’m sorry I am.”

“I know, but I can’t be in a relationship with no trust.” He says finally, his tone firm. You feel tears in your eyes as you stand.

“But I love you.” You whisper and Ethan turns to you with tears in his eyes.

“I love you, but I can’t do this.” He says again, before turning and heading up the stairs, taking your heart with him as he goes.

#ethan nestor #ethan nestor imagine #crankgameplays imagine #crankgameplays #crankgameplays smut #youtuber #youtube smut #Smut #ethan nestor smut #goodbye sex #breakup sex

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1990jeevas · 3 years

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Plesse tell me about queerness in the get down!!

okay okay queerness in the get down let's fuckn goooo

disclaimer: I havent watched this show in full for like 5 months at least, probably gonna get something wrong and/or forget some more important bits. also this wasnt proof read I just word vomited

tws: period typical homophobia, abuse mention, f slur use, bury your gays trope, overdose mention, mention of a creepy possible age gap (the age gap hasnt been confirmed so that's why its possible), cops

going from least to most prominent queer characters, let's start with mylene cruz!

so, from the beginning of this show she has an established romantic relationship with ezekiel (although the status of their actual relationship changes frequently throughout the show) and though this was a relationship she was hesitant to pursue, it is clear that she does have romantic feelings for him and if not for them both having growing careers in very different music genres (zeke specifically working in a genre that she repeatedly labels as bad because she thinks they're ruining records + that it isnt real music because they're using someone elses piece and rapping over it, that's not really important here tho lol) they probably wouldve had a much healthier, smooth sailing romance. that being said theres a few things that happen in the show that, while not explicitly clear, or even really good coding at that—to the point where you wont catch if you really arent looking for it (and trust me, I always look for coding, hers was just so little that it flew over my head until I saw someone else mention it)—are still cool to think about!

so, for starters, I wanna mention the toy box performance, which was performed by mylene and regina, who are best friends. that's all cool and shit, and you dont really think much about it...until you hear about the fact that the show runners purposely colored a lot of the scenes in that performance with the bi colors. like. the writers after the show ended basically said "oh yeah there was plans to make her coding more explicit, but our shit got cancelled soooo" and then dropped the fact that she was gonna be bi (or at least implies bi) in the series, which puts a new twist on a few things.

now, besides the bi coloring in the background of the toy box performance (which was mostly on scenes with her and regina, which involved a lot of uh,, lowkey lewd dancing. with each other. in very revealing outfits. wooooo), there's her music! I dont tend to read too much into this one bc, like I said before, her coding is fucking light and the writers themselves said they didnt really get to do much with it, but I think some stuff with her music is interesting. specifically how her, yolanda and regina's song set me free blew up because dizzee, resident (lowkey enby coded) bicon, got their song played in a queer club. also that the song was majorly important to dizzee and started playing literally right as he kissed a boy for the first time and realized "oh shit I like boys that's bonkers". also that the song can be taken in a gay way since literally the entire thing is about becoming your true self, fully and unapologetically, which is what both dizzee and mylene's entire character arcs are about. dizzee (and a lot of other queer people, apparently), heard this song about being set free and it resonated with them so much that they got that shit most of its popularity.

speaking of dizzee and mylene, they parallel each other a lot in the way that their arcs are about them realizing who they are, coming into themselves and no longer just letting people treat them like shit in a sense (dizzee starting to tell people essentially that they can call him weird all they want, they can make fun of how he acts, what he likes, how he dresses, etc. but he likes how he is and quite literally saying "it's okay to be an alien" as he has consistently compared himself to one throughout the show vs mylene learning that if she wants to be a disco singer she needs to put her foot down, not let anyone, not even the love of her life, not even her abusive father, stop her from achieving her dreams, etc. and continuing to pursue her career with or without their support). one more little parallel that I think is interesting is during I think s2 towards the end of the show is when dizzee and thor are shown together having fun with each other, painting all over the building and each other and are basically just being happy and in love together and then they have these clips of them being interspersed with clips of mylene at a party where she is starting to realize that if she wants to get anywhere she needs to be her own main priority and that she needs to put her career and her dream, which is what makes her the happiest, above all else if she wants to succeed. idk I just think how the show made these two into a weird parallel, accidental or not, is neat. maybe not an explicitly queer parallel, but I think at least how her music and whatnot helped dizzee, the main queer character in this show, blossom, is important.

moving on we got shaolin fantastic also known as "oh no your internalized homophobia is showing-"

so, heres a quick list of...interesting shao facts:

Consistently referred to as fag/faggot (shaolin fanfaggot is my personal favorite); he gets really defensive about this despite nobody actually thinking he's queer, it's just people being assholes to be assholes, and he is the only character consistently referred to using a slur, especially a homophobic one, especially for a "straight" character. dizzee, a canonically queer character, is called a fag less than shaolin is even though dizzee actively goes to gay clubs, has a not so secret dude he "hangs out with" and wont let anyone properly meet, paints his nails, wears less than straight clothes even by the 70s standards and is just all around the definition of fucking queer (and I mean like in the weird way, not the gay way). in fact theres only like once I can remember him being called a fag and it had nothing to do with him actually being gay it was literally just like thrown out there the same way you would call someone a bitch.

Has only shown sexual interest in women, yet refuses to have deeper relationships with women in general (possibly because of trauma but who knows) but takes his relationships with his "brothers", specifically zeke, very seriously

Tells zeke and zeke ONLY his real name when zeke was planning to stop being his friend bc shao more or less got boo boo, a like 14 year old black kid, arrested for selling hard drugs; he was clearly scared and trying to do anything to keep zeke around, literally chasing him down the street and hounding him until he got zeke to stop and argue with him

Kept threatening to beat up zeke in the end but couldn't actually bring himself to do so, instead saying that zeke is "fucking lucky" before walking away

Let's zeke get away with things that nobody else can, in general just has a weird soft spot for ezekiel that he shows with nobody else

when shao found dizzee with thor in a vaguely compromising situation (like they were just shirtless covered in paint sleeping next to each other but shao had also seen everything they painted on the walls ((which some of it was sus)), it was clear they had painted on each others bodies and dizzee had been routinely disappearing with this guy for weeks now yet not producing nearly as much art, at least, as far as we audience members know) he didnt judge him but instead, waited for him to get cleaned up and then told him something along the lines of "theres a reason why im so secretive blah blah blah [not everyone needs to know everything about me]", which, in context, kinda implies that he might be a lil. a lil homiesexual. jus a lil.

whenever even the possibility of zeke leaving him comes up he absolutely loses it. he has literally cost ezekiel life changing opportunities because he thought zeke would just up and leave him for them. this could be abandonment issues bc he's a severely traumatized character, and that probably does contribute to it, but it also is just not a reaction he has to any of their other friends just randomly dipping in and out of his life soooooo

generally speaking, this mfer has got either bisexual with a big hard on for zeke coding or homosexual with terrible internalized homophobia and still a hard on for zeke coding. either fucking way, that nigga gay. he gay as hell. gay as fuck man. there wasn't really much to analyze here tbh bc the coding is just so fucking obvious if you look for it or you are/have been a gay person who's dealt with at least a little bit of internalized homophobia.

also, just a sidenote, idk how fucking old shao, but I'm praying hes like at max 19 bc I'm pretty sure zeke is a minor in this show and shao definetly is not so the whole him being heavily implied to have a crush on ezekiel thing is kinda. oof. not oof if zeke is like 17 but any younger than that? OOF.

edit: apparently the characters are only supposed to be a year apart in age but i had no clue about that before writing this post and since shaos age was never actually stated in the show i naturally assumed he was an adult since his actor Looks Like An Adult. this is definetly on me to a certain extent, but i also never saw anything about this when trying to find our their ages so 🤷‍♀️ maybe i just didnt look deep enough, sorry!

now moving on to the main event...marcus dizzee kipling :]

so, first things first, let's talk enby coding bc him being bisexual was already confirmed!

um, to start off, I just wanna say I dont think this enby coding was intentional or even really coding, it's just moreso me being a dizzee kin on main and knowing as a transmasc enby he has very transmasc enby vibes. for example:

cool, gender neutral nickname that everyone calls him

paints nails various different colors

the whole wardrobe is just a transmasc enby heaven...fishnet shirts, jean overalls, jackets and cuffed pants galore, the big colorful pins, etc

gender neutral hairstyle (when I had my fro it was very sexy and made it easy to transition between hyper masc and vaguely fem, which is pog)

comparing himself to/representing himself consistently with an alien character (though this is meant to represent his sexuality, it could also double as a gender thing too, not neccesarily bc of the whole nonbinary alien trope but bc an enby who likes aliens might heavily identify or compare themselves to whatever their idea of an alien is, whether that just be a genderless entity or a motherfucker with fly style and no need to be perceived as anything other Wacky As Hell)

moving on from there, let's talk about how his queerness is presented to us and how, while it may be a really good piece of representation, especially coming from netflix, it still lacks in A Lot of places.

so, let's start with good things!

i personally really like the get down's queer rep with dizzee bc it's (for the most part) nonsexualized and very very soft, about dizzee figuring himself out and realizing there is a place where he fits in, and about two teenagers in the 70s falling in love over their shared passion for street art. it also features an interracial couple where both boys challenge stereotypes both about queer men and men of color, which is epic poggers and very sexy. this piece of rep specifically is very important to me bc I am a queer black person and even tho interracial relationships are mostly normalized now, I've still had people give me shit for primarily dating white people in a town that is...primarily white lol

mm anyways, I can also appreciate how in the get down, dizzee being represented by rumi the alien is not a thing specifically related to gender (as it often is) and instead is about his sexuality and just in general weirdness and how it has led to him being alienated amongst his peers, poc or otherwise. him seeing himself as an alien is not about just his queerness, which is important, it is about him being a queer black man who talks different, acts different, dresses different and is "soft"—he isnt a walking black male stereotype and he wouldnt have been seen as masculine back in the 70s by any stretch of the imagination. this can be relatable to a wide spectrum of queer poc, from queer black men currently who still have to deal with this shit or to people like myself who are afab neurodivergent mixed race enbies that have always been signaled out as weird and alienated for it. dizzee is god rep bc while he has a small part in this show, his parts are very impactful, hard hitting and show queer poc of all ages that they arent alone and that it's okay to "weird", you just need to embrace it because somebody will love you for you, as thor did for dizzee.

that being said theres um. some minor problemas here,,,

namely:

dizzee and thors first kiss

the lack of development this pairing got

the way dizzee was confirmed bisexual off screen, he never said the words himself, just showed interest in both genders

the way dizzee and thor were never even confirmed boyfriends or just fwb so most of the fandom just calls them boyfriends bc Why Not

dizzee was implied fucking DEAD??? AT THE END OF THE SERIES?????? AND THOR WAS IMPLIED ARRESTED?????????????

now, these might have been things that wouldve been fine had the show been given it's full run but it wasnt which is why we are now left with probelms.

so, from the top, let's go over these: dizzee and thor's first (and only "on screen") kiss was one that was shown in a montage of other queer people making over and doing other vaguely romantic/sexual things, one of those things being a whole ass naked titty being mouthed at, but the actual kiss...was just not shown? like they really did just say "yes they kissed <3 you know this from the context clues of it being in a montage with kissing, hickey giving and titty sucking <3 but no we will not show it <3" LIKE HELLO? I SAW A NAKED BOOBIE BUT NOT TWO MEN KISS??? HUH????????

also, dizzee and thor were both fucking high as hell during this bit like this isnt a terrible thing but it's also like sometimes you do shit when you're high that you wouldnt do sober and they just never kissed again on screen so like?? like idk that's not that bad but it does kinda irk me since they deadass got no other on screen intimacy after that unless you including painting on eacher other or sleeping next to each other on a shitty mattress but not touching at all during it bc they were both at opposite ends of the mattress like half way off it

so yeah, that was trash. then we got lack of development, which kinda goes with the "dizzee being a bisexual but he never says it in canon" thing cause like...okay dizzee was already sort of a side character from the get go like he wasnt the mc by any means, but he became way more of a background character as things continued until we basically only saw him for performances or when he was with thor, yet they got no fucking development as a pairing other than "dizzee realize he gay, he like thor, he and thor spend time together and ig probably do some gay stuff but we dont really know bc we only ever see them do graffiti together now" like?? tf am I supposed to do with that shit. answer. quickly. and then theres dizzee not being confirmed bisexual, which is just a running problem with shows literally doing everything to say a character is bi except for having the character just...say they're bi? which would be so easy? like a good way dizzee and thor couldve had some development is by thor teaching dizzee things about the queer community that he didnt even know existed, thor couldve helped him understand what being bi meant and helped him label himself and whatnot but instead we got an off screen confirmation that the writers had bisexual in mind when writing him. which is garbagé.

the whole thor and dizzee never having a confirmed relationship status is also a development problem cause like literally nobody knows if they were just friends who made out, maybe fucked, who knows, or if they were dating bc dizzee does give a love confession but a love confession doesn't mean there is a relationship, especially since thor didn't say he was in love either (as far as I remember, I could be wrong, plus whether or not that really happened or was apart of dizzee literally overdosing during a performance is unclear so 🤪)

and now for the biggest issue...bury your gays trope.

during the season 2 finale, dizzee and thor are chased by cops after they are found doing graffiti, one of the cops is able to catch thor while the other chases dizzee into a train tunnel and there is a train seen headed straight for him before the show cuts to black on a train horn. the show writers claim that if they had gotten another season, dizzee wouldve been alive but since they didnt and since that's essentially super fan trivia knowledge, most people dont fucking know that and instead had to watch a black queer teenager chose death over being fucking arrested by a white cop. on top of that, thor didnt see any of that shit because he was caught and the cop started hauling him off while dizzee was still being chased so thor literally has no clue where his friend/possible boyfriend fucking is or that he's likely dead in a goddamn tunnel all alone, unless you count the fucking pig that chased him in there who wouldve died too. this shows rep was so fucking good as far as most shows go on not having major fucking problems, on not being toxic and over sexualized, etc, etc. and then they just. killed a black queer teenager for no fucking reason. like it was literally the last episode ever, it would add nothing to the plot, it would just devastate fans and devastate it fucking did. I dont cry easy but seeing a character I identified with, who I had hyperfixated on, die because he'd rather that than be arrested is terrible. it fucking sucked.

so yeah. that's my all too extensive thoughts/analysis on the get down's queerness. theres definitely stuff I missed, or misinterpreted, or looked too much into, etc, etc., but this was a fun thing to spend time writing sooo yeah!! thanks for the ask anon, sorry this was just a big rambley info dump, but hopefully you get some enjoyment out of it since it took like 3 hours at least 😭😭 feel free to ask clarifying questions lol

#shit self #asks #the get down #mylene cruz #shaolin fantastic #dizzee kipling #long post #analysis #info dump #idk if anon has seen tgd or is just being nice so i tried givinh background to things #kinz #bangerz #discourse

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heretherebedork · 3 years

Note

The only thing that made sense in this episode is that one line in their new song that goes "we can't communicate" well.. MFs REALLY CAN'T !!

But no, really.. I GOT SO MANY QUESTIONS, ugh.

Why didn't Fiat just (what Leo f* asked him as well) tell his boyfriend about King right away? I'm not even implying that one of them is much more at fault, both of them are just f* dumb at this point. Or more like written wrong as hell, ugh I don't wanna say wrong because they're still HER characters but.. woman, the writing in this ep didn't make ANY sense at all warghhh!! Although I liked the idea of adding another 'drama' (simply bc I don't like too much of cheesy content), I would have wished for another type of plot(twist).

And bruh, don't make me mention LEO. Dude was ready to let that limpet kiss him to get some fake information ALTHOUGH he knew that King is playing mind games with them, especially with HIM. As if going to King directly wasn't another option, smh.

When Fiat had this monologue while sitting on that tree wondering why it hurt so much seeing his BOYFRIEND kiss another person, I was like: r u f* serious -.- ???? Idk but that scene could evtl REALLY be a reference to TT2 since now FIAT is the one being hurt as he watched his boyfriend getting kissed by another person. It's simply the same with Tharn who had to face Type getting kissed by Fiat. Hm, idk but payback's a bitch!!

I'm sry but LeoFiat NOT having enough trust in eo doesn't only make no sense because of the whole 10 episodes we've watched before, but also because of their f* SHARED PAST AS BEST AND VERY CLOSE FRIENDS FOR ALMOST 20. F*. YEARS. man, I mean come onnnn couldn't they come up w something more convincing????

You got two boys hot as f* w a hot as f* chemistry as well but don't really know how to make good use of it.. it's just so sad and wasted potential at this point. In the preview it looks like we will only have the first 10 mins solving this whole makes-no-sense-drama, I'm sure afterwards it'll be like nothing happened at all so we have that 'happy (and imo rushed) ending lol. Ik there's still a special episode afterwards but I would really like to see another season of them where Mame really SHOWS us their character development, especially when it comes to them communicating with eo. I don't even care anymore if she'll mess up that possible 2nd season as well (which she probably will).. it can't get more pointless anyway LMAO

I hate Leo, I hate Fiat, I hate this series. But I also love them, ARGHHHH!!!!

The problem here is that MAME doesn't believe in character development. Characters remain static. They do not change. They may seem to, but they never do.

And that's one of the biggest problems.

Think about it.

Have any of the characters actually grown?

Or do we just decide they do because the situation changes around them?

Honestly, yeah. That's the problem. We see the situation changing as them growing but the writers only see that as the situation changing and not the characters changing or growing at all.

So they're still reacting the same exact what they would have in episode one to what's happening in episode eleven and it doesn't work for the viewer because we think we've seen them grow and change... but we haven't.

The plot is dumb. And, in an earlier episode, I would have forgiven more because I would have been it as a chance for them to grow.

But at this point?

At episode eleven? At nearly the end?

I just don't see that potential for growth now because I know that everything they've been through has been for nothing.

Leo selling himself to protect Fiat makes sense in character... but the lack of communication doesn't make sense any more because they 'outgrew' ages ago. Only they didn't because their characters don't get to grow or change.

Fiat avoiding Leo's explanation because he doesn't want to hear anything makes sense in character... if you ignore everything he's been through and the pain he's gone through to realize that he needs explanations because they've allowed him to forgive the rest of his family. But he doesn't realize that because he can't grow as a character because they won't allow that.

That's the problem. That's why this episode fell so flat and pissed off so many people.

Because it's an episode that shows that no one in this show is allowed to grow. None of them are allowed to change. Because none of the writers know how to write character development.

So this episode, which could have been interesting, instead falls flat because it just shows the viewer that what we've been seeing as character development and growth is actually just nothing, just smoke and mirrors for the same issues that we thought the solved.

Ugh.

This show.

The potential is what we love and what we hate and what is being squandered so thoroughly.

#don't say no #don't say no the series gif #thai bl #thaibl #bl drama #bl series #asianlgbtqdramas #asian lgbtq dramas #leofiat #dsn the series #thai drama #ugh this show #it hurts me so

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mego42 · 3 years

Text

fav lines tag

RULES: share your favorite sentence/paragraph from each one of your fics and tag 6 other fic writers to do it too :)

tagged by the talented brilliant incredible @foxmagpie (💖)

tagging: @pynkhues @hypermania @bethsuglywigs @riosnecktattoo @missmaxime @sothischickshe @joeyjoeylee

some ground rules: I’m only doing brio fic bc at some point when I wasn’t paying attention I wrote a metric fuckton of it and we’re already gonna be here all day bc my other ground rule is I’m allowed to interpret the concept of a line however i want. i’m also gonna tell you why i picked them bc no one can stop me. cool? cool. good talk.

your monster looks like mine

okay so my first choice for fav would be the entire ~conversation around whether or not beth had a choice when she set rio up bc oooof I just love how that came out so! much! BUT if I’m limiting myself to something closer to a line, I’m going with this one. i love what it establishes for rio’s emotional state when it comes to beth, i love how it captures their push/pull constant one upping battle, I love the rhythm of the flow of it and the grandiose verbiage (i was having a frankly unreasonable amount of fun with natural phenomena imagery throughout the whole fic and this captures a bit of it). idk I just think it’s neat.

The words rip through him, a bright, blazing comet trail whipped across his sky, illuminatin’ his landscape, impossible to ignore.

Elizabeth’s spread out on the bed below him, golden hair tumblin’ around her face, mouth red and swollen, lookin’ up at him like she’s got him. Like she’s figured some shit out. Like she fuckin’ did something by putting that together.

Like Rio doesn’t fuckin’ know. Like that doesn’t fuckin’ haunt him, torment him, mock him every time she pulls some of her bullshit and he’s left picking up the pieces, knowin’ damn well what the right answer is but also knowin’ he’s always gonna be wrong when it comes to her.

a song inside the halls of the dark

another one where I’d pick a whole scene if I could BUT if the whole opening flashback isn’t on the table (idk I love it for 14,000 reasons including how it sets up the bookend structure for the chapter, how it sets up a bunch of the final payoffs, the tone of it, idk everything about it came out exactly how I wanted it to and I really love how it tees up the ending), then I’m going with this bit from the final brio scene. it ties back in a whole bunch of threads that have been woven in and out all the way back to the first chapter and closes them out in a way that also feels (to me) like a beginning which I love bc the whole theme of the chapter is it’s a beginning, not the end.

What does it mean then, that he’s slept so soundly beside her?

The playhouse glows softly. She wonders how many more times she can get away with sanding it before it weakens past the point of supporting the kids’ weight and the whole thing collapses.

Behind it, she can see the long shadow it casts reaching for the boxwoods bordering the yard. The lines of the structure frame windows of bright moonlight on the grass, eerily reminiscent of the windows that loomed large in the nightmares Beth abruptly realizes she hasn’t had in weeks. Not since that last night at Rio’s loft. And that’d been the last one since...his car. Canada. The night all of this started.

Beth blinks. What does it mean that she’s slept so soundly beside him?

A-live, alive, alive, I—

Her breath catches.

—

pills’n’potions

I don’t have any grand reasoning for why I picked this bit from the 4th (i think?) ~ch as my fav, I just really like writing annie and rio interacting and I especially love writing them with annie like, intellectually aware that she should probably be afraid of him but also spiritually incapable of not being herself and rio being wildly annoyed by it

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut.

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

[...]

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered.

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message."

—

trade my heart for honey

the only thing sexier than rio being good at pool is beth being a fucking shark and rio being out of control turned on by it.

Dropping all pretense at being less than she is, Beth grabs the cue ball, positioning it slightly to the left of center where the felt is slightly more worn. Even without the tell, she's seen Rio put it there enough times to know it's the table's sweet spot. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rio shift his weight before she tunes him out entirely, drawing the stick back and letting it fly.

It's as close to a perfect break as she's probably ever managed. The cue ball connects dead on, scattering the rest far and wide. The one and the six drop neatly into pockets, the four and five coming to a stop right on the edge of the left side and far left corner, nearly closing off that whole side of the table.

Every stripe remains in play.

"Solids," she says, not letting herself dwell on the way Rio's mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes glazed over.

—

swaying evergreens

the whole theme of this fic is the terrifying intimacy and vulnerability of sharing your most precious moments and memories with someone you care about and I like how this touches on that along with sort of nutshelling the double edged sword of grief-tinted memory which is another major theme

There's somethin' extra about these unguarded moments. That Elizabeth trusts Rio enough to drop her guard completely and give him this completely unvarnished look at her. It's been over a year since he's been back in her bed, since the first time he'd slept here, but there's still somethin' tentative about it. Like there's a part of him that's never going to be all the way over the first time he'd been here, that can't fully believe how far they've come, that this isn't going to crumble, melt, drain away.

Truthfully, Rio doesn't mind it, that faint edge. He's well acquainted with the different flavors of loss, and the threat of it's a counterpoint that keeps him sharp. Lets him know this is real but not somethin' he'll take for granted.

—

swear on a silver knife

there were a couple of sexy tension bits that made for strong contenders but ultimately this won bc I’m obsessed with how this reference to 306 came out.

“I told you. I got my own debts to pay.” He bit off the words like it cost him something to repeat them.

Beth shivered, abruptly right back at that picnic table, cheeks wet and staring at him, searching for any hint of the man she’d—she’d—anyone besides the cold, unfeeling stranger sitting beside her, blood so fresh on his hands she could nearly smell it underneath the scent of the cold, misty night rain falling around them, blurring her eyes, beading in her hair and on his eyelashes.

—

listening through the air shaft

this was a really hard one to narrow down but I ultimately went with this but bc I love it for a culminating look at how beth and rio’s relationship has evolved throughout the fic and also bc a version of this scene was the first thing I wrote for the whole fic so it was fun to finally get there with everything in place behind it. I also just love it as a reference for the dichotomy of both beth and rio and also how complicated that is makes being around them for everyone else

They aren't even doing anything, just quietly working side by side, but there's a synchronicity to their movements, a quiet peace that makes Dean feel more like an intruder than anything else that's happened today, and he hates it.

It’s so far from the guy that’d broken into his home, beaten him up. Who’d looked at him with those terrifying, blank, shark eyes before casually shooting him in the chest like it was nothing right where they’re about to sit down and share a meal.

A guy, Dean suddenly realizes, he hasn’t seen any hint of in a long, long time. It’s not that he doesn’t think that part of him isn’t there, it’s just...it’s weird, is all, how completely he puts it away.

It reminds Dean of Beth, actually, now that he’s thinking about it.

God. They look so...so domestic. Sweet. Disarming in a way that completely undermines everything Dean thought he'd known about the guy and their whole...thing.

He just—he doesn't get it, what Beth sees in him.

—

now use both hands

idk I just like this bit let me live

"What are you—what service?"

He makes himself take the route through the showroom that brings him right past her, leaning in and softly brushing a lock of hair out of her face for the first time in longer than he can remember.

Her eyes flutter shut, and he feels absolutely nothing.

"Helping sad, lonely housewives get off once their husbands are done with them."

Her eyes snap open, and he makes himself look at her long enough to watch the hit land and the hurt bloom.

He's empty, untouchable, she's nothing to him.

Rio doesn't look back.

—

I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA!

you can take my made up backstory for rio and mick from me when you pry it from my cold dead hands.

Mick had been there the first time Rio'd had to get his hands all the way dirty and had kept an eye on him when he'd gotten blackout drunk after, and Rio'd done the same for him. Every bloody, grimy step Rio'd climbed, Mick had been right there with him, watching his back all the way to the top.

The point is Rio's Mick's brother in every way that counts.

Mick'd seen him twisted up over business and twisted up over personal shit, but he's never seen him let both get twisted up like he had since that fuckin' weasel Boomer'd got his ass handed to him and Rio'd gotten curious about it.

—

as the world turns, the blunt burns

I pull this every time I have to pick a fav and I can’t even really explain it aside from I think I’m really, really funny and that’s enough

Beth suddenly sobers as much as she can when she feels like she's simultaneously floating away and sinking into the Earth and wipes her eyes. "Are you gonna get in trouble?"

"You're in the house, ain't you?" He's answering Beth but looking at Rio.

"Mick," Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently, he doesn't have all of the information. "We're in the yard."

"Yeah, Mick," Rio says, glaring. "You're in the yard."

Mick shrugs, and Beth realizes he isn't scared of Rio at all. That's a neat trick. How does he do that? Maybe he can teach her.

—

smoke, fire, it’s all going up

there are realistically many other better lines in this fic but this one never fails to make me laugh so it remains my fav.

"You- you-" She sputters at him, flailing around a little. "You were the one that started mailing me pieces of a dead body."

"You blocked my number." Rio snarls, which is not what he'd meant to say, and he hates that she trips him up.

"That is not a proportionate response!"

—

got a kiss (with your name on it)

it was this or the text exchange at the beginning of the fic bc I strongly believe established relationship brio would continually roast each other for their past dumbassery but the elizabeth kink won out

"Come here," Rio's voice is thick but insistent in a way that brings every cell of Beth's body to attention. She hooks her thumb over her bottom teeth and drags her lower lip a little, a gesture full of who me mock innocence, waiting for him to say-

"Elizabeth." There it is.

There's an endless amount of things that Beth finds ferociously, irresistibly sexy about Rio, but when he says her full name in that commanding tone? Even if she's pissed the fuck off and has no intention of doing what he wants, it gives her goosebumps.

—

say it’s all in my head (i remember what you said)

I will be real with y’all, I forget I wrote this fic a lot of the time hahahaha but! that means every time I’m reminded I go back and am like oh yeah! I like this! anyway there isn’t like, one specific but I really love most as much as I really like the tentative breathless nervousness and then also overwhelming so muchness and I like how this but captures both of those

For a single, breathless moment, she stands in the middle of the room, alone and terrified.

Then Rio wets his lips and comes towards her, moving with that languid grace she's never been able to look away from even before she had any idea why that could be.

All of the fear collapses like a dying star, sending a supernova of relief and molten heat zinging through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her head swims, and every cell in her body feels like it's leaning towards him- like she's made of magnets on a molecular level and he's the lodestone.

He gently pushes her bangs off of her forehead, slowly running his fingertip down the side of her face, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He tilts his head towards hers and stops, going no further than halfway, leaving it up to her to close the distance.

She lets her eyes fall shut as she leans into him and tentatively touches her mouth to his for the first time.

—

the world is on fire (and no one can save me) / what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way)

two for one!!! idk if either of these is my number one favorite line from either fic individually but I really like how they both play together. I like writing beth and rio pov and having them mirror each other’s narration both in thought and structure a lot bc I like thinking of them as two versions of the same

Beth checks her phone, nothing from Rhea, and sends a quick I'm here, text me when you're close, and I'll grab a table before wetting a paper towel and wiping away the last of her smeared mascara. With precise, brisk movements, she snaps open her bag and fishes out her compact, her lipstick, and her mascara; lining them up click, click, click on the tiny shelf below the mirror.

She can live with this; she has to live like this; she will live like this.

She flips open the compact and methodically dabs away the flush and pallor and shadows that are not grief, are not loss, are not anything other than shock and horror that she'd gone so far, that she'd lost control, that she'd killed a man (that man).

and

So what the fuck had he been doin' with Elizabeth fuckin' Boland, giving her chance after chance to cross the line? What the fuck was the point of a line if it might as well not be there at all? All because he liked her big blue eyes and the way she worked a tight sweater? Nah, that ain't him. That can't be him. That's the kind of shit that'll get you killed, and he's got three spent bullets in his pocket and a scar next to his heart if he ever needs the reminder again.

He shifts in the driver's seat, reaching into his pocket and fishing the bullets out. Lining them up on the dashboard with a definitive click, click, click. He looks past them to the brightly lit valet station. He's been parked in the back of the lot for ten minutes now, waiting for Rhea to give him the go sign. He ain't hiding, doesn't need to, Elizabeth ain't lookin' for him, he just wants to make sure he sees her before she sees him. Get a good look first, so he can size up the situation.

#good lord when did i write so much fic?????????#imagine if i hadn't onlly stuck w/ ch 12 of song #it would've taken me weeks to do this #tag games #my fic #shut up meg #gg related

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