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#bec as soon as something like this happens they say some shit
kaicubus · 1 year
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Show, Not Tell | Xavier T.
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warnings ✩° : semi-nsfw, jealousy, slight possessive behavior, cursing, xavier being protective, hickeys//markings, manhandling, mentions of size difference, non canon character named marlon flirting with you.
pairing ✩° : boyfriend!xavier thorpe x girlfriend!reader
premise ✩° : xavier isn't jealous, not for the most part at least. until he sees how you talk with your classmate and his sparring partner, marlon. did you always smile like that with everyone or was it just marlon? doesn't matter. xavier’s pissed.
word count ✩° : 2.9k
authors note ✩° : guys i am sick. i cannot breathe. i miss the taste of food.
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What was it about Marlon Acheron that made it so easy for you to talk to him? Was it the fact he was more popular than Xavier? Or was it his piercing red eyes, shaded with the dark lenses of sunglasses that intrigued you? Maybe it was the hair that was slicked back with a glossy finish from his stupid cinnamon scented hair gel. Or maybe it was all those things combined.
But Xavier is your boyfriend. Not Marlon. He knew his place in your heart, so why was it that every time his eyes scanned the room to find you, Marlon just so happened to catch you first and steal you away from him? Did you always smile like that with everybody or was it just Marlon? Didn’t matter. Xavier’s pissed.
At first, you thought you encouraged him to push though practice and were beyond happy to see him progressing so well. Even his instructor agreed he’s been on top of his practice and would soon topple Bianca for first place in rank. That was until you realized who his sparring partner was.
Marlon Acheron.
Marlon’s your classmate, not necessarily friend nor foe, and certainly not a guy you could call up and spend a few hours with at the Weathervane like any other of your friends. He was just there most of the time, in class and in the halls. But you did notice that he would give you some sort of special treatment.
Marlon’s your classmate, not necessarily friend nor foe, and certainly not a guy you could call up and spend a few hours with at the Weathervane like any other of your friends. He was just there most of the time, in class and in the halls. But you did notice that he would give you some sort of special treatment.
Whether it was saying hi to you first when you entered the training room, striking up some hollow conversation just to stall you from going to see your boyfriend, or accidentally ‘forgetting’ something that he’d ask you to retrieve for him. It was always his glasses so you found it strange that he could forget something so important nearly every other day.
Being the sweetheart you are, you thought there was nothing wrong with how he was acting. Plus, you forget things all the time so it’s not so different with him.
But Xavier is the complete opposite. He knows exactly what Marlon’s intentions are, they're all so obvious to him.
“No one forgets their glasses like he does. Especially not a vampire.” Xavier says when the two of you are alone after his fencing practice, “He asks you to get his shit every day. Can’t he ask someone else, like why does it HAVE to be you?”
“I forget things too, Xavier. I’m sure he’s just got better things to worry about like trying to actually get a chance to beat you when you two go at it. It’s not like they're prescription anyways, he said his eye sight is fine.”
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes and goes back to etching charcoal onto the canvas in front of him. Recently, he’d come to his secret shed with you so you both can have alone time and so that he can draw. He’d never tell you but another reason for these ‘dates,’ as he called them, were partially because of Marlon.
“He doesn't leave you alone, Y/n. It’s like he’s stuck to you like a stupid dog. It doesn’t even make sense because he’s a VAMPIRE.” Xavier exhales sharply, blowing some excess black dust off his work space, “It’s past the point where friends do that. Not even I did that before we got together, which is saying a lot because I was way more obsessed with you before.”
You lean back on the extra stool next to his chair and give him a nonchalant shrug, “Yeah, you’re right. But what’s your deal with him? Why are you so mad whenever we talk to him or when you’re sparring with him during fencing practice? It’s like you’re trying to kill him out there, you could at least give him a break.”
“Give him a break?” Xavier scoffs and turns to face you, “He slacks off every time we practice and when he finally thinks it’s time to actually practice, you walk in like some angel through the doors and suddenly all of his attention is on you.”
You stare at him for a moment, taking a mental note of his tight lipped frown and a glimpse of irritation in his shaking legs, “What do I have to do with any of that? I come to watch you. Your instructor said I should keep coming because you do best when I’m there, so I can’t just stop showing up.”
“Oh come on.” His brows fall flat on his face as he moves his head down just a bit, expressing his disappointment, “Y/n, the guy’s head over heels in love with you. You don’t see anything wrong with the way he acts?” Xavier stabs the end of the pencil back to the paper and aggressively whisks his hand over the art, smudging the side of his hand black.
"I guess it’s weird, but it’s not like he’s outwardly flirting with me. You know? Like I said, he’s probably just forgetful. Extremely...forgetful.” Even you can’t excuse Marlon’s behavior. Your attempt, however, only sours Xavier’s mouth as he shrivels his expression in disgust. 
Xavier sticks out his chin, unintentionally showing off his cutting edge jaw to the side, and groans, “Maybe you should stop talking to him. Just ignore him when you come visit. Y/n I am this close to bashing his brains out if he keeps on doing this shit,” he holds up two fingers that are just about to touch, “It pisses me off how he always steals you before I can even say hi. Next thing I know he’s basically on top of you, asking you all these stupid questions like, ‘Y/n what do you think of my uniform?’ ‘Y/n can you feel my helmet to make sure its on right?’ ‘Y/n say épée.’ It’s sad, actually.”
You let out a much needed sigh and slouch down, “I don’t want to stop talking to him, he’s nice. But yeah, I wish there was a way to get him to stop or to show him I’m not interested.”
He thinks for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, while moving his leg in one place. “I guess...no...” He lets out a quick breath, “What would make Marlon leave you the fuck alone...”
“You know, I’m picking up some jealousy...”
Xavier shoots you a glare, “Yeah, right.” but then suddenly raises his brows, “I think have an idea.”
You watch as he puts up his pencil, postponing his continuation of his sketch, and prop himself up more on the seat. Confused, you massage the side of your neck and glance attentively at his change in posture.
“Sit here.” Xavier grins, tapping his legs, inviting you to take a seat, “If Marlon’s going to act like you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll just show him who you belong to and why he can’t ever have you."
Body moving on it’s own, you make your way towards him and plant yourself directly on top of his waist, grounding yourself by shifting side to side to find the perfect balance.
“And how are you going to do that?” You’re almost scared to ask, but the look on his face suggests something you don't even expect before it comes out of his own mouth.
“We have to show him you’re mine, not tell him. He won’t get it otherwise.” Xavier looks at you with sly eyes, teeth poking just barley from his lips, “I’m just saying, people like him don’t catch hints too easily. So it’ll be a sort of, slap in the face when he sees his perfect Y/n with hickeys all over her neck and down.”
You quickly open your mouth in surprise, “Oh that’s what we’re doing? I kinda thought you were going to brand me or something.”
“I mean...” Xavier looks to the side and chuckles deeply, “Nah, I’m joking. I do however want to do the whole hickey thing. I think that way he’d get it.” He holds up a finger and touches the front of your neck with the end of his nail, sending shivers all throughout your body as he turns his head to get a full view of his new canvas. “Yeah,” Your boyfriend wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, “That’d work really good actually.”
When you scoot yourself further onto him, you can feel the both of his palms barley cushion the underside of your thighs as a small grin pulls the corner of your lips up. “Really?” You tease, “You sure this has nothing to do with you being jealous?”
“Oh yeah, positive.” Xavier jostles his knee beneath you to scoot you even closer, “You think I’d be threatened by Marlon Acheron of all people? I’m offended, babe.”
You give a small laugh before gently holding the sides of his face and caressing the back of his head, combing your fingers lightly through his long hair, “Yeah? Well you should be. I’m surprised you haven't told him off yet.”
“You see how I spar with him,” Xavier moves his head to the side and kisses your collarbone, “I want to kill him for it, but I figured you wouldn't like that all too much.”
You roll your head to the side, granting him full access to your skin, and smile, “Hard to believe when all you've been doing is just carelessl-ly, trying to cut him.”
As you talked, Xavier wasn't too focused on the words coming out of your mouth. He knew all you were doing was trying to irritate him more so that he could handle you more roughly, but he had a little more class than that. Or so he thought. Truth is, he is better than no man when it comes to you.
Before he knows it, tasting the softness and sweetness of your skin quickly becomes an addiction he isn't quite ready to quit. Everything taste from warm notes of light amber to the freshness of a freshly picked rose, he can’t get nearly as much as he wants from a surface level skin kiss.
So he kisses harder. Licking and sucking down your neck, grazing the tips of his teeth and sharp canines along you as well.
“Wait, X-Xavier—” You groan just barely audible and tug on his locks with an even tighter hold than before.
Too focused on you, he doesn't respond and just continues to thrust his tongue over the gradually building bruises. Even though at this point you begin to move away from him in an attempt to stop him from darkening the marks beyond repair, he pulls you right back into place and moves onto another spot of vulnerable, untainted skin.
“H-Hah...X-Xavier...” A satisfactory moan as well as his name escapes from your throat so you bite your lip to suppress it as best as possible.
There was no thought of sparing you from weird stares you were sure to get from classmates, Xavier just imagined what Marlon would say or what he’d look like if he saw you, his seemingly perfect Y/n with marks made by his sparring partner. Xavier grinned at the thought.
As you manage, unsuccessfully, to keep your back straight and hands from roaming his body, it becomes hard to ignore the fluttery feeling building low in your stomach. His hand placement just over your hips, the way his neediness has somehow manifested it’s way into his mouth, and his panting complete with your own are all telltale signs that if this goes on for longer, you both wouldn’t last.
His tongue rolls harshly over the side of your neck, generously saturating your thin and sensitive skin under his suctioned lips with his saliva. You can’t help but squirm in his tight embrace, his fingers digging so hard into your hips you're convinced that they'll leave a mark as well, trying to hold you down on one place on his thigh.
“Stay still.” You can feel him grunt against your skin, “I’m not done yet.” Though his tone is demanding, you can feel the effects of his desperation ricocheting against his teeth. Or rather, his tongue, judging by his heavy breathing and increasingly deeper and longer licks he does.
“H-How many more?” The question comes out in a fleeting pant, trying to catch your breath, “How much are you going to d-do?” It was already impossible to stay put, you don't know how much more you can take if he keeps it up at this pace.
“Enough so Marlon can lay off.” With that, Xavier roughly squeezes your waist and lifts you up enough so that you're higher up on his thigh now, both your legs locked in between his own kneecaps. For a brief moment, you're met with the chill breeze of the airy shed hitting your wet skin, but it doesn't last long as Xavier pushes himself right back to his original position, earning himself a surprised gasp from you.
With his lips properly latched onto your jugular, he continues at an even deeper force and runs the tip of his tongue back over the already sensitive areas he’d previously marked. His extra bit of attention sends your mind spiraling. Of course, hes not fair either and only applies a bit of pressure from just the tip of his tongue.
“Xavi-ier...don’t make them so dark...” You gasp out, “I still have classes to go to, remember?”
“So?” His breath fans against your damp skin, “What if I want everyone to see?” He bites harder and laps up the remainder your scent off of you, messily bruising you more so that blooms of his intimacy can be seen miles away.
Your face flushes, “A-Are you almost done?”
“Almost.”
When he finally plucks his mouth from your neck, making a quick ‘pop’ sound before wiping his sleeve over his darkened lips, he pulls away and just stares. Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s proud of his work. Not the actual work he was supposed to finish, but the dark splotches of red and purple that littered all from the start of your jaw, down to just above the start of your chest. They're like trophies to him.
Most of all, he’s proud of just how worked up he somehow managed to get you. Just by the sight of you, your heavily blushed face, glossy and squinted eyes, and parted lips due to excessive hard breathing made him want to mark you more, in other places. But the ones on your neck would have to suffice, even if hidden ones only he could see would excite him more than the ones he could show off to some insignificant person.
Before you could even utter a breath of relief, a smirk slowly appears on your boyfriends face, only making you more nervous, “That should do it,” Xavier says, “How do you feel?”
“Like my entire neck is purple.” You laugh, pushing up the hair that had fallen over his face.
He chuckles, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, it’s not. But I can do that if that’s what you want?”
You grab his face again and mash your lips together with his, “Nice thought, Xavier, but I think this is plenty.”
He hugs you tighter, “Whatever you say. We should uh, we should go show him, shouldn’t we?” 
You grin, “Maybe later, I still have to tell you what Marlon said to me yesterday.”
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Walking into the next practice of the fencing team, you strut down the well lit hall with your neck not nearly hidden as you’d hoped. Since everyone knew you were bound to show up sooner or later, no one really paid any mind to you walking in. Thankfully.
But Marlon and Xavier did.
When you look past Marlon and straight at Xavier, you can feel his eyes on you. This time, they weren't on your face or on your skirt like usual, instead they were plastered onto your neck and all of the hickeys that had remained just as dark as Xavier made them to be yesterday.
You can hear a small scoff from behind you, so you turn around and see Marlon standing, waiting for you to have some sort of explanation for the mockery of his affection.
“Y/n.” He holds his helmet between his arm and lodged against his hip, “Good to see you.”
Xavier watches as you walk up to Marlon, this time feeling more confident than ever. “Hey Marlon,” You smile, as per usual, “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Question, did you get beaten up by someone?” Marlon points at your neck.
“Oh no, no my boyfriend kinda...” Your voice trails slowly, searching for the much needed reaction for both you and Xavier, “...yeah...”
Marlon nods slowly, tucking his lips under each other and furrowing his brow, “Right. I just thought you know, you getting my glasses all the time and us having a ton of inside jokes, that we had something.” The vampire spits, “I guess not.”
“You know it’s really funny you say that, Marlon, because actually,” Suddenly, Xavier appears next to you and throws his arm over your shoulders, “We are most definitely a ‘thing’. Didn’t know if that really clicked in your head but,” Xavier points to his head, “We are.”
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ohmykiyo · 10 months
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🪦 title ; getting into an argument w/ your bf & walking out :( genre ; angst to fluff warnings ; metions of anxiety ( sakusa's ) slightt heartache lol, boys call you an "attention-seeking whore", knife mentioned metaphorically, lowercase intended characters ; sakusa, suna, atsumu 🗝️ jeilly's notes ; i literally just wanted something angsty so here's this lmao. also the boys are complete dicks here :') + this shit took like forever for me 2 finish lol, send me requests i have 0 ideas atm
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kiyoomi is seriously the most stubborn man when it comes to arguments.
he'll always hear you out, you think.
except this was one of the times where he didn't.
you just came from your favorite cafe that you went to with your friend, osamu.
you ordered a drink for yourself, then another for your boyfriend at home
you didn't happen to tell your boyfriend about going out with a friend, thinking that it didn't matter since osamu and your boyfriend were well acquainted.
without giving it a second thought, you posted a picture on instagram captioned "coffee run with onigiri miya :)"
you were soon receiving a ton of likes, which shed some unnecessary light on you and osamu's seemingly “too-friendly” relationship
sadly, kiyoomi began to see you the same way others did as well.
walking through the door, you decided that today was a good day. "kiyoomi!", you chirped. you made your way towards your boyfriend, seemingly not realizing the storm that was brewing fast.
"did you have fun?" sakusa asked, but not in the usual sweet tone he usually uses. it sounded.. cold? maybe even snarky if you listened hard enough.
"oh yeah! i went to the cafe i usually go to and they had a whole new menu for summer, i-" you were cut off by his aggressive tone.
"really, now?," the coldness that laced his voice made you flinch, "so, you're just gonna skip over the fucking part where you were alone with atsumu's brother?"
you lift your palms up as if to calm him down, which was in vain as the storm had finally begun. he's never sworn at you, let alone speak to you with such tone.
"omi-"
you were cut off once more, the nickname that filled sakusa with so much joy just this morning had seemed to fuel his already brewing anger instead.
"don't fucking 'omi' me." he grits. now you're really feeling it, fear rushing through your veins. you really didn't think he'd get so angry about this. if you knew this would happen, you would've called to let him know.
"kiyoomi, i really didn't-"
"don't spout bullshit now," he scoffs, thinking your trembling arms were an act. "you posted it on your instagram as if you wanted me to see it."
he inches closer and closer to your trembling body, not realizing that you were in genuine fear. anxiety filled your lungs. it got harder and harder to breathe. sakusa's blinded by rage at this point, and doesn't bother to stop himself from what he says next.
"you're just an attention-seeking whore now, huh?" he says, venom coating his words. your heart shattered. the drink you brought him now lays on the ground, as well as your heart.
you didn't notice how tears welled up in your eyes. neither did you notice how the slight trembling of your hands transitioned to uncontrollable shaking. 'did he really just say that?' you thought, 'does he not want me anymore?'. your thoughts spiraled until your breaths became shallow. with the last bit of composure you had left, you rushed into your bedroom.
sakusa noticed the effect his words had on you a few minutes too late. he knew he should've let you talk, but seeing you with another man that wasn't him sparked something in him.. 'was it jealousy?', he can't tell.
he noticed the way his heart started racing the moment you locked yourself inside the bedroom. sounds of shuffling and sniffling sobs were the only things he could make out from the opposite side of the door.
'fuck, fuck, fuck.' he fucked up, and he knows.
"baby? baby, we can talk this out." he stutters. his hand gripping the doorknob so hard, his knuckles became pale.
the shuffling stopped. but, the sniffling didn't.
the door swung open, almost making sakusa fall forward. as he takes a look at you, his heart stops.
you have a duffel bag in one hand and an overstuffed tote bag in the other. the apples of your cheeks are stained with tears, and your eyes are shone bright red. you hiccup here and there as you try to push through sakusa's muscular build.
you were losing your composure once again. you needed to get out of there, now.
after a minute, and another,
you finally lose it.
"move out of the fucking way!"
this time.. it was sakusa who flinched. it was now him who was trembling in fear and guilt.
"y/n.. baby please," he begs. oh, he begs and begs. but, you don't budge. as he looks down at the eyes that once held so much love and adoration for him were.. gone. there was nothing but hurt swimming through those pretty eyes of his lover. that's if he could still call you his at all.
you let out a shaky breath. clutching the bags in your hands so hard, your nails begin to sink deeper and deeper into your palms.
"do you even want me?"
sakusa's blood runs cold. 'how could you ever say that?' he thought. of course he wanted you, you're the only person he'd ever want. how could you ever think--
oh.
it took him a moment, but he realized that he's the reason why you've been out so much, lately. he leaves before you're awake, and comes home when you're fast asleep. his neglect. his carelessness.
sakusa's so lost in thought, he doesn't realize he kept you waiting.
you took his silence as an answer and the waterworks began to fall once again. you couldn't let your boyfriend— well, ex, see you in such a pathetic state a second time.
you nod, slowly. then make your way past him. your arms limp against your side.
sakusa finally snaps out of his thoughts before stopping you in your tracks.
"stop!" he gasps. "just stop."
his hands found their way to your waist.
when you don't push him away, he takes it as a good sign.
"what?" you choke out. light hiccups still audible.
he pulls you closer, "there will never be a time where i won't want you."
your heart aches heavily.
"yet it always seems like you don't."
you whispered those words quietly. if sakusa wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard the way you gasped and sniffled. it was almost like you were trying not to let him hear..
dropping your duffel bag, a light thud made its way to your ears.
you turn to face the raven-haired behind you, eyes staring at your shoes due to the shame of being seen crying.
he places his index finger lightly under your chin, lifting it up so you'd look at him one more time.
"i will always want you, y/n," he assures you, waiting for a reaction. your eyes didn't waver from the tears flooding them, letting sakusa know you weren't convinced at all.
you push him away slightly. a pang in kiyoomi's chest made it seemingly harder to breathe.
you look down at your shoes again, clenching your fists into a ball tightly. "you've given me every reason to fucking believe that i wasn't worth it anymore."
kiyoomi's mouth opens and closes. he wants to say something-- no, he needs to say something.
you continue, "the one moment i wanna walk out on you the same way you've done to me, is the one time you actually want me here."
his heart broke. it broke into pieces he could never count.
"i'm," he gasps, trying to inch closer and closer to you. "baby, you can't do this to me, please."
you pick up the duffel bag you dropped on the ground before swinging it over your shoulder. you turn your head to face him before leaving,
"how you feel now is the same feeling i felt for 2 months." you say.
and with that, you were out the door.
kiyoomi's now on his knees, sobbing into his hands.
its been about two days since you've been home.
sakusa was miserable. he missed your laugh, your voice, your everything.
if he can barely last two days, how can he go on about the rest of his life?
at this point he's in withdrawal due to your absence.
you on the other hand, feel a little better, maybe even refreshed. you were thinking about your boyfriend, who you assume was doing just fine without you.
'i'll stop by for a bit, i forgot my facewash anyway.' you think. you were annoyed when you realized you left it, and didn't exactly seem inclined to buy a new one since your current one still had so much product left, not only that, it was expensive as hell.
as you stood right at the door, you exhale swiftly before entering.
the house was clean, nothing was out of place. it looked.. lifeless. like no one ever lived in the place at all.
you step inside as if the place was never your own, keeping your hands to yourself and trying to make as little noise as possible. you make it to the bathroom. you find your facewash fast, and exit.
as you made your way back out, you noticed that there was no one in the masters bedroom where you would usually find kiyoomi. 'that's odd.' you thought. it was kiyoomi's day off today, and you were kinda hoping that your raven-haired boyfriend would be around.
you sulk a little bit before reaching the living room. you walk past a picture frame that included you and sakusa. you had a petty argument about that, too. kiyoomi only kept it up because he wanted to avoid another argument, you think.
while you were busy staring at the little frame, you didn't seem to hear the light shuffling behind you.
you gasp when strong arms pull you into a tight embrace.
you recognize his touch immediately. "kiyoomi?"
he hums as a response, "missed you so much." he says. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. you missed him, too. you indulge yourself in his touch for a few minutes more before twirling around to face him.
"are we.. still together?" you asked. examining his face, there seemed to be dark circles under his dark eyes.
he looks at you with shock, "we never broke up, i wouldn't let you if you tried."
you smile. you don't notice the light sigh of relief your boyfriend lets out when he sees you beaming. it put him at ease, knowing he can still make you smile like that.
shrugging, "if only you showed me that same energy the past 2 months." you comment, "i'm just here for the facewash, so go about your day, i guess."
kiyoomi's eyes widened before wrapping his arms around you in a tight but not suffocating hold.
"no." he whispers.
"hey, don't act like you didn't want me out in the first place." you roll your eyes.
"don't leave," he says, barely above a whisper. "two days without you were hell, i don't wanna imagine a life without you at all."
your heart skipped a beat a few times.
"shouldn't have been so mean to me."
"yell at me, kick me in the balls. i'll take whatever you throw at me." he suggests.
rolling your eyes once again you say, "unlike you, i'm nice, so i'll pass. just.. don't treat me as if i don't matter-- please." you mutter the last part.
sakusa complies almost immediately. engulfing you into a big hug, cherishing your touch as if his life depended on it. he kisses your head again and again.
yeah. maybe.. maybe this'll be the turning point in your relationship.
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suna is absolutely brutal when angry
this just had to be one of the worst moments of when he was.
you were out at work helping your coworker
you didnt seem to realize how late it had gotten once you finished
as an apology to your boyfriend, you bought him a few of his favorite snacks
none of that could have prepared you for what happened once you walked through that door.
you were packing up after a day of being overworked. thank god you had your coworker kita helping you out. you were exhausted and just wanted to get home to your boyfriend, rin. you decided to be the sweet and angelic girlfriend you are by buying a few of his favorite snacks.
unfortunately.
your boyfriend refused to acknowledge your efforts.
you came home, singing a light "rin~"
you waited for a reply, receiving none at all. you were confused.
'hmm, hes never not greeted me before..'
you shrug it off, removing your coat and placing it in its usual spot. calling out to rin again, you made your way to your shared bedroom.
you walked in to find your boyfriend at the foot of your bed, who looked distressed. he looked angry and maybe even a little pale..
"hi rin"
he takes a moment to look you in the eye. once he did, you wish he hadn't.
"no text, no call, no fucking note?" he yells, causing you to flinch at the sudden change in mood. the room felt stuffy, making it hard to breathe. "you expect me to greet you with a warm hello after you leave me hanging for hours?"
the once calm suna you were used to was now blowing up in your face. you didn't know what to do.
"rinatrou-"
snapping once again, cutting you off, he says, "no don't even try to talk right now." he pulls out his phone.
on the screen he sees a picture of you and kita, your coworker, looking into each other's eyes with a smile on both faces.
your eyes flash to suna, then back at the screen. you begin to stammer and stumble over your words.
"can't say jackshit now, can you?" you panic. who took that photo? why did they take it?" so many thoughts sped through your mind and you couldn't keep up.
suna continued to bash you, yell at you. he failed to notice how you were on the verge of a breakdown. he failed to notice the short breaths you took, the slight tremble in your hands.
"rin, i can explain-"
"shut the fuck up," he yelled, "first you wanna stay out late with one of my friends, now you wanna tell me there was nothing going on in this picture?"
"baby, you have to believe me- nothing happened!" you were holding back tears at this point, and your boyfriend didn't bother to realize that fact.
"don't baby me you little attention-seeking whore."
you gasped. the last bits of your composure were now nowhere to be found.
his words left a foul taste in your mouth. the venom now building up at the back of your throat making it sting.
"fuck you, suna."
the sound of his last name rolling off your tongue was enough to snap him back out of the angry state he was in. suna? you've never called him suna since high school, he thought.
his heart dropped at the sight before him. tears running down the apples of your cheeks, hands trembling.
he tried to take a step closer to you, only causing you to back away simultaneously.
"y/n, baby, i-i'm so sorry-"
"don't."
panic and guilt filled his lungs to the brim. it was hard to breathe and he felt incredibly dizzy.
"c'mon baby, don't- don't be like this." he begged. his tone changed, his whole demeanor did as well.
you wanted nothing more than to succumb to his touch, allow his selfishness to comfort you, but you couldn't.
"i was at work." you begin, "kita- kita is my coworker. a-and, he took up my overtime hours.. so i could come home." you finish. nothing could explain the immense guilt your boyfriend-- well, ex, felt.
you don't know how you managed to make out all those words between your sniffles and hiccups.
"y/n, baby i am so sorry-" you stop him. your arm coming up to your face to wipe off the tears that won't stop falling.
you walk past suna, nudging his arm harshly with your shoulder. the snacks you previously bought now laying on the floor in front of him. he noticed a pink sticky note attached to the plastic, he could make out the words, "enjoy baby" with your name signed right beside it.
his heart sunk deeper. he yelled at you while all you did was think of him the whole time you were at work.
he was guilty, and nothing could explain how much he wanted to apologize.
he rushed over to the kitchen to find you downing a glass of water.
he made his way toward you, gently, cautiously.
"stay there, suna."
his last name stopped him. as if he was a robot, he listened instictively. you have never said his name in such a cold tone. it sent such a shiver down his spine.
"i'm staying the night at yachi's," you say, "reflect on your actions while i'm gone." you finish, walking past him once again to make your way back into the bedroom.
you begin stuffing clothes into the duffel bag, the sounds of ruffling were deafening to suna's ears.
he clears his throat, "y-you're.. uhm, you're leaving me?"
he chants please, please, please to any god or deity that would listen.
you look at him with the same eyes he stared you down with when you first entered the room.
"yeah." you pause, "i am."
and that's when it all came crumbling down. suna felt nothing but regret, hurt. his pleads weren't heard, and maybe it should stay that way.
"for good?-- y/n i'm sorry you now i-- i never meant any of it--"
"you said it," you say, tone firm with a slight wobble, "you still said it, suna."
he lower lip quivers as he holds back tears, "what about us? what about everything?"
you scoff.
"you seriously wanna talk about us when he had all the time to while we were arguing?" the disbelief in yours eyes and voice was seen and heard. "rin, how could there be us if you can't bother to trust me."
"i'll fix it, baby, i'll fix everything. me, us, everything--"
"just stop." you pinch the bridge of your nose, frustration building up once again. "i'll come back, okay? we'll talk then."
he could only nod upon your demands, worried that another word from him will change your mind.
"i'll be here." was the last thing he said before he heard the light click of the door.
its been over twenty-four hours since you've been home.
suna's doing everything he can to remain composed, but he can't.
he's biting his nails.
he never bites his nails.
he stopped the moment you came into his life, but now he's doing it because you might walk right out.
you kept up with his laziness, his half-assing self for so long.
will you finally cut the thread that's been holding on for way too long?
a million thoughts spiraled in his mind. he wishes you'd come here and soothe him. you always have.
and you will.
you were on your way home, on your way to suna.
you've made up your mind and you came back to tell him.
you were so lost in thought, you didn't realize you stood right in front of the all-too-familiar white door.
you were there and you didn't know if you could turn back now.
you inhale-- then exhale. now your hand is on the doorknob, heart beating increasingly fast.
you opened the door in one swift move. you step inside, then you hear the light sniffles and hics. the light shuffling sounds.
you turn around to find suna.
he's on the couch and he looks like a mess.
"suna." you call out.
he flinches upwards, turning to the direction of your voice.
he stood up. his tall figure towers over you.
you don't feel intimidated, but you feel the light fear surrounding him.
"a-are you getting your things-- i-i can help you pack. uhm.. your suitcase is upstairs, i'll bring it down-- there's food if you wanna eat-- i'll be in the guest bedroom so you don't have to deal with-"
you snap him out of the ramble he didn;t even know he was going on.
"you want me to.. leave?" you voice wavers as your lip wobbles, holding back indefinite tears.
"no!" his eyes widen. "i-i just thought you were here to get your belongings and that you wanted to leave me." he explains.
"fuck you, rintarou!" you gasp.
suna inches closer to you, hands up as if you're a fragile kitten that'll hiss and scratch him if he got too close.
you allow him to. you allow him back into the bubble you wanted to kick him out of.
"i'm so sorry baby." he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. he exhales into your hair, gasping lightly.
his hands were shaking a bit. he was praying that you'd hold him. that you'd hold him as if he was going to disappear in your clutches.
after a bit,
you did.
your hands clutched onto his shirt, praying-- begging.
you held onto each other for the longest time.
until you broke it by pulling away.
suna panicked, until you grabbed his hand firmly, leading him into the bedroom.
you placed him down on the bed, laying beside him.
"i love you, rin." you whisper, almost inaudible to the human ear. but, he heard it. and that was all he needed to sleep soundly the rest of the night.
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atsumu is literally so immature when it comes to arguing.
he will do absolutely everything he can to piss you off,
like the angrier you are, the more satisfied he is??
this argument was like no other,
until he says something that pushes you over the edge.
today was the absolute worst day so far.
you just witnessed your boyfriend, giggling and being too comfortable with the new manager.
everyone noticed, well- everyone but atsumu himself.
so when you and atsumu went home that evening, he couldn't understand why you were so upset. he was quite oblivious.
how could he not know what he did wrong? were there other women he was too-friendly with?
the thoughts in your head ticked you off even more.
"babe, c'mon, why are ya givin' me the silent treatment?" he says. "don't even know what i did." he mumbled.
"dunno, go ask the manager, you looked pretty close." you shrugged, a hint of passive aggressiveness laced your tone.
he scoffs, "oh so yer givin' me attitude now, too?"
you deadpan, "yeah, i am."
"ya can't be acting like sucha little bitch over me talkin' to other women."
"a little bitch? is that what i am to you?" your eyes widen, anticipating his answer.
"that's what yer acting like." he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
that only fired you up even more, as the already brewing anger grew stronger.
"i'm supposed to not be fucking worried about my boyfriend being all too friendly with another girl?" you sneer, "real fuckin' mature of you."
atsumu's face contorts with anger, "don't get me fuckin' started with ya, y/n."
"don't use that tone with me." you warn.
"how 'bout ya watch yers?"
he inches closer and closer, getting all up in your face.
"get the fuck away from me." you shriek.
"as you fuckin' wish, i don't wanna be around an attention-seeking whore."
you gasp.
the words repeat in your mind again and again. is that what he thinks of you?
you were only uncomfortable with his too-friendly demeanor around the pretty manager.
but that made you an attention seeker?
you hands found it's way to your lips. trying to stifle the sob that makes its way out.
the sob caught the attention of the fuming man in front of you.
as he realizes the destruction of his words, he rushes towards you immediately.
"baby-- ya know i didn't mean that.." his hand makes an effort to cup your cheek.
you push him off harshly.
"get the fuck away from me, miya." you grit, "you don't want the filth from an attention-seeking whore now, do you?"
he winced at the use of his own words against him.
a pang in his chest made it hard to breathe as he took in the sight before him.
he did this.
he's the reason you're sobbing into your hands.
he watches as you stumble your way into the bedroom.
he follows you around like a lost puppy. he knows that if he said something, you'd shut him down completely.
but, the moment you grabbed a bag and started stuffing it with clothes, what was he supposed to do?
"babe, c'mon.. yer not gonna try and leave me now, right?"
his remark was left unanswered.
panic begin to settle in his lungs.
he exhales heavily before trying again, "yer leavin' me?"
his eyes begin to water as he waited for your response.
you stop packing for a moment to look him right in the eyes. "you don't want an attention-seeking whore to stay around your home, right?"
you don't know why you continued to repeat those words.
his words cut deeper than a knife. it filled you with so much grief, and so much questions.
you couldn't believe that being insecure would make everyone, let alone your own boyfriend, perceive you as an attention seeker.
you were hurt. heartbroken, even.
was this the end of your relationship with atsumu?
you zip up the bag you stuffed with clothes before making your way out.
atsumu shifted nervously as he trailed closely behind you.
he waits until you both are directly in front of the door to speak up once again.
"i didn't mean it, baby, ya gotta know that." he says. you only shook your head before replying.
"if you didn't mean it, you wouldn't have said it at all."
"i was bein' stupid, only wanted ta make piss ya off enough." he explains, stuttering here and there.
you chuckle dryly, "well you got what you wanted, yeah?"
"n-no, i didn't mean that, i want ya to stay..." he tries, oh god, he tries so hard.
but nothing could have prepared him for the words to fall out of your mouth next,
"i'm leaving." you exhale. "i'll grab the rest of my shit tomorrow."
no.. no!
atsumu's world was falling apart, and he was doing nothing to salvage it?
"no wait baby, please. we can talk this out, yeah?" he tries to grasp your hand, but you only snatch it away.
you look at him.
tear-stained cheeks with red puffy eyes. atsumu's heart ached at the sight.
you sigh.
were you really going to leave him?
you're not ready to let him go, and the way he's beggging you to stay gives you a silver of hope.
"we'll talk when i get back." atsumu wasn't happy but that's the best it was gonna get. "get your shit straight 'til then."
he complies with ease.
you open the front door and walk out on him.
his heart ached. it felt like it got ripped out of his chest and crushed right before him.
but, he couldn't help it. he deserved it after all.
a few days had pass.
atsumu was beginning to think you've given up on him.
his heart stung at the thought, and tears prickled his eyes.
that was until the door swung open, revealing you.
his stood up so fast, rushing to reach for you.
he was right in front of you, taking in your scent and appearance.
bags under your eyes, and you look tired as hell.
"i missed you, 'tsum."
he his heart did a leap when he heard that..
you wrapped your arms around him as if he'd been gone for years.
he reciprocated. how could he not? he missed you so much it physically hurt to be without you. he could never picture his life the same without you in it.
he gasped into your hair, thanking every god and deity he could. he thanks them for bring his baby back to him.
now that you're back in his arms, he swears with his life that he'll never let you walk out with tears in your eyes that way again.
"i love you, baby." he whispers. "thank ya for coming back ta me."
he cradles you in his arms, hoping that he'll never have to let go again.
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596 notes · View notes
belovedharringrove · 2 years
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hi, should i start a tag list for these?
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—-
[the sound of a phone ringing about 4 times]
[a click, followed by a shaky exhale]
— hello? steve?
— h-hey, rob. how’s it going?
— wha- have you been crying?
— why’d you call? you never call. i could spend hours calling you and you’d never pick up-
— answer the question, steve. have you been crying?
— um, no–
— yes, he has!
— chrissy!
— she’s worried about you, stevie! just tell her what happened, i’m sure she’ll understand.
— tell me what happened? did something happen? are you both okay? oh crap, i’m with billy right now, do you guys need us to pick you up or something–?
— rob. robin. we’re fine.
— you sure?
— yeah, we don’t need you to pick us up. we’re almost in hawkins, anyways.
— then tell me what happened, steve. you never cry! as a matter of fact, the last time i saw you cry was when you thought that e– that your crush was dating another person.
[silence, broken only by the faint sounds of horns honking]
— steve?
— i– i saw my dad at some fancy bar in indiana.
— okay? and what happened?
— just– did you know he has grey hairs now? i never knew. the last time i saw him, i was 12. i haven’t even seen the guy in pictures.
— and?
— i wanted to say hi, y’know? i haven’t seen him in years and i wanted to see how he was doing and i wanted to see if mom was around so i could say hi to her, a-and–
[there’s a pause on the line, followed by the sound of a stifled sob]
— he was talking to some guys and as i was approaching, i-i heard them asking if he was from around there and he said that no, t-that he’s from hawkins but he decided to rent a hotel room in indianapolis because–
[another pause, this time a bit longer and accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing and quiet sobs]
— …steve?
— he– he said he doesn’t want to go to hawkins because he can’t face his– his disappointment of a son.
— what?!
— a-and then–
— wait, there’s more?
— –i turn to leave bec-because it hurt, y’know? hearing that hurt me. a lot. and as i- as i turn to leave, i see my mom talking with some other women and- rob. robin.
— …yes?
— she’s pregnant. she’s fucking pregnant and they never bothered to tell me. i-i probably wouldn’t have even found out if i hadn’t seen her!
— oh, steve–
— we made eye contact! and she just turned her fucking face away like she didn’t know me! her own goddamn son!
— steve…
— ro-robin. robin?
— yeah?
— am i a disappointment?
— no- no! no, steve! absolutely not! and don’t you dare listen to what that asshole says, i swear that if i ever see him i’m gonna shove my foot so far up his–
— robin?
— wha– yes? what is it?
— we, uh– me and chrissy are in hawkins now. can you…
— can i what? don’t be afraid to ask anything of me right now, steve. i’m willing to even run all the way to indianapolis to beat the shit out of your dad.
[there’s a pause and then slightly hysterical laughter]
— can you come over to my house? i need– please. i-i don’t want to be alone.
— of course, dingus. i’ll tell billy to drop me off there and when you guys arrive, he can drop chrissy off at her house. is that okay?
— y-yeah. thanks.
— no problem, steve.
— okay, i– i’m gonna hang up now. i’ll see you soon.
— absolutely, don’t think about what your sperm donor said, alright? see you in a few.
— sperm–
[a wet giggle, followed by a small sniffle]
— okay, okay. thanks, rob. bye.
[a dial tone]
103 notes · View notes
Note
Hey BPP, I am guessing you know about the big news by now lol.
I wanted to ask you something—since Hybe released a statement earlier this year saying that they hope that the decision for the enlistment is done soon, do you think that BTS was waiting until July before they finalized their decision? The government already extended their final decision announcement twice ? I think. And then when it was postponed, maybe BTS said fuck this shit and started prep for it then they dropped the bomb without alerting the government? If so, this is such a power move on their part. A lot of armys are saying that may be this is why NJ changed his Cypher pt3 lyrics to You can’t control my shit. It would make sense bec he’s done it a lot of times before, esp when he feels like his thoughts or circumstances have changed.
Translation of the kr statement also said that Hybe will be withdrawing Jin’s extension request so he can start his preparations asap. It looks like he wants to go in by EOY. Tbh it makes me respect them, especially Jin more because he showed that the antis are wrong and he won’t be turning back on his duty. It’s been the number one thing hes criticised for in the last few years right ? BTS are so freaking classy !!!
**
Hi Anon,
It’s been… a day. (Other Anons and KPFT, I see your asks, and believe me I’ll get to them before the end of this week, but right now a lot is happening personally and with Bangtan so please be patient.)
I like how you’re thinking through the events of the last few months Anon, and I largely agree with you.
Something I’ve always said is that I believe BTS go on to do their full service, whether or not they get exemption. In fact I wrote my feeling was that the government would give them some sort of reduced term/alternative service, and BTS would decline it, to do the full service anyway. Because BTS has been the only party that never asked for exemption (Big 3 agencies have been using BTS to lobby for their own artists getting exempted since 2018. HYBE/Big Hit was never even present at the early meetings, while every K-pop agency from SM, JYP, YG, baited the government with BTS to argue that their artists were at a similar level and should be exempted); and the boys know that the only people who benefit from them doing an alternate service, is the military - as all monetary gain made during the enlistment period goes to the military/government.
The issue now though, is that the military and government is now trying to find a way to further exploit the boys by forcing them to do performances while they’re in service, knowing that every Won, Dollar, and Cent will be going into military coffers.
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*
Loool. Like just sit with that for a bit. Think about it. And imagine how tired the boys must feel after seeing the government do this for 4 years. Like there’s so much about BTS that I cannot help but respect and why I can’t take any of their antis (in all their forms) seriously, because if you fully understood the sort of system they operate within, if you fully grasped the levels of ignorance, contempt, greed and hate that surrounds them on a constant basis, and how they maneuver with grace and intelligence in this system... Like, I’ve talked about domestic hate campaigns (partly funded by government relatives) against smaller artists like Tablo simply because he excelled academically at an American university on this blog before… like I’m not sure how else to express what’s been happening on this particular topic y’all. But there’s a lot here that’s fucked up.
Like there’s a reason the government isn’t asking SuperM or Stray Kids or Taemin, or any of the EXO boys to do any of what they’re now contemplating (in broad daylight on the national evening news) for BTS. Certainly not on the same scale. So basically, expect more BS from this administration for the next little while. Koreans have a saying that very much applies here, but I’m holding my tongue until the full details come out on what the military plan to do. I really hope I never have to say it.
Which brings me back to your comment on BTS changing the lyrics in Cypher Pt 3. The boys are already acting on their own terms, as they always said they would, and they seem to have anticipated further shenanigans from the gov, if I’m reading all this correctly.
- Jin was supposed to enlist end of 2020 after a massive world tour, but stuff happened and because BTS met the criteria for postponement after receiving the highest National award (for merit) in 2018, they pushed back that plan and made ad-hoc preparations given the pandemic and Grammy nominations, among other things. Today, BigHit announced Jin has withdrawn that postponement application (the 1st step to begin his full enlistment), and will be going to the military to do his full service.
- They’ll be going likely one after the other or in units to return by 2025 (my guess is H2 2025), meaning it will be staggered such that there won’t ever be a full OT7 serving at the same time, so in the event the government forces them to do performances, they won’t ever be working with a full slate.
And we get back to OT7 BTS in roughly 2.5 years.
912.5 days
21,900 hours
I hope the boys are given a choice on this military performance stunt, because I’m nearly certain they’ll reject it (unless maybe it’s for something like the Grammys Idk).
But in any case, they will be fine. Even with all this said, I’m not worried for them, because ultimately, they will always choose to do what they know is best for them. Just look at how they’ve navigated the last few months:
- Announced a hiatus, travelled and had fun at their own pace
- Focused on their solo music projects
- Accepted an ambassador role put upon the guys last minute
- Paid out of their own pockets to put on the OT7 concert of the decade for their fans, for free
- Announced they will begin their full military service regardless of what the government has been doing for the last 4 years.
*
My guess on how the solo music roll-out will go
Q4 2022 - Jin single/RM release
Q1 2023 - RM release / Suga release
Q2 2023 - JM release
H2 2023 - V release / JK release
Q1 2024 - JK release
*a Release could mean single, EP, full album, etc.
I’m not concerned about the boys, and the fandom seems to be handling the news well enough, but I’m a bit concerned about ARMY ‘overreactions’ to the government’s continued nonsense. By now it should be clear that no matter the facts, no matter how valid it is to be upset about an injustice or wrong action, ARMYs and the boys will likely be vilified by those who have an interest in doing so. So fingers crossed that all 40 million of us don’t go ape shit.
Lol.
I’ll be IA most of the next few days because it’s getting late and I’ve hardly slept this past weekend, and will have to catch a flight early in the morning to return to a busy week of work, as I’m sure is the same for a lot of you.
I’ll be streaming with several instances of Magic Shop, Paradise, Run BTS, Reflection, Best of Me, Dis-ease, Ugh, and What Do You Think, on repeat.
💜
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moregraceful · 1 year
Note
9, 11, & 15 for quinn and brady in other-vancouver!
the world can hold quite still aka quinn hughes's big adventure in other vancouver!! under a cut bc i can't shut up ty becs ily
9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?
oh good question. no! there are many versions in my head about other vancouver (the sedins are elder gods, elias is an elder god but he doesn't know it like a fucked up percy jackson also brock is a plant witch in love with him, alexander edler is the only person who calms troy's ghosts who are slowly killing him, thatcher demko california goalie who hopes vancouver doesn't hate him is the coyote king of vancouver, what was going on with rogers arena.....) that are just straight up urban fantasy but not really any other versions of the quinn/brady story. they were always just a very tender love story that came together very easily in my heart and once i figured it out i didn't really want to explore it from any other angle. (also bc maggie requested a) that verse and b) the nucklings. and the 2019-2020 sens are fully beyond my comprehension lol. there is FOR SURE a brady story but it would require way more research on the ottawa senators than i am currently willing to do hahaha.)
also, unrelated entirely to quinn and brady, someone commented on jack laughing in his sleep, saying "there's a whole other world" in it which i didn't consider while i was writing, but now i'm like, give $5 to boston pride hockey and i will write a spin off of a spin off of jack hughes's interiority and the way his dreams are always happy (and the one time they're not?) and what happens in other new jersey and also how he and quinn are each other's touchstone
(at some point i assume you all will get sick of ambiguous endings and then i'll really be in trouble lol)
11: What do you like best about this fic?
oh man i kinda said this is in my comment response to you but i really liked how easily this one came together once i started. the mattdrai one was very difficult because there was a lot of worldbuilding and a lot of leaps of faith bc it was built on a premise that just is never going to happen, but the qhughes in other vancouver is like...that's a real love story. not in a tinhat way, just in a way where there is very clearly years of love and affection between brady and quinn (in whatever form that takes, not my business what their business is). it's easy to take something that exists and just play with it in an other world. it came together very easily for me bc there's a very real element of care. also bc i am often in the rarepair trenches, it was kinda nice to just poke around at something that is way more tangible and has more documented history than like. well you know the shit i usually write lol
but also this is my favorite part:
Brady jams a stick against his shin, trying to get the puck out from under him. “Stay safe,” he whispers to Quinn. “Please stay safe for me. Please, Quinn. God, I hope this isn’t what it’s like for you. I hope your dreams are never as bad as this one is. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”
“What?” says Quinn, turning all the way around, knocking Brady off balance through pure adrenalized shock.
Brady kicks the puck out from next to Quinn’s skate. He knocks his visor against Quinn’s. “I love you so much, Quinn,” he says fiercely. “I hope I wake up soon.” He bats the puck away from Quinn and races off down the rink.
brady wants him to stay safe :( brady loves him so much :(
15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
THAT I SHOULD NEVER TRY TO WRITE A FIC IN 100 WORD SCENES JFC it was like writing the world's worst twtfic for no reason. on that note, keeping a strict word count for scenes can be very helpful for writing when you're stuck! 100 words was...insane, considering the worldbuilding i wanted to do in this fic, but telling myself, ok, you have 500 words per scene, go, that was actually a really good writing exercise AND helped me get better at nailing down what exactly i wanted to convey in a scene, over just saying whatever. my first draft sucked bc i couldn't wrap any scenes up, like they were just going on and one forever without any real purpose, so i really enjoyed giving myself a strict word count per scene and working under that. i think it made me a better writer and it's also something i've been playing more with in subsequent fics, giving myself strict word count rules.
thank you for asking ily!!!!
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twistedtavern · 2 years
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I've been thinking of a fairy tale inspired fic where the dorm leaders are all classic fairy tale villain archetypes (Vil is a stepmother, malleus is obviously a dragon, Azul is a witch, for maximum irony Riddle is a giant, etc), Neige is your typical protagonist prince charming, and Yuu is the run of the mill kidnapped damsel in distress.
The plot goes that Yuu is Vil's stepchild, and they're a decently happy family, but one day have an argument while they're walking on the main road, and Prince Neige just so happens to be riding by on his horse at that time. He sees them arguing, hears Vil say something pretty uncalled for, and takes it upon himself to just ride up and snatch Yuu.
Now Vil is, clearly, VERY unhappy about this stepchild snatching predicament, and tries going after them, but the speed of running in heels is not comparable to the speed of a horse, and Yuu is gone before he knows it. The rest of the story is just him heading towards the castle to go get his stepchild back, and meeting the other 6 people Neige had also wronged/tricked/stole from (because fairy tale protagonists are just built Like That). The plot just goes like this
Vil: He kidnapped my stepchild!!
Riddle: Oh deadass? He stole my harp I'm coming with you >:(
Leona: That bitch shot the forest unicorn and I gotta avenge it to become the forest king so I'm coming too
Azul: Oh shit if he kidnapped somebody he's probably gonna be having that firstborn child he promised me soon, mind if I join
Kalim: Yeah he cheated me out of my entire castle AND the golden mountain it's on, not cool >:(
and in chapter 5 Neige shows up bec he's out hunting and manages to evade capture but only after dropping that he plans on forcing Yuu to marry him bec of some sort of other past agreement he had with Ambrose or smth so the party keeps going
Idia: yeah im literally satan and he owes me his whole entire soul so um yeah move over
Malleus: HE TOOK MY BABY 😭
Vil: yeah he took mine too come with us
Malleus: ok >:,(((
And they all pull up on the day of the wedding and Yuu gets saved and they all beat the shit out of Neige or smth idk I don't usually write Neige this evil
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fandomout · 3 years
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Lip Gallagher X Reader
Gif Credit-Basura 2.0
Don't mind the suit.
Basically, your having a pool day with the Gallagher family, and Lip finding you more interesting than anything else going on. This is more toward high school era of Lip's life.
Everyone is playing and swimming around in the pool.
”Hey guys you guys should play Knockdown.” Debbie suggests.
”Yes! That would be so much fun. Me and Lip are a team.” Karen grabs Lip’s arm possessively.
”Oh, Me and Y/N!” Ian calls out. The adults played for a little until they decided to start preparing the food. The only teams left were Karen and Lip, Ian and you, and Debbie and Carl. Although Carl tries his best to cheat, he fails to win and loses. You readied yourself on Ian’s muscular shoulder and mutter, ”Wow! Ian you’re ripped. You do lots of exercise for training, right?” as you bend over to look at Ian’s face.
”Yeah. Thanks.” Ian gives a warm smile. Ian’s eyes meet Lip’s jealous eyes and smirks before splashing his face. You guys play and time flies. Before you know it, Kevin is screaming, “Food!” Everyone rushes inside for the 1st grabs at food. You see that some aren’t so lucky like to get he 1st rounds. You spot Debbie and hand her your plate. She smiles at you and you pat her head. She runs off, and you sit in waiting for your turn. Lip sees this interaction and feels his heart warm up. Some more food gets to the table. Carl tries to hog all of it. You almost wouldn’t have had a change if it weren’t for Lip’s interference. Lip slapped Carl upside the head and waved him off before gesturing for you to have at it. You uttered, “Thanks.”
After eating, you headed outside, but you didn’t head back to the pool. Instead, you lay on one of their chairs and closed your eyes. It’s suddenly darker. You open your eyes to see it was Lip, and he asks, “What are you doing?”
“Lying down in the sun, digesting.” Lip laughs at the comment and sits next to you, and he just stares at you. You narrow your eyes slightly and ask him, Is there a problem or something?”
”No! It’s not that. I just thought it was so nice today. Kind of got me thinking about how you're so nice.” Lip admits.
”You must have been through lots of shit to be concerned with my nice.”
“You bet I’ve been through shit. It’s just there so much bad shit that happens, and it’s hard to see and feel nice.”
“I’m sure that’s not 100% true. You have to have at least some happy moments even for a moment. Just because there’s bad shit doesn’t mean you have to become part of it. It’s just how you decide to be. Even though I've got some shitty situations goin on, I still try to be the way I am because I don’t want to end up crappy with the world.” You rambled. Lip hears every word you say and finds your point alluring. He falls into the words you say. He focuses on the way your mouth and facial expression changes with each few words. He can feel the power of your words. When you finish speaking, Lip is left staring at you. ”Sorry. I didn't mean to get into some deep shit or anything. It just happened.”
”It’s fine. I actually enjoyed hearing what you had to say, and I think your right about it all, so don’t go feeling bad about speaking your mind and telling it like it is.” Lip gets close to you as he speaks and puts a hand on your thigh to rub it comforting. You look at his hand then up at him to meet eyes.
”I guess I’ll try.” Are the only words you can think to say while you falls into the blueness of Lips eyes while Lip; meanwhile, Lip does the same as he enjoyed looking in your eyes. Both of you only looking away when a loud cough brings both of yours attention’s back to the world. Both of you snap your eyes to see Ian eyeing both of you. He stands almost guarded and asks, ”You guys coming back or what?“ You give him a sheepish smile and immediately walks ahead of Ian and Lip and go back to the pool with the others, which left Ian to stare at Lip with an expression that Lip can't read. In turn, Lip had to ask, ”What?”, hoping to get some clarity from Ian. However, Ian responds, ”Nothing.”, which left a confused Lip. and walks away. By now it’s around 7:30, Everyone is winding down, hanging out, listening and singing to music. You were in the pool chilling with Ian when Ian gets a text.
”Hey. I've got to go, but I'll be back.“ Ian says getting out of the pool and going inside. As you lay back in the pool, you over hear Karen attempting to persuade Lip to go to the house, but he clearly doesn’t want to as you sit up in the water and see him pull his arm away from her. You almost laugh out as you see Karen’s responds is to put and ask, “Lip why don't you want to go?” His eyes snap over to you for a second. It was so fast you’d miss it, but you knew he’d looked at you. The intensity of the glance making you look down as you await his next words, which were, ”I just don't want to. If you want it badly, call someone else up or just go home if you want.” He said it with some annoyance and that surprised you. Karen huffs out and states, ”Fine. I will go home and call up someone with a really big dick.” with a smirk on her face, and she stomps off like a child to grab her things and exit the Gallagher house. Lip walks over to you as he scratches the back of his neck and says, “Sorry about that.” You shrug and reply, “Shit happen. There’s no reason to apologize to me...I mean...” You trail off with an idea popping of in your head. You hold back your smile as you resume serious and say, “I should be the one whose sorry bec-”
“You sorry? Don’t be. You have nothing to do with that. I mean, yes, I have feelings for you, but you aren’t apart of me not wanting Karen...” He lays both his hand on the pool rim firmly. You stand and laugh out. Lip looks to you and wears a small innocent grin along with his confused expression to ask, “Are you seriously laughing at the confession?” You tap his chest with your palm gently and utter, “No. It’s not that.”
“Then, what?”
“I was just gonna say that while you and Karen angrily discussed that I really wanted to laugh. She looks so funny, and you were so annoyed. It was hilarious.“
“Oh?” He really analyzes the situation at hand as exclaims, “Oh!” You nod and say, “Yeah.”
“Guess I didn’t need to cut you off like that.”
“Don’t sweat it. We can forget it.”
“Not letting me die of embarrassment? How kind.”
“I try.” You say and splash back into the water a bit. He smiles and looks around before asking,” Where’s your best friend, Ian?”
“He went to take a call or somethin. It’s whatever.” He crosses his arms before leaning down against the railing, so he could rest his chin on them. He look the cutest not to mention the muscles, but you tried to shake off the thoughts. He starred at you for a second too long and stated, “There’s something I’ve definitely learned since being around you.”
“What might that be?”
“Your always alone. I always seem to find you alone.” You swim up to him and get close to answer and tease, ”Maybe you that think that because you're always looking for me.” He quirks an eyebrow at you before moving his head a little more forward towards yours. You move your head back startled. He smirks and yells, “Geronimo!” before launching himself from the railing and floor into the pools. You dive down and open your eye sunder water to see him right above you. You swim back up to the surface, and Lip follows after. He burst out laughing as soon as he catches his breathe, so it’s your turn to be confused. However, you shake the confusion off and hit him a bit and admit, “You scared me.” He stops laughing and says, “You should of seen your face.”
“Why would you do that?”
“To one up you. I mean you’re so so right.” He trials off and moves closer toward you, which leads to your back against the pool. “I do find myself looking at you...at you. I can’ seem to help it.” I mean that in the most not creepy way though.” The seriousness in his voice catches you off guard more than the behavior since he’s always such a smartass and or sarcastic just anything but serious with you. The only words to utter are, “I-You-Well…” He gives a small grin followed by the words, “Cat got your tongue?“ The next thing you know water is splashed on your face. You look toward him and splash back, and you both stay that way contently.
Hope your day got better!
819 notes · View notes
fandomsonrequests · 3 years
Text
unexpected friend
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fandom: ATEEZ
characters: choi san
reader: fem
word count: 5.4k
summary:  fate decided to test this decade long feud between you and choi san
notes: enemies to lovers AU, toxic themes, character death, substance abuse (it’s not explicit) such as alcohol and cigarettes, heavy themes, language, violence 
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You had no idea where it started— you just knew that you hated Choi San with every fiber of your being. And unsurprisingly, the feeling is mutual with you.
Maybe it started in kindergarten when he accidentally pushed you to the ground in the game of tag. You got so mad at him, saying that he meant it when he obviously didn’t, calling him stupid because “all boys are stupid.”. Or maybe it started when you knocked over his tower of building blocks as revenge. Or was it when he dipped your pigtails in paint to get back at you? Or maybe the time he spread rumors that you had cooties causing everyone to avoid you like the plague.
Whatever the reason, it spiraled into a childhood rivalry that continued as you grew older. The endless cycle of cat versus dog, taking revenge on one another, followed into grade school, where you reached your horse phase and he reached his gun dam phase. It was inevitable you’d see him again— you both lived in a fairly small town after all.
Petty actions like drawing on the other’s homework turned into stealing each other’s lunches or setting some sort of prank at each other’s seats— whatever your ten-year-old brains could think of. Your screaming matches grew even worse and at one point, you both started throwing punches. The teachers always had to watch you during breaks because eventually, you’d be on top of each other and pulling at each other’s hair.
San had an advantage of course since he took taekwondo, you always ended up as the loser. But in retaliation, you managed to convince your mother to enroll you in some other martial art to protect yourself. And when you won your first little fistfight— you always made sure to lord it over him.
“Hah, you got beat by a little girl! Not so tough now huh potato-head?”
“Shut up horse-face!”
San saw your kindness and charisma towards others as an act. It was your own way of reeling others in to be on your side, gathering some sort of army to help you gang up against him. You on the other hand managed to convince yourself that his cute little dimples and selflessness for others was a facade, You couldn’t believe how many people he’s managed to fool or turn against you. And you’ve always hated him for that. You let it fester as you go through grade school and towards middle school. That hatred you harbored for him was always lit inside you.
Your parents and his were always apologizing to each other during parent-teacher meetings or school events, having to hold you back from jumping on one another. Your dad had given up on the whole thing so he was totally useless; that left you to run to your mother for comfort. Whatever the situation was, at the end of the day, she was always on your side.
“Things will blow over soon. But please, honey, try to stay out of trouble for me?”
So when she died in your junior year of high school, you couldn’t help but feel alone. Your dad had taken to smoking to cope with the loss, marrying a woman who was in love with alcohol while bringing her two hellish twin daughters with her into your home. Things grew miserable for you at home; your dad became a pathetic pushover, letting his new wife run the household. That made you angry— how could he get over your mother so easily? How could he let himself get walked over like that? How could he ignore the way your older step-sisters trampled all over you?
How could he let all this happen?
San’s endless taunting at school didn’t help either. His harmless pranks grew worse as time passed: spray-painting some nasty words on your locker, or setting a bucket of paint on top of the gym doors since you’re always the last one to head out. You’d heed your mother’s words, always doing your best to ignore him. For a while, it had worked and he pestered you less than usual but your mom’s death and the situation at home had triggered something in you, making you snap back. You’d shove his face down into his food during lunch or knock his books down the stairwell whenever you pass by each other. You had even managed to sneak some of the insects from the lab into his gym clothes, causing him to end up with nasty rashes all over his body for a week.
Your physical fights weren’t frequent but they became more violent, with one or both of you having to go to the nurses, holding an ice pack to your busted lips while a piece of gauze was stuck up his bloodied nose. It took several students or even teachers to pull you apart because most of the time no one wanted to jump in and separate you two; it was always so messy with fists and kicks flying everywhere. There was even one point where you both had to go to the hospital for fractured bones. You were both suspended for a week.
Fortunately, things had toned down now that you both were in your final year of high school with the pressure of college and meeting requirements looming over you. Although, neither of you managed to make up. You’d still exchange some foul words but the stupid pranks and fights had simmered down. That never meant you were on good terms though.
But then fate decided to be a little shit and put you in a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in.
Your new biology teacher didn’t seem to be informed about the decade-long feud between you and San. So when she assigned the both of you as partners, you felt your heart drop to your stomach as a sick feeling crawled over you. You wanted to cry and throw up at the same time- that’s just how much you despised him. You both tried to plead with her to change partners but she was as stubborn as a mule, insisting that you two can “sort out your differences” and finish this project as a team.
And now here you were, avoiding each other’s stares despite being sat next to each other. The proximity between you two was suffocating, it made it hard to focus on the project being explained to you by your cruel teacher. Your skin tingles unpleasantly whenever either of you shifted in your seat, your arms just several centimeters away from touching each other. Many thoughts ran through your head on how you can get out of this. But you knew that you had to find some time to work on the damn thing together or else you’d flunk high school— and being stuck in community college, never being able to leave this town, was not worth hitting San at the back of the head and gloating at him.
“You have the rest of the period to plan with each other. Make sure to have your presentation set and ready for next week.” Your teacher says and sits at her desk.
The room was filled with chatter as the students started conversing with each other. Many pairs threw knowing stares at you, worried that you’d be at each other’s throats. Surprisingly you weren’t… at least not yet anyway.
For a while, neither of you said anything to each other. San simply scrolled through his phone hidden under his desk while you organized your final notes. Minutes tick by and the class slowly comes to an end. With a heavy sigh, you decided to swallow your pride and talk to the guy.
You turn to the boy, roughly shoving his knee with yours and he sends you an irritated glare. “C’mon we need to plan for this.” You deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you.
San returned the sigh and pocketed his phone, shifting to face you. “Alright then. So what’s the plan?”
“That’s what we’re supposed to be talking about, dumbass.” You mutter, growing irritated. You clench your fists together in an attempt to keep your calm before continuing. “Anyway, we’re supposed to make some model of the nerve cells then present it.”
San stays quiet for a moment before speaking up. “My sister has some spare clay and wires from her sculpting hobby. I could ask for some.”
“Great. You work on that while I work on the script.” You conclude before going back to your notes.
“Hold on- you’re gonna leave me with all of the hard work?”
“We have the same workload?? I’m making the script.”
“That’s easy- scripts can be finished within a day or something.” San shot back, finding the arrangement you had set, without his consultation by the way, as unfair.
“Then I’ll help you when I’m done. Quit whining like a bitch.” You sigh, having no energy to continue the argument with him.
“Asshat…” He mumbles under his breath, pulling out his phone to text his sister. He expected some sort of retaliation from you but you simply remained quiet. That was odd- considering that you never missed the chance to have the last word in. Maybe you just weren’t feeling it today.
Nevertheless, he ignored you, deciding that it wasn’t worth pestering you at the moment. The bell rings, signaling the end of the class, and you’re immediately up and out of your seat, stuffing your notebook into your bag and swinging it over your shoulder. It almost hits San’s cheek in the process but you were already walking out the door before he could call you out on it.
“Geez…” He huffs and keeps his own things, glaring after you while hoping that time would fly by fast so that the project was done and over with.
~~
A few days have passed by since the biology class. True enough, you’ve finished writing and even printing the script within the day the project was assigned to you. So now you were stuck helping out San with sculpting the whole model. You two would work together at the back of the library after school. Initially the librarian was hesitant about letting the two of you inside given your reputation and all. But when she saw that neither of you were at each other’s throats, surprisingly, she allowed for you to work on it in the library.
Of course you and San still had some disputes— how it’s supposed to be positioned, what shape it’s supposed to take, yadda yadda. But it had never escalated into a full blown argument because it always ended up with you taking the blow of his harsh words. That alone started to concern the boy, you’d always get back at him. But your resigned silence after every quip he threw at you started to worry him. Sure he hated your guts but San wasn’t a nasty person. He knew something was bothering you. But, he never took the initiative to ask what was bothering you; it wasn’t his problem anyway.
~~
A weekend away from Monday aka the day of your presentation. The model was almost done— it just needed a paint job. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, meaning the school was closed, neither of you were able to work at your usual spot. So San decided to just take the whole thing to your home to finish it. Of course he could finish the whole thing himself but he had a party to attend later in the evening, and he didn’t want to miss out on it.
He arrives at your home, model in one hand and a crate of paints in the other. He takes note of the absence of your dad’s and step-sister’s cars in the driveway and assumed that you were all out. He sighs in frustration, hoping that that wasn’t the case. Jogging up to the porch, the boy sets down the crate and rings the doorbell a couple of times, foot tapping against the wooden floorboards as he waits.
When there was no response after a few minutes he tried again, this time ringing the doorbell a bit more frantically. Before he could turn around and head back home after getting no response, he hears frantic footsteps scurrying inside and steps back as the door swings open. There you were, hair looking like a bird’s nest while your week-old cardigan hung off your shoulders. There were dark circles under your eyes and you looked like a hobo who had the opportunity to clean after themselves. In other words: you were a mess.
“The fuck are you doing here?” You snap the minute your hazy mind registers that San was standing at your door.
The said boy snaps out of his own trance and shoves the model in your face. “We need to finish this.”
You stare at the figure in his hand then to the crate by his foot and then to his face that displayed an expectant expression. You sigh and rub your face. “Couldn’t you have finished it yourself?”
“I’m busy later.”
Another sigh leaves you and you step back to let him in. He enters the house, leaving his shoes by the door as he looks around the place. It was a bit messier than he had expected. There were rumpled coats hanging off of the arm of the couch, a small pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of cheap beer on the coffee table. The wallpaper was starting to fade with a few faint stains here and there.
San stays quiet as he follows you through the house, seeing the small stack of dishes waiting to be washed in the sink. He turns back to look at you, finding your silence as unnerving. You only trudged up the stairs, motioning for you to follow him. He expected to see you turn down the hallway and enter one of the rooms but was quite surprised to see you stop by a frayed rope hanging from the ceiling of the hall. You reach up and tug down on it, revealing the ladder towards the attic.
“Don’t tell me you live up there,” San jabs.
“Yeah and what of it?” You grumble, sending him a tired glare over your shoulder before climbing up the ladder.
He was stunned into silence when he realized that you were serious. He bites his tongue and refrains from jeering at you, handing the box of paints to you before climbing up. Several thoughts ran through his mind— why was your room in an attic? And since when did you start smoking and drinking? Was it even yours?
His head pokes into the surprisingly clean but small room. Your bed was pressed up near the slanted wall of the roof, several polaroids of you, your few friends, and your mother plastered along it. On the opposite side was your desk and your wardrobe whose paint was starting to chip off. Several boxes, labeled and not labeled, were pushed to the corner of the room, stacked in a way for them to take up less space.
San looks to you rummaging through your desk, probably finding a brush or something. He wordlessly steps into the room and pulls the rope, closing the trapdoor beneath him. He turns to you again and before he could stop himself, he found himself blurting the question that was plaguing his mind: “What the hell happened to you?”
You turn on your heel, almost knocking over the picture frame of you and your mom. Your hand reached out to steady it before answering San. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”
“Why do you live up here?” He motioned to the whole attic space with his arm. “Don’t you have a room downstairs?”
“I do.” You simply say and take the crate of paints, pulling out the needed colors and some paper cups for you to place them in.
When you don’t elaborate, San squats down to your level on the ground and tugs the purple paint tube out your hand. “What happened to it?”
“Why do you care?” You snatch the tube back with a hiss, preparing all the things needed. “It’s none of your business…”
The boy sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. He nibbles at his cheeks, carefully going over what he wanted to say. “...look, _____,” he starts, voice surprisingly gentle. “You don’t have to tell me everything but you don’t have to keep everything in.”
You don’t answer him or make any move to acknowledge what he had said. But you were listening; part of you decided to take down your walls for just a moment and hear what he has to say. And San seemed to sense this because he continues.
“I’m not gonna say that ‘I’m here for you’ and all that crap but, there are people who're willing to listen to you. Whatever you’re going through right now, no matter how big or small it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”
Again, you don’t respond. A moment of silence full of high strung tension passed by. It was only a few seconds but it felt longer than that— especially since you both stopped in what you were doing and stared at the ground or at each other’s hands.
You always hated San but you couldn’t help but sense the sincerity in his words. It’s kind of pathetic but at the moment, his genuinity, the softness of the way he spoke was what you were craving for. At that moment, you just wanted assurance that things will be okay and that whatever you were doing in life wasn’t useless. And the guy you seemed to hate most was offering you that.
Tears prick at your eyes and you hastily brush it away with the sleeve of your cardigan, refusing to show any weakness to your nemesis. But it was hard; once the tears started flowing it was difficult for you to stop. You play it off by finishing up in preparing the paints, suppressing any hiccups or sobs that would escape before eventually giving up and bringing your legs up to your chin, crying into your sweats. Fuck it if San sees.
You curled up into yourself, crying into your pants when you felt a gentle but hesitant hand on your shoulder. You jolt at the touch, seeing San back away quickly. His brows were furrowed in concern and his lips were pursed, almost as if he were thinking about what he was going to say.
“G-go on, gloat,” You hiccup, choking on your tears. “I look like a m-mess anyway…”
You were surprised, and a little bit embarrassed, that he didn’t follow with what you said. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small packet of tissues and handing it over to you. He looked up to your desk, seeing your water container on your desk. He stands up to take it, shaking it to check if there was still some water in it, before placing it by your foot.
“I’m not going to lie, you are a mess,” San says before returning to his previous spot on the floor. “But I guess that’s normal when you’re having a shitty day.”
“More like a shitty life…” You mumble. You chug down the rest of your water, managing to stop your tears as you wipe them away with the tissues. You look up at the boy across you and sigh heavily. “It’s my step-mom,” you say.
“I’m sorry?”
“My step-mom. She made me move up here so that her daughters could take my room.” You explain. “My dad didn’t say anything because he’s a pushover, wasting his life away on cigarettes and the alcohol his wife buys…”
San nods slowly in understanding, finally making sense of what he saw in the living room and kitchen. That explained a lot of things: why you would always faintly smell of alcohol or nicotine a few months after your mother had died. It had honestly shocked him to hear that— your dad and step-mom always looked presentable in public. Your step-sisters were a bit more extravagant but neat nonetheless. The way they talked and carried themselves didn’t seem to indicate that they had any substance addiction.
Thinking back on it, it had also explained why you were so irate and moody almost all the time, leading to you losing some friends in high school as you fell back into yourself or into violence. It was a defense mechanism— you didn’t want to seem vulnerable because at home, you were vulnerable enough.
An idea pops into his head and he promptly stands up, momentarily making you jump from his sudden movement. You look up at him, puzzled. “What?”
“Come with me.”
“What???”
“I said get up and come with me.” San says and actually held his hand out to you.
You look at it skeptically before looking up at him, contemplating about any consequences in following him— if there were any. He wiggles his fingers, impatiently coaxing you to join him and you finally make up your mind. Might as well follow him; you had nothing to lose anyway.
You swat his hand away to get up on your own, mumbling something along the lines that you could get up yourself before straightening yourself out and placing your hands on your hips. He gives a satisfied nod and grabs his shoes to put them on. He then kicks open the trapdoor before heading back down for you to follow.
He returns to the living room with you trailing behind, still wondering where exactly he wanted you to go. When you glance at the clock you see that it’s already 5:30 in the afternoon. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something land by your feet. You whipped your head around to see San pointing at your shoes which he probably threw at you from the door.
“We’re heading out for a while.” He says as he exits your house. You take a moment to process what was happening when he pops his head in. “Come on slowpoke.” He ushers you.
You hastily throw on your shoes, grabbing the house keys hanging by the coat rack, and hop out of the house. You lock the door behind you and approach San who was sitting upon his notoriously loud motorbike. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling down behind him.
Your arms awkwardly flutter beside you, opting to hold onto whatever space was left on your seat. You jump in surprise when you hear and feel the engine roar to life, eliciting an amused chuckle from the boy in front of you. You glare at the back of his head, smacking his shoulder and settling yourself once more.
“Hold on tight,” San tells you as he revs up the motorbike.
“I am.” You argue and strengthen your grip on the seat, shaking the bike a little to emphasize your point.
“No you aren’t.” You feel heat rise to your face when he tutted in annoyance, taking your arms and placing them around his waist. “There you go. See? No harm done.”
You only grumble something in response, making him chuckle to himself. It was a bit strange to see you tame like this. Sure it kind of boosted his ego considering that he managed to make you flustered with just a few words and a simple action but he actually kind of liked it when you weren’t at each other’s throats. He revved up the engine again before taking off and speeding down the road.
The evening breeze is cool as it whips through your hair and brushes against you, sending small goosebumps running down your skin. A small yelp escapes you when San picks up speed, causing your grip on him to tighten. He glanced back at you for a moment before taking the turn that exits the town and towards the road uphill. It led to the small forest that overlooked the city; it was a popular place in town for hiking or camping. You remember going there to play as a kid.
The air gets chillier as you both reach a higher altitude. You unconsciously nuzzle closer to the boy in front of you in an attempt to seek some body heat. The sky grows darker, turning into a deeper blue shade as the night slowly creeps upon the town. Some stars start to peek and settle themselves in the dark blanket of the sky by the time San slows down to a stop. He had stopped by the edge of the forest, a metal railing along the opposite end to keep people or vehicles from falling off the edge.
“We’re here.” San says and looks back at you. “You can let go if you want now.”
At that, you peel yourself away from him and hop off his bike mumbling something about how cocky he was while walking over to the railings. He joins you soon after, keeping a respectable distance from you. None of you say anything at first, simply taking in the view of the city in front of you. Now know why San took you out here: to breathe and clear your mind of things; something that you didn’t know you needed at the moment.
The spot you were in allowed you to overlook the town, seeing the lights from the roads and houses down below. You could spot the water tower in the distance along with the radio tower next to it. As you survey the scene before you, you make out one house in the distance with a multitude of colored lights flashing around it.
“Looks like someone’s having a party.” You muse, finally breaking the silence.
San hums in acknowledgement. “I hope they aren’t missing me.”
It takes a moment for you to understand what he said, perking up when it made sense to you. “So that’s what you meant when you were ‘busy.’” You say as you lightly punch his arm. “You’re such an ass.”
“What? I wasn’t lying; I would’ve been busy.” He defends himself, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Yeah,” You huff. “Busy shoving your tongue down people’s throats.”
A mischievous hum. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Ew no, gross- I’ll pass.”
You share a small laugh together before settling into silence again. It was… kind of cathartic, being able to actually laugh for a long while-even if it was with your longtime nemesis. It was better than crying yourself to sleep almost every night.
You turn to lean your back against the railing, using your arms to support you as you mull over the forest.
“I used to come here a lot as a kid.” You say, managing to capture San’s attention. “Pretended to gallop along the trees like some sort of princess when I was in my horse phase… I would always come home with scraped knees. I was a clumsy kid.”
“Except when you’d throw punches at me,” San interjected, ghosting a hand over his jaw. “You sure knew how to pack a punch.”
You smile apologetically, a sheepish flush on your cheeks, and look over to him. “Well you did deliver some pretty good kicks- I needed to learn how to defend myself.”
San shrugged in agreement. “I guess,” He muses and offers you a small smile, lapsing into silence again. “You know… it’s actually kind of surprising but you aren’t so bad to talk to.”
You nibble at your lower lip at his confession, unsure of what to make of it. When you look up at him, you see that he had inched a little closer to you. He still kept a reasonable amount of space between you two but it was apparent that he wanted to get closer. He drums his fingers against the cool metal of the railing, brows furrowed as he thinks over his next words carefully.
“I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been an asshole to you. I know that I’ve hurt you, not just physically, but emotionally too. And I want to apologize for that… I know, words are just words. It won’t do anything to reverse or take back what I’ve done to you then, but please, take it as a first step to making it up to you.”
San decided to meet your watery gaze, his chest clenching at the tears you were trying so hard to hold back. He holds his hand out instinctively, wanting to offer some sort of physical comfort. He stops himself midway, opting to just settle it on the rail halfway from you. “You don’t have to make a decision right here and now. You can still hate me all you want, but I promise to leave you alone from now on.”
You whimper pathetically, finally letting the tears flow down your cheeks. You felt guilt consume you at his apology. Why was he taking the blame for everything? It should be you who was saying sorry. After all,you were just as cruel as him. And thinking back on it, this feud had most likely started with you. You raise a sweater paw to wipe at your tears, sobbing into your hand.
God you were a mess.
“Don’t, don’t blame yourself… I should be apologizing too. It takes two to tango right?” You hiccup, managing to give him a shaky smile. “I could’ve chosen to ignore you or direct my anger elsewhere but I still ended up targeting you at the end of the day…”
“_______, it’s okay—“
“No it’s not.” You hiss. “I’m not just talking about what I did in high school. I’m talking about every instance I was cruel to you. It was petty, extremely childish, and just horrible overall. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I want to apologize too. I’ve made part of your life a living hell.”
You glance at his hand on the railing before holding your own out towards him. “Truce?” You offer. “We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy after this but at least we can just end this whole thing.”
San gripped your hand in a gentle but firm handshake. “Truce.” His touch lingered for
just a second before he gave a gentle squeeze and pulled away. He returned it to the previous spot on the railing.
The both of you remain for a while, just overlooking the town and reflecting on what had happened. The quiet atmosphere that you both shared suddenly didn’t seem so awkward anymore. Instead, it was filled with some tension but with a bit of comfort at the same time. It was similar to the feeling of a thorn being plucked out of your side: painful but relief that it was finally out.
You don’t expect that things would go right at once— this wasn’t like the movies or the books where everything was magically solved. You both had left some scars on each other, some that are too hard to forget or too deep to heal easily. But you two were working on it: healing and forgiving each other. It was still a long journey but it was something you were both willing to go on together.
You glance to San, seeing how relaxed he was right now. He didn’t look so annoying or so terrifying anymore. A tiny grin makes its way to your lips; never in a million years did you think you’d find solace in someone you despised so much.
“Hey San,” You call out to him, resting your hand beside his, your pinkies brushing against each other. “...thanks for this. I really needed it.”
He smiles at you, flashing his cute dimples at you. It sends a warm, tingly feeling down your spine and you couldn’t help but feel calm at that. “Glad I could help.” He momentarily pat the back of your hand, engulfing it with his larger one when you didn’t pull away.
It was late when he drove you home to finish the project. Unsurprisingly, your family was still out, probably at an event they forgot to tell you about. But you didn’t mind, you had an unexpected friend with you right now.
You smile to yourself as you wave goodbye to San from the doorway, seeing him speed down the road and into the night. He may have been the bad guy in your life but it turns out, he wasn’t such a bad guy. And you were thankful that you were able to see that because at least you knew you had someone in your corner.
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stellocchia · 3 years
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This is part 5 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc
Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3 -  Part 4
So, this time I’m condensing together 2 streams, so It may be slightly longer then Parts 3 and 4... 
Also from here on out as usual we will be talking exclusively about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be treating some heavy themes, so keep that in mind
So, first stream we’ll be talking about is: TommyInnit Is Actually Depressed in Exile
So, as I mentioned at the end of the last one, once the party stream was over Tommy seemed to dissociate and go underwater until he had only one air bubble remaining and then logged off. This stream starts with Tommy drowning and being extremely confused as to how that happened. Also Tommy moved to the second fase of his exile Minecraft skin.
“I held a party and the only person who showed up was Dream. But it’s okay because he’s great! He’s- he’s cool...” 
*Tommy sees a Tubbo statue holding a ‘Your Tommy’ compass* “Tubbo is the reason that I’m out here... ‘Your Tommy compass’? Dream told me that Tubbo lost his compass!” (once again absolutely trusting what Dream says)
“If Tubbo wanted to be here then he could come here and he’s chosen NOT TO! Even if he didn’t get fucking invited to the party, which he did! He’s not shown up once... not to say ‘hi’, not left a gift, not left me anything... he’s just been... Tubbo” 
“Everyone keeps coming to me out of pity and no-one comes in just to say ‘hello’, no the only person who’s- *long pause* the only person who’s done that is Dream... he’s the only person” (this is a bit of an insight on Tommy’s mindset regarding others)
So, now the mailing chest has been moved to underneath Tommy’s bed, because Dream kept intercepting Ranboo’s and Tommy’s mails. Also Ranboo writing “Jesus Christ Dream is scary” in this mail is a mood.
“You know, if it was Tubbo that got exiled, which he wouldn’t have in the first place, everyone would be visiting him everyday. Even if I was the president and I was the one who had to exile him I would have visited him everyday, everyone would have... if the roles were reversed... but the roles aren’t reversed” 
It’s interesting that by now he has internilized that Tubbo would not have been exiled because he’s much more obedient when Dream never cared about that (he did care, but only to the extent of: Tommy not following his orders is the most probable reason for Dream’s obsession with him). He would have pushed for the exile (also known as Glorified Kidnapping) no matter what sooner or later. If Tubbo was the one to be unfortunate enough to attract Dream’s obsession nothing would have changed from that point of view, except, would Tommy have been as afraid of visiting Tubbo as Tubbo was of visiting him? 
Also then Tommy tries to make 2 Screaming Stations. One near the sea and one in the neter (coincidentally directly above the two liquids he almost died from in exile). Neither of them worked, the nether one only resulting effective once a ghast shot him. Also this is the stream where Tommy drops Jack Manifold into lava (though he had no idea that that was a canon kill) and Jack kindaps/kills Tommy’s pumpking girlfriend as revenge? It’s a weird one. Another thing to point out is that Tommy just doesn’t wear armour at any point.
“Why did I just do that? Why did I just kill him?” *joins Jack vc* “Listen, I’m really sorry” (just to specify Tommy did apologize multiple times right after doing it, since a lot of people seem not to remember how things went)
“For some reason I just can’t let it out... why can’t- why can’t I scream?” (said right before a ghast fireballed him and he screamed)
After that Ranboo comes to visit. Tommy also breaks a bit more of the Nether path and then he makes the signs: “You are now entering Logstedshire, population: 1″ and “You are now entering Dream Smp, Happy Place. They’re all happy. It’s not quiet, just happy”. 
“Aside from maybe Dream” *seeing Ranboo* “And also I guess a bit Ranboo no-one’s came to visit me and when they have they’ve been live so that they can go ‘Oh he’s in exile guys, come and look at this! Come and look at this!’” (a good canon interpretation of this is that Tommy is feeling like a carnival attraction as he put it a while ago. Also Ranboo is now his strongest connection aside from Dream)
“I would actually go and get pets since pets are the best thing for sad people, but so far all my pets have just been used to be tortured in war so I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna put them through that...” (that’s a really f*cking grim take that just so happens to be true that was shoved in the middle of a random stream...) 
“Ranboo I’ve had a bit- you know ‘cause Dream isn’t on?” “Mhm” “I reckon I’m gonna- I’m gonna- one day Ranboo I’m gonna fight back, but for now he’s my only friend. Other then you” “Heh, yeah... wait!” “What if I make a little... heh a room”
This bit is quite an important one: Tommy’s first (and last) real act of rebellion against his situation. He’s still confused about it because he thinks of Dream as a friend, but he knows that his situation cannot last forever and that he will need to fight back at some point. He never gets to build a sort of “resistence in exile” type of thing, but he does manage later on to snap out of Dream’s control.
“I’m not gonna fight back now, because I owe everything to Dream. He comes and sees me and he gives me armour sometimes and he makes me happier and he gives me his trident” “Isn’t he the reason why you’re in this situation?” (now Ranboo is the one who took on the role of the one poking holes in Dream’s retoric)
“I made a bee sanctuary or whatever it’s called” “Oh shit! Can I come and see it?” “Oh yeah when you- you come back. When you’re allowed to come back. Which hopefully will be soon” “Oh... you’re like the others” (I’m not entirely sure how to interpret this exchange, but it is the point where Tommy starts loosing trust in Ranboo)
“Apparently Tubbo got a compass” “Yeah! Oh yeah the compass... it got accidentally, like, it was very terrible timing with a charged creeper” “He let it go?” “He didn’t let it go!” “He let me go?” “No he didn’t- he didn’t purposefully let it go, he wouldn’t do that” (this conversation is very much NOT about the compass...)
“But Ranboo, listen, at some point I’m gonna have to do something about this and I don’t know if that’s gonna be... someone’s gonna die” (pretty sure he’s referring to himself there...)
“So recently my buddy Dream has been doing this thing where he um- it makes sense though! Because I’m not in his land anymore, but he ta- he takes shit from me so I need to make sure that I keep them in that chest down there” (it is indeed quite typical for victims of abuse to justify their abuser’s actions and that’s what we’re seeing)
“Everyone in this world you think cares: probably doesn’t”
“You didn’t come to my fucking party Ranboo and I invited everyone!” “You did?” “I didn’t, I didn’t, Wilbur did! And everyone could have came and you didn’t” “Wait what do you mean? There was no invite!”
So, up until now it was of course only speculation that Dream had tampered with the Party invites, but, of course, this is the first proof we have of that fact. Later on Ranboo reiterates his point during the Bedrock Boys Arc, since this time Tommy was still too hurt by it to actually try and listen to him.
“I know that, whatever happens, I’m not gonna be here forever. Wether it’s in exile or wether it’s just here [alive], I’ve no idea how long I’ve got left” (in case it wasn’t obvious: Tommy in exile was suicidal)
“Ranboo everyone always tells me I was the- the- the hero of this server, the one that came and fucking fought Dream and the only one that ever spoke against him but... maybe I was just- maybe this was just meant to be...” (Tommy also very much resents the idea of being a “hero”)
“Doesn’t Dream, like, take your armour? Is that what you said?” “I don’t know I just- hey man, I just follow the boss” (Ranboo was quite aware of at least part of what happened in exile)
We then have Tommy labeling his chasts: ‘don’t let yourself down’ and ‘keep calm and carry on’ and stored away 13 enderpearls. Also closing speach, because it was really good:
“Is it worth it Ranboo?” “What? What worth it?” “Is this [trying to fight back] even worth it?” “I’d say it is. I mean, it’s gonna be tough, it’s gonna be- I mean, I couldn’t even imagine it, but it’s definitely gonna be worth it in the end when you can come back” “In the end...” “I mean at the end of your exile” “*sigh* It’s never gonna end”
Moving on to the next stream we have: Tommy's Exile Is Coming To A Close, which just so happens to not be about Tommy’s exile ending, despite the title, but just about Tommy getting EVEN MORE depressed...
Once again, this stream only has Tommy and later Ranboo and Niki in it, and it’s not too important, so I’ll try to be quick about it. 
The stream starts, once again, with Tommy drowning. This time a bit further away from the coast.
“I don’t think I’ve got very long left. I’m not getting better. I’m not (...) and I- I can just feel it: if this- if it keeps on going how it is right now, if- if this keeps on and I keep being alone and my only friend *pause* is Dream, I don’t have very long- I don’t have very long left” (his mental state just literally plummeted after the failed beach party)
Tommy builds the Thinking Palace and the second Nether bridge to Logsteshire (out of cobblestone and lime green concrete, though he wanted to make it out of clay, how’s that for subtle symbolism?) during this stream. Also, may I point out that Tommy is canonically aware of his eyes becoming less and less blue? Also the response mail that Tommy writes is quite worrying here:
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*Tommy falls into water* “Why did I just do that? I don’t think I- I don’t think I chose to dr- *sigh*” (pretty sure this is another instance of dissociation)
“How can I be with other people and still feel so alone?” (that’s because loneliness has nothing to do with how crowded a certain place is and more to do with feelings of alienation)
Either way the stream ends with Niki and Ranboo helping Tommy out with the bridge a bit and that’s it! 
“‘Please speak to Tubbo’? My time with Tubbo is come and gone. He had weeks to come and visit me. He chose- he chose against it. And that’s okay... that’s okay” (we have a second time fram indicating that it’s now been definitely over 2 weeks in their time, considering the last time we got one it had been 13 days)
I reckon the next post will be 3 streams together (since the Mexican Dream and the Drista one are... mostly non-canon and I don’t remember Quackity’s visit being too serious) and then I’ll make one on the final one and that’ll be it, I'm pretty sure...
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oh-my-may · 4 years
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Bokuto, Nishinoya, Oikawa and Terushima reacting to their s/o wearing their jersey
requested: hihi may i request headcannons of Bokuto, Noya, Oikawa and Terushima (seperate) where their s/o is wearing their volley jersey/jacket and their reaction of it please? thank you! ♡
I am back from the dead lmao, can you believe? I know it’s hard to, but in a brilliant moment this week I suddenly had the urge to write something haikyuu related again soooo... this happened. Hope I didn’t forget how to write this stuff, it’s been a few weeks. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Also I don’t think I’ll be back with posting regularly again, because there’s still a shit ton of other things coming my way this month, but maybe afterwards it’ll be better again? Can’t promise you, but I really hope so, because I also can not WAIT for the second part of season 4!!
Bokuto Kotarou:
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You really wanted to be on time today. Really really badly. You knew how important it was for your boyfriend, for his team. It was one of the most important matches of their career. They had spent the last months solely training and practicing for this day. And now here you were, missing almost all of it. Just because of the stupid rain, stupid traffic, stupid crowds.
You were soaking wet by the time you arrived at the big gym, droplets of water dripping all over the floor as you ran through the halls, following the echoing sounds of shouts and a ball bouncing off the floor.
You coughed wildly as you opened the squeaking door to the game hall, water still running down your wet hair, creating tiny puddles all over the floor, but you didn’t notice the critical looks from other people standinmg on the sidelines. As soon as you were blinded by the bright stadium lights, your eyes flew across the hall, trying to find the one individual you were here for. You expected Bokuto to stand somewhere on the field, maybe near the net, eager to punch a ball and spike it across it to score. But you were surprised to find him sitting on the bench, head drooping, his hair all over the place. You couldn’t even see his face, but his posture told you everything you needed to know about his current situation. Even though the team was winning, Bokuto didn’t feel like it at all.
Immediately you gulped and took off your jacket, trying to find a way through the crowd of people standing around. You raised your hand and called his name a couple of times, but it was Akaashi who noticed you first. His eyebrows perked up in surprise and heasked his coach to ask for a time out in the game. You quickly ran over to him, but he didn’t give you no time to speak. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. We already made up scenarios for what might happen if you don’t show up, but this is really good. And you even-” He step away and looks down at your body, where one of Bokuto’s jerseys was hanging off your shoulders. Usually you never wore his training clothes, at least not when he was around, but today felt special, as it was an important match. “Perfect.” Akaashi mumbles to himself before stepping away even further and shouting: “Bokuto.san! Look!”
The white-black head shoots up in an instant at the loud mention of his name and he looks around confused for a moment before his eyes find yours and you see a spark going off in his eyes, even from the distance between you. He jumps up in no time once he sees what you’re wearing and suddenly he’s bouncing around the coach, begging him to end the break because “My baby is here!! Coach do you see them?? I need to show them my best!! The yeven wear my jersey, coach!”
As soon as he gets on field he makes a point and then points at you. You laugh as his energy restores itself immediately after seeing you and let me tell you, when the match is over no one can hold him back from tackling you down and embracing you with the biggest, tightest and cuddliest hug you’ve ever gotten. Yes, your presence at games motivates him. But Akaashi suggests than from now on you should also wear the jersey, because there was something else in his game after he saw you wearing it.
In the end, you’ll find yourself wearing the jersey basically all the time you see Bokuto, because he asks you to and it gives him the biggest, happiest smile you’ve ever seen on him :))
Nishinoya Yuu:
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You yawned once again as you checked the time on your phone, rolling your eyes after seeing how early exactly it was. Definitely not your time of the day. Especially not on a saturday.
You couldn’t stop a pout from forming on your lips when you got off the train and looked around, having to assert that it was raining a bit. So you sighed in defeat and searching around in the bag you were supposed to bring your boyfriend to practice, because he forgot it. You found his training jacket and declared it good enough to shield you from the rain until you arrived at the gym. Plus, it smelled like him, so you counted that at least one good thing this morning. It was also warmer than you expected.
Still, ittook you longer than usual to arrive at the boy-filled gym. You admired their motivation and enthusiasm this early in the morning, as you were able to hear their energized calls across the entire school campus. You sighed with a smile as you recognized what could only be the eager voice of Nishinoya, doing his all too familiar rolling thunder chant.
Just about some minutes later you arrived in the alley in front of the gym and found coach ukai leaning in the door frame, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his eyes closed until he heard your figure approaching. It took him exactly one second to realoze the situation and then he turned around to call for Noya, whom arrived in front of you in no time, pushing his unimpressed coach aside.
“Y/N~! You’re finally here! Thanks for brining my stuff! Now come in, I need to show you my new reiceive move, even Tsukishima thinks its cool!” You just nod and get in the warm hall, following his urgent gestures. He doesn’t even seem to notice what you’re wearing as he takes his bag from your bags. At least not until Hinata points it out.
“Noya-san! Your girlfriend/boyfriend is wearing youir jacket! That is so cooool!” he says with big eyes and immediately pays for it as he misses a ball and takes it right to the head.
Nishinoya looks up in question into Hinata’s direction, as though his brain was recreating what the younger boy just said to him. Then his gaze slowly moves torwards you and his eyes wander down to where his black training jacket still hung from your shoulders, now a bit wet from the rain.
Kiyoko was by your side in no time as you watched Noya’s whole embrace glow at your sight, the realization in his eyes growing bigger and bigger as his hands formed excited fists next to his happy face. “The jacket is kinda wet, Y/N. If you could take it off I’ll hang it somewhere and-”
“NO!” Nishinoya is at your side so fast you barely noticed how he moved, now putting his arms on your shoulders in a protective manner, already turning your body away from a very confused Kiyoko. “No, no, thank you Kiyoko, but they’re totally fine, we’re all good. It will have dried in no time! Especially with our bodies radiating so much heat.” And with those words he steps closer to you and embraces you in his warm arms, nuzzling his face into the fabric of his own jacket. “I’ve always been a fan of our uniform, but this kinda just makes it a hundred times better.” You can hear him mumbling and smile, as you press him even closer to you.
He asks you to stay and he definitely slays these new moves he just leanred simply because you’re there, looking all adorable in his training jacket. Please do not even think about taking it off, because Noya will not stop bragging to the rest of the boys, from now on until forever.
Oikawa Tooru:
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It was normal that Tooru was usually a bit late to dates and other kinds of meetups. He was always quick to forget the world around him when he was at practice, so you were used to waiting for him. In the beginning of your relationship it got you frustrated quickly, but now you got used to it, because normally Oikawa made up for it with a lot of cuddles and great food.
But today was unusual. Tooru was always on time when you met up at his place after school or practice. Of course you showed up earlier and decided tro wait on the front porch so you could surprise and greet him when he would arrive. But his mother was quick to notice you sitting on the steps and welcomed you in and you found the way into his room on your own.
More minutes passed and you found yourself bored, but especially wondering where he was. You were about to text him another message when you saw that he had just read the messages and sent you a quick emoji to tell you he was on his way. You smiled, knowing that it would now take him at least another 20 minutes before he would show up because he now felt bad and got something at the grocery store for you.
So you got up again and looked around the all too familiar room, eventually ending up in front of his wardrobe and rummaging through it. A warm piece of clothing then fell in your hands almost naturally and you smiled down on it, not hesitating a single second to put it on.
Oikawa eventualy showed up a bit earlier than you expected him and you turned around in surprise not too long after as he rips open the door and practically collapses into your arms. “I’m so sorry Y/N I was already on the way when you texted me and-” He inhales and then stops abruptly, leaning back with a questioning look on his face. Realization hits him just a second laterand all the exhaustion leaves his face in the matter of a second and is replaced with a smug smile, though you can see the softness in his eyes. “Did you miss me this much, Y/N? You know, next time just visit me right at practice in the gym hall, wearing exactly this, and I’ll never be late to anything ever again.”
And he really isn’t. Instead, the rest of his team just groans displeased when you show up at practice because they know he will never shut up about it
Terushima Yuuji:
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Going to games with the rest of the team and accompanying them to cheer them on was one of your most favorite things in the world, especially since you were in a relationship with Terushima. The boys always were so energized and eager to play, you wouldn’t wanna miss a single day.
But today was different. Some of the team members got sick on the bus ride to the game and now the energy of the team was a complete different one. You could just press yourself tighter against your boyfriend as the libero of the team got a bit green in the face and seemed to loose control over his gag reflex as he covered his face with a bag. That’s the least he could do, you think, but you can’t hold back from being disgusted either way. You were just hoping that whatever was getting around didn’t stick on you or Terushima, let alone enough members that they couldn’t play today.
However, something had to happen. Right before they arrived the bus took a sharp curve and the bag the person next to you in the bus was holding, wavered dangerously and you didn’t have enough time to get out of the way before its content spilled all over your jacket and you couldn’t help but cry out loud as your boyfriend started to laugh.
Misaki, the team’s manager, scolded him for it as you were busy complaining. She made him pay for his lack of empathy by handing you his bag with clothes for you to change as soon as you arrived. You took it with a dark look into his direction and took the first shirt that fell into your hands - his jersey.
When you found the group of yellow jackets again, no one seemed to take notice of you at first. Until Yuuji showed up next to you with the fattest smile on his face. “Almost mistook you for Misaki. Now you’re a real part of the team, Y/N!” Suddenly he starts jumping around all excited, pointing at you while calling all the others and sharing the news.
Anyways, for the rest of the day he will NOT stop staring at you. Can’t go 5 minutes on the field without his eyes wandering over to you, resulting in the team losing some points. At the same time, he feels better than ever to win this match and to be honest, their opponent has a hard time trying to catch all the balls flying their way.
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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years
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Zen w/ a blind MC [HCS]
request(s); No one request other things than idv or dr (or arcana but?) and this a a multi blog soo Zen (mm) w a blind MC nyoom
paring(s); zen x blind!gn!reader
warning(s); reader is gender-neutral, reader is blind, cussing, celebrity scandals, twinkle of angst, fluff, talks about celebrity reputation, tokenism, cringey pick up lines, the ‘beast’, implies that zen is a bit sadistic but it depends how you read it, 99.9999% sfw other than that.
note; sorry if i wrote too much!! i haven’t written for MM in a while so i just got- way too many ideas- hh
◊ When Zen first met you, he definitely, definitely used kid gloves on you. He’d pester you a lot, if he knew you were blind, he’d automatically assume you were much less capable than you were. He’d probably neutralize himself; so if Jumin were to ever provoke him or piss him off in any way, he’d kind of push his need to smack the guy down, because he didn’t want to scare you.
◊ Furthermore, he’s usually like this with everyone new, that he likes; but with you, it’s more... intense, as he now knows that you’re blind.
◊ it’s kind of like, his big strong man instinct kicks in whenever he sees you.
◊ However those are only first impressions! I promise he improves all throughout your relationship.
◊ Later on, — when he actually gets to know you better — he finds himself getting more comfortable with you; treating you less like a blind person, and more of a... ‘friend’. But he catches himself, and tries not to— which is obviously dumb, and he should’ve just stuck with the friend thing.
◊ Zen is helpful, yes. But sometimes it’s overbearing. He would do everything for you, to the point where you don’t even need to lift a finger, because he’ll be there lifting it for you. Sure, it’s nice; but he has to see that you’re very capable, just because you’re blind doesn’t mean you’re a child.
◊ You’re going to have to tell him that sometimes, you can do things for yourself, and that he should let you do your thang, chicken wang!(sorry)
◊ he’ll be confused at first; why didn’t you want his help? But he would respect your wishes, as a gentleman should. Though it would take some time.
◊ okay let’s be honest here, Zen loves that you’re blind. He has this built-in gentleman, charmer personality voodoo crap, so seeing as how you have more trouble doing things at cause to your sigh impairment, he’d definitely feel the huge ego boost every time he helps you. He loves feeling helpful to you, so praise him— but not too much.
◊ If word got out that he was dating, of course it’d be scandalous; but if word got out that he was dating someone blind?
◊ There would be ‘good’ benefits, that would only seem good if you were shallow.
◊ Zen would get ‘points’ and people would view you as a charity case that he either started dating because he would get a good reputation for it, or because he pitied you and accepted your confession — which is funny because Zen is the one who confessed to you first(that’s another story, I’ll get to it soon.)
◊ He’s a bit of a himbo sometimes; so he wouldn’t really realize that that was what was happening. It wasn’t until a fan or a news reporter/radio host confronted him about it, had realization finally dawned on him. He would be very quick to dismiss that horrible, horrible assumption. And he’d honestly lose respect for the person he was talking to.
◊ If a fan were ever to call you a charity case, he’d definitely get mad. To assume he would start dating you for his reputation...? That’s kind of... fucked up.
◊ If you asked him about it, he would definitely get upset, and honestly a little heart-broken. To assume that he would do something like that... he finds himself doubting if he was a good enough boyfriend.
◊ So let me paint a scenario and hand you the angst.
— Since you would probably have to use Voice-over for your phone, I think something that could happen as a result of it is, as you scroll through websites and articles about Zen through your phone, the phone voices over every single title. And one catches your attention, unfortunately, it also catches Zen’s.
“Zen’s charity case of a partner, S/o-“ he would hear it from the other room, despite it being extremely fast to almost not be able to. E heard, and he would immediately go to you, following the direction of the sound.
He’d find you with your phone off, eerily silent as you waited for him to speak, having been notified by his heavy footsteps. “S/o...” he’d soften his voice and make his way to you, gently seating himself opposite to where you sat, softly yet urgently grabbing your hand as he was afraid you’d storm off, or get mad.
“I swear I would never think that of you. Believe me, okay? Not those stupid articles, half the stuff they say is all made-up— I swear, they act more than me- Mph!?“ he’s all for drama and movies, but this was real life. You were real. And both of your feelings were real too. He rambled on, and before he could finish his rant, you already had your lips on his; to his surprise, and pleasure.
“... I- I know. Thank you, Zen.”
◊ okay but imagine the embarrassment when you turn on Voice-over and Zen sends you this, just, extremely cheesy line and everyone around you could hear it. The fucking humiliation, dude, I feel for you.
— “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Bec-“ with a face flushed a dark red for reasons more than one, you frantically tried to lower the volume. “N- no! Stop, phone stop!” You’d probably ‘accidentally’ destroy one of your phones just to save yourself from the sheer embarrassment.
◊ If Zen were ever to leave the country for a global concert, there would be tons of calls— so many to the point it was like he never left. You would hear his voice through the phone, and it would feel like he was there... though it’s still different.
◊ Something Zen likes to do, that probably irritates you, is scare the shit out of you and sneak up behind you. The fucker would scoop you up from behind, laughing as you shrieked from the top of your lungs. You insist that it’s sadistic, and he— he agrees, with a very, uh, strange look in his eyes.
◊ Zen can be very playful, so as soon as he comes back from a shoot; no matter how tired and exhausted he is, he is always willing to hug you with all the force he has, and it makes you wonder— how? How is this man still so strong after hours of working?
◊ You don’t seem to get the chance to ask as he stuffs your face into his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around the middle of your back, so you can’t escape. He wouldn’t hug too long though, because he needs to keep the beast calm; or so he says.
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hongism · 3 years
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mists of celeste ➻ 33
➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 10.5k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you
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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part eight
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Five people in the room. Dark walls, wood panels laid over bricks at haphazard and awkward angles, quiet voices muttering off to the side, three cots smashed together as closely as possible on one side of the room, body splayed out on the two cots on your left whilst you lie on the third. Every muscle in your body aches and burns like it’s been sitting over a fire for the better part of a day. There’s a slight itch to your throat, but you can’t even bring yourself to cough. You don’t move; you aren’t sure you could if you wanted to, so you don’t push it quite yet and instead settle for lying down and listening to the hushed whispers around you.
Seonghwa’s voice is the first to drift to your ears, and just the sound of it lets a bit of comfort sink into your heavy bones. You wish he was at your side and not across the room, and the small cravings for his hand in yours swell up in chest. Jongho speaks up after that with his deep timbre that rumbles against the soft sound of the air conditioner. And lastly, Yunho. His voice grates hard on your mind, and you wish you could fall asleep just so that you wouldn’t have to listen to it any longer. One quick glance to your left tells you that Yeosang is sprawled on the cot beside yours, and just past the steady rise and fall of his chest, you catch sight of Hongjoong’s blue head of hair.
Five people in the room, and San isn’t one of them.
Rest is out of the question at this point, especially with the swirling memories of the dream you woke up from not too long ago.
“Ah, Tsukio. There you are.”
“Tsukio?” You question, head falling to the side as confusion waves over you. Water continues to lap at your feet and pushes between your bare toes. “That’s — you’ve never called me that before.”
“Yes, I have, child. Ever since the first time you visited me.”
Daichi turns back to the pebbles under him. He nudges them some more with the end of his twisted branch, then lets the stick splash against the surface of the lake. He pushes himself up to his full height, yet something about it doesn’t feel quite right. He isn’t as tall as you remember him to be. Not only that, but your body doesn’t feel the way it usually does. You feel heavier, like something is wrapped tight around you and pulling your shoulders down with its weight, but you can’t bring your hands up to look at them any longer.
“She is too close to you,” Daichi utters without sparing you another glance.
“She?”
“You were foolish enough to let the fire come in and scald you. The water will drown you in her embrace.”
“Wh-What?” You stammer through your endless confusion. You hardly have the mental capacity to be thinking about the meaning behind his riddles might be, but that added to the strange foreign sensation running through your system doesn’t help to ease your panic one bit.
“How often must I remind you of the prophecy before it sinks in through that skull of yours, Tsukio?”
You grit your teeth together to keep from snapping at the old man and telling him off. You want nothing more than to tell him that you are not Tsukio, you are not Umiko, you are just Y/N and nothing else. He has never even mentioned any sort of fucking prophecy to you in all the time you’ve been meeting with the damn man.
“The moon will meet the sea in fire, and guided by the earth, they will seek the sun. As the sun rises out of the east, so the moon will set in the west with waters crashing out of the south and the earth climbing in the north, and fires will blaze at the center of it all. Blood spilled over pale sands and misted skies.”
You find it in you to pull away from the man, although it takes far too much effort to do so, and you slide back across the mud. The sensation is strange between your toes, and you certainly don’t welcome it, but it carries you away from Daichi and his odd mutterings. That’s good enough for you. You don’t manage to pull that far away before your legs fail. Black waters splash around you when your knees sink into the mud. That’s the position you remain in for quite some time too; unable to pull yourself up and incapable of doing anything other than stare down at the swirling waters. It’s only when they still that your senses return. Because the reflection in the water is not your own.
The face blinking back at you does not belong to you.
It belongs to —
“Y/N.”
You jerk your head towards the sound of the voice, eyes honing in on broad shoulders before Seonghwa’s face comes into view. He kneels down beside your makeshift bed. The second he extends a hand to brush the loose strands of hair off your forehead, a wave of comfort hits you, and the gentle smile painting his lips almost convinces you that everything is okay.
“How are you feeling?” He inquires. His hand remains in your hair, nails now scraping therapeutic patterns across your scalp. The idea of sleeping again comes to mind, but you force yourself to sit up on your elbows and look closer at the man’s features.
Even if you were to put it kindly, Seonghwa looks like absolute shit. The deep circles under his eyes, shallow scratches over one cheekbone and a nasty purple bruise on the other. You can see white gauze under the collar of his form-fitting shirt that seems to snake up over his shoulder, but he uses that arm without any visible issue just fine. You hardly realize how your arm moves on its own accord, reaching up to cup the line of Seonghwa’s jaw, and your thumb drags over his scraped cheek.
“I’ve been through worse, princess,” he chuckles under his breath. The smile on his lips stretches to one of amusement, and if you had it in you, you might laugh back with him. But not now. Not while Yeosang and Hongjoong remain unconscious beside you, and nearly half the crew is unaccounted for.
“I’m – I’m sore,” you manage after a couple of seconds of easy silence.
“Not surprised. You were given a pretty strong tranquilizer.”
It comes back to you then, an almost instantaneous shift in your demeanor as you remember what exactly went down prior to you passing out. Nothing too dramatic or memorable compared to the finale. If you had thought that Han Jisung wouldn’t haunt your thoughts after that, then you would have looked a fool on all accounts. Seonghwa notices the tension that rises in your body, and his hand drops from your head to your shoulder, squeezing gently at the flesh under his fingers. He opts not to comment on your unfocused gaze; rather, he motions towards Yeosang and Hongjoong behind him.
“We don’t know when they’ll be up. Yunho was up within a few hours, but his dosage was apparently a lot lower than yours and Yeosang’s were since he didn’t pose as much of a threat.” You squint at Yeosang’s reclining body once before pulling yourself up into a better sitting position. Seonghwa moves with you, hand never leaving your form for a second, and he’s there to steady you when you wobble a little upon swinging your legs over the edge of the cot. You don’t dare to get up from there, content to just sit and stew as you watch the unconscious crewmates in front of you.
“What happened?” You ask after quite some time.
“I can explain that a bit more when Yeosang wakes. It’s… um—” Seonghwa doesn’t let himself finish the thought. Your heart twinges in your chest, although you know that it isn’t on your own accord because of the way Seonghwa’s expression shifts. His gaze falls to the floor past your cot. You don’t press him for answers, but it is more than clear enough to tell that something awful has happened in the time you were unconscious. Your initial reaction is: no, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I would be better off not knowing.
That devolves in a matter of seconds thanks to the worry rolling off Seonghwa’s body in waves. You bring a hand up to the one he has resting atop your shoulder then with a hesitant grasp take his lithe, long fingers between yours and offer whatever minimal comfort you can to him.
“Hongjoong is lucky to be alive.”
If Hongjoong is lucky to be alive, then what of Mingi? Where is he? Is he in a similar condition? Better? Worse? Wooyoung isn’t at Yeosang’s bedside. San isn’t at yours. So where the fuck are they? In another room? If they managed to cram three cots together in this one, then surely they could have made some more room for the others as well.
“We need to let him rest longer, give him time to recover, and let his body catch up on sleep as well. So hopefully Yeosang will get up soon, and you won’t have to stay waiting for an explanation for too long.”
Seonghwa’s words exude a sense of finality, and yet he doesn’t move away from you. He stays put and brings his gaze up to trail over your features. He seeks something in them that you aren’t aware of, a dash of confusion to his dark orbs that has your stomach churning every which way, and you can’t pretend not to know why.
“I thought I would lose you both,” he whispers so quietly that only you can hear the words. “I fear that I won’t be able to have you as fairly as I promised bec-because–”
“Do you still love him?”
“Not in that way any longer.”
“We can talk about that later,” you say, cutting Seonghwa’s thought short despite the fact that you already know where it was headed. It is an easy feeling for you to understand because every aspect of your life seems to drag you back to Jisung somehow. If Hongjoong is Seonghwa’s weak spot, then Jisung is most definitely yours. Too much is happening for you to properly process it all at the moment, so part of you demands to postpone that conversation with Seonghwa as much as possible if only to let you have time to gather your bearings and work through the confusion. Some things can wait. Others cannot. What happened before you got here is one of those that cannot wait. That conversation with Seonghwa can. And Jisung… Jisung is a thought that you will push to the deepest recesses of your mind and avoid with as much willpower as you can muster because while you should have seen this coming, you are still reeling.
He always spoke of coming to Kebos once he retired. It was his dream for the both of you. You didn’t have word for word confirmation that he was alive but you knew quite well that he escaped Eros prior to the execution then he disappeared from your radar. You figured he would be here and yet… you could never have expected him to be in the arena when he was or do whatever it is he did. To the outside eye – to Seonghwa – it might seem like an attack, and that would be logical since Jisung didn’t seem to know who you were until you said his name. However, he had to have seen you before the attack, he had to have known it was you, he said your name without an ounce of hesitation, and he was very clearly watching you because you could sense a presence before he showed himself. If he had wanted to kill you, he would have done so. He could have killed Yeosang and Yunho as well, but here they are, alive and for the most part well with you. San… Wooyoung… you don’t want to think that Jisung would kill either of them, and you don’t want to think that they are dead either.
What exactly was Jisung doing in that tunnel?
You are so lost in those thoughts that you don’t feel Seonghwa pulling away to face where Yeosang lays behind him. Jongho comes closer to the bedside, head stretching out to rest atop your head, and the gentle weight soothes you enough to bring you out of the intruding thoughts. He seems to be in far better condition than Seonghwa is – you can’t spot a single scratch or bruise on his face at least, but his knuckles are all battered. His red eyes are tired and bloodshot in a way that is concerning. He reassures you with a gentle smile before pulling his hand away from your head.
“Yeosang?” Seonghwa nudges the sleeping man with the back of his hand. At first, the blonde doesn’t budge even an inch and remains so still that you would believe that he’s dead if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Seonghwa bothers to prod at his shoulder once more, this time garnering a reaction from the man as the Elitist bolts upright on his cot. His body still seems to be on the offensive because he nearly clocks Seonghwa right in the nose with a wildly swinging arm, but the latter deflects the awkward attack before it can make contact.
“Where are we?” Yeosang asks the moment he somewhat gathers his bearings.
“We’re at a hostel not far outside the city, but at a safe distance from the arena.” Seonghwa stands up straight as Yeosang continues to blink around the room. It’s only a matter of time before the blond begins to ask more questions, including ones surrounding Wooyoung’s absence, but Seonghwa beats him to it. “Now that you’re both awake, we can better explain what exactly happened. As soon as Vladimir figured out that it was Mingi down in the arena, he detonated the electromagnetic bomb underneath the building that sent an intense electrical current through the arena itself. Neither Hongjoong or Mingi had time to react or withdraw, so they were both caught in the majority of the blast, but it also stirred up an awful duststorm, which flooded the base and tunnels surrounding the bomb. Then, Vlad dispatched several fighting units to no doubt dispatch of us before we could escape. Jongho and I went down to get Mingi and Hongjoong. We could hardly see a thing in there because of the dust, and it was only when it cleared that we were able to find Hongjoong, unconscious and beaten within an inch of his life. Mingi was nowhere to be found.”
Your gaze flits back down to where Hongjoong lies. His face is turned to the opposite wall so you can’t see the evidence of his fighting all too well, but several bruises poke out of the collar of his shirt. That is enough to tell you how bad things got for him.
“We spent so long searching for Mingi,” Seonghwa continues through a deep sigh. You shift to glance towards Jongho, but the Berserker stares at the floor without moving a muscle. His expression is impossible to read, and you can’t bring yourself to try to figure out how he feels about this. The exhaustion alone on his features tells you about how well he’s taking the situation. “There was only one exit, and that was the tunnel you all were already in. We assumed that we could carry Hongjoong out and find you all with Mingi in the tunnel. However… when we came in, it was worse than we could have imagined. The two of you and Yunho were all lying face down, completely unconscious, and there was a man with a green hood standing close to your body, Y/N. We – I immediately confronted him because I thought it had been his doing, but he claimed that he did not do anything to harm you all. There was still no sign of Mingi there either.”
Seonghwa must have more to say than that. You can hardly believe that he wouldn’t breathe a word about Wooyoung or San, but his continued hesitance offers no comfort and only makes you want to make a break for the door and get out of this damn room. Yeosang picks up on that as well, and this time he is quick enough to ask a question.
“And what of the others? Wooyoung?”
Seonghwa’s tongue pokes out to moisten his lips. He doesn’t respond right away, then he reaches for his pocket, pulling a shattered wristband out and passing it to Yeosang without a word. You lean forward to look on as well but regret it the moment you catch a glimpse of the screen. It’s the band that was assigned to Wooyoung, and you only know that because of the small initials flashing in the corner of the cracked screen. You don’t get to look longer than a moment; next thing you know, Yeosang is pushing himself to his feet and hurling the band across the room. It hits the brick wall with a loud clatter. He must not have all his strength back quite yet because just the simple movement has Yeosang stumbling and falling to his knees. Seonghwa tries to catch him a moment too late, hand clasping around Yeosang’s forearm the second he hits the floor.
“Wh-Where is he?” Yeosang asks, tone heavy with labored breaths.
“We… we don’t know, Yeosang.” The lack of confidence in Seonghwa’s tone betrays how he truly feels, and it scares you when he glances up to meet your eyes. The next words to fall from his lips are far worse. “San is gone too.”
Gone.
Choi San is gone.
“No,” you choke out, hardly aware that you say the small word of denial out loud. “Not again. I-I… pl-please—”
“What would’ve happened if you died out there?”
The world suddenly feels a lot less real, like you’re stuck in a pathetic state of limbo and watching everything happen around you without being a part of it. There is a stabbing pain in your chest that lingers for far too long.
“And I wasn’t there to be with you. What would I have done if you died before I told you how much I care about you?”
Seonghwa, Yunho, Jongho, Yeosang, Hongjoong. Five people in the room. And not one is San.
This time when you reach out to Seonghwa, it’s a desperate attempt to have something ground you. Jongho moves to intercept your movements and stand in Seonghwa’s place, but the lieutenant doesn’t let him do so; instead, he slips away from Yeosang and closer to you. His fingers slip between yours, squeezing tightly at your hand, and his other hand moves around your waist. He anchors himself there, the sinking sensation of his warmth filling your senses as you drink it in deeper and deeper. The black waters of panic surge around you.
This is what you feared would happen.
The reason why you were so adamant and desperate not to get attached.
Seonghwa braces his body against yours. The anchor sinks deeper. You ball your fists around the fabric of his coat, clinging to it like a lifeline, and your panicked gaze drops to where Yeosang still kneels on the floor. Jongho squats beside him now, having taken Seonghwa’s place by his side. If your pain and fear are this deep, then you cannot even begin to imagine how Yeosang is feeling at this moment in time.
Can love be so powerful that it changes the deepest parts of a person? You would like to believe that yes, it can. And you can only say that because of the way Kang Yeosang – an Elitist, an arrogant and logic-inclined Elitist – is hunched over on the floor sobbing into his hands. Sobbing could not even begin to describe his cries, in all honesty. They are wretched and awful, so broken at the seams that every crack in Yeosang’s usually so-put-together composure shows every drop of pain in his body. You aren’t sure what you expected from him — perhaps anger? Rage directed towards Seonghwa and Jongho for not getting there sooner? Towards himself for failing to keep Wooyoung safe? Towards you since you gave your word to him?
You aren’t sure if it’s the panic gradually residing or if Seonghwa is influencing your emotions somehow with his closeness and the heat of his breath on your ear, but your heart slowly comes down to a more regular pace. The intense pain over your heart remains quite present. You can manage that; Yeosang, however, just seems to be devolving further and further into a drastic state of hysteria thanks to the news. There is nothing you can do — nothing any of you could possibly do to console him unless you brought Wooyoung through the door right this instant.
Sometimes, on days that were not so busy or stressful, you would find yourself in the mess hall with Yeosang and Wooyoung, maybe with Jongho or San at your side as well. You never put much thought into it back in the heat of the moment, just filtered through things and stored certain memorable moments in the recesses of your brain. But something you could always clearly see from Yeosang – something you see every single time he looks at the dark-haired man – is the way the Elitist would look at Wooyoung as though he held every star in the universe in the palm of his hand. Now you can reason it out and know why exactly Yeosang would look at Wooyoung in such a way.
Because the man hunched over on the floor before you is crying as though the light of his life has been taken from him, like he is fully enshrouded in such an intensity of darkness that there is no way out.
They are doing nothing more than the rest of every last sorry soul in the universe: trying to create what would be their perfect world. Fate has deprived them of enough. Who are you to take more from them?
You would make every last monster who took Wooyoung from Yeosang pay a hundred times over, just as you would do the same to the ones who took San from you.
Jongho maintains a steady touch on his shoulders, one hand squeezing tightly around each one, but the gesture doesn’t slow or stop the cries falling from Yeosang’s lips. It’s with a rare look of desperation that Seonghwa focuses his attention on Yunho, and with an unspoken plea for Yunho to give him something, anything. All the healer can manage is a shake of his head, and he returns to watching Yeosang sob forlornly. For Yunho of all people to admit that there isn’t anything he can do to help the man right now is a punch in the gut. Seonghwa leans away from you to mutter something into the shell of Jongho’s ear, and the Berserker offers a curt nod in response.
“Let’s get you some food,” Seonghwa whispers once he turns back to you. “Jongho will stay with Yeosang for now and… try his best to calm him down some. At least enough so that we can discuss further and talk about a plan.” Seonghwa sinks his teeth into his lower lip. “I wish — I’m sorry I don’t have more answers. I wish I could give you more than what we have now.” The way Seonghwa gazes at you speaks more than the words that fall from his lips. The endless apologies on his mind that don’t come to light – you don’t need to hear any of them to know how he’s feeling and how he’s blaming himself for not doing more.
When he stands, you move with him, albeit on shaky legs that aren’t used to the sudden pressure. Yunho leads the way out of the room without a word. Again the world seems to shift under your feet, like a cruel slap to the face, and you can almost feel yourself slipping back into a dingy and rusted cell. Your mind is so disconnected from reality that you don’t even fully fall into a flashback; it comes in snippets instead, gross figments of your past that you don’t want anymore.
“He’s not coming back. I told him to leave for good.”
“H-He wouldn’t do that, Hyunwoo. He wouldn’t leave us. Jisung’s – he’s different, not like that!” Your hand clasp desperately at the iron bars separating you from the broad-shouldered man. Hyunwoo dips his chin to his chest.
“Forgive me, Y/N… the only way I could convince him to leave was to – was to tell him that you were dying with me.” Your throat goes impossibly dry. “Jisung is gone. As soon as they take your chains off, you should do the same. Get the hell out of here, get off this planet, and – and do better.”
Seonghwa’s hand rests on the small of your back. The pressure of his palm increases with each passing second. It pulls you back and gives you glimpses of the present. A dark hallway, stairs, a smiling woman who motions towards an empty table.
“I – Hyunwoo, I didn’t even get to say goodbye!”
“I’m sorry. This was the only way I could save you all. Maybe one day you will get to see each other again, and you can tell him the truth. And he can tell you the truth.”
Sitting down, Yunho sitting across from you.
“What fucking truth? You can’t do this now of all times, Hyunwoo! It isn’t the time to be cryptic and mysterious!”
Seonghwa’s hand still on you.
“You’ll understand one day, Y/N. I promise.”
You don’t understand a thing. And you certainly don’t get why life or fate or whatever the fuck it is keeps wrenching the people you care about from your grasp.
“Do you at least know whether they’re alive?” You ask, tone hesitant and quiet yet pleading at the same time.
“San and Mingi both had their wristbands still on. Vital signs were active for quite some time but…” You don’t even care that there is a ‘but’. Simply hearing that the vital signs were active is enough to wrench a relieved sigh from your lips. “We have reason to believe that they were taken off-planet. The bands only work within a certain range, and the atmosphere affects them greatly as well. Since we were all on-planet, I didn’t set the frequencies to adjust for space travel. I-I should’ve thought of all the possibilities and planned accordingly.”
The woman from earlier bustles around the table, delivering plates of an assortment of foods from bread to fruits to meats. Despite hunger curling in your gut, you aren’t sure that you can stomach the food anyway. Seonghwa nudges a plate in your direction, and you decide to at least put in a bit of an effort for him, if only to make him feel better.
“It’s not your fault.”
The words surprise both you and Seonghwa, heads whipping up to look at the man who spoke in unison. Yunho stares down at the table as though he hasn’t breathed a word at all, but you all know what he said, heard it loud and clear.
“Pardon?” Seonghwa says after blinking away his shock.
“It’s not your fault. There was no way you could have expected what would happen on the mission. Even if you did expect it, there was no possible way of preventing the damage that was done. Thus… it is not your fault.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust comfort coming from your lips, Yunho.”
The healer sighs upon hearing Seonghwa’s clipped tone, carefully setting his fork down beside his plate, and when he glances up at the lieutenant, his gaze is unreadable.
“I feel guilty too, you know. For not fighting more, doing more, not being strong enough, for not being the one they took. Seeing… seeing Yeosang’s reaction and Y/N’s reaction — those things make me wish that I had been taken in Wooyoung or San’s place. In Mingi’s place. I know you feel the same way, just as we both wish that we could have taken Hongjoong’s place in the arena.” Seonghwa’s fingers curl into a tight fist against the wood of the table. “I do not want to admit this, and it truly pains my pride to say it, but I do realize the truth of the situation. If things had gone worse for Hongjoong, then you would have lost the most out of everyone.”
“Comparing losses is like comparing apples to oranges, Yunho. A loss to me is far different than a loss to you. It isn’t about who loses more.”
“Yet, you would have had to step up and become captain right away. Be on the bridge of the ship alone for the first time in years but with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be coming back. Bury Ho–”
“Is it your goal to pain me right now?” Seonghwa asks through gritted teeth. His tone is almost choked in the way it strains in the back of his throat, evidence of how upset the mere thought of Yunho’s words are making him. Yet, for once, you don’t feel as though Yunho is intentionally trying to upset him. As shitty as it may be, you almost think that it is his attempt at an apology. Yes, his ego and pride and a whole slew of other issues that he has have not gone away and are blocking him from providing a proper apology. But his tone is not aggressive or seeking to draw anger out of Seonghwa.
“It’s not. We both know Hongjoong will awaken and that he will recover. He will be okay, and he’s come back from worse in the past. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t worry, but it allows us to have more confidence this time around. And I know that when he does wake up, your name will be the first on his lips. What Vladimir said before Hongjoong descended into the arena — he mentioned how Hongjoong looks at you like you’re something precious. Still. Even after all this time and everything you’ve been through together, he still looks at you the same way. I merely feel an unreasonable and unruly amount of jealousy when I think about it.”
“And that jealousy drives you to overstep boundaries and lines you should not cross.”
“Then we share in that jealousy.” Yunho’s gaze flits up to meet Seonghwa’s across the table. You expect some sort of altercation to unfold between them, but for the time being, they both remain level-headed. The thread keeping Seonghwa tethered is wearing thinner and thinner by the second; you can see it in the way his clenched fist trembles. “He didn’t start coming to me to slight you, Seonghwa. It was never about rubbing it in or trying to hurt you. He only came to me because he didn’t want to hurt you.”
The thing about love is that no matter how hard you try to force it down, no matter how much you kick and scratch and bite at it in a desperate attempt to push it away, it always comes back with more force than before. The more you fight it, the more it spreads. The thoughts that invade your mind, the memories clinging to your skin like a disease, the emotions curling sharp talons into your heart. So no matter how much Seonghwa claims to love you, he will always be fighting his love for Hongjoong. The same can be said of you and your love for Jisung, or even your care for San. Love is not something you can force out of your heart; it is something that you must gradually grow out of, and you only realize now that all your attempts to run away have made it worse.
“Y/N, I—” Yunho cuts his thought short to look towards the ceiling. He must have had enough of the conversation with Seonghwa, tone shifting as he changes the topic over to you. “You did not run away even though you had every opportunity to.”
“Don’t give me one now.” Yunho is trying to say that he was wrong, and you can recognize that. Seonghwa surely can as well. If it’s forgiveness he’s after, however, you aren’t inclined to give it to him quite yet. An apology given under the guise of narcissism doesn’t deserve forgiveness, and forgiveness given in that situation would only breed further issues later on down the line. The selfish part of you also just doesn’t want to forgive him yet.
The meal continues on in silence for quite some time. You don’t bother with trying to figure out how much time passes exactly; all you know is that the air surrounding the table is terse at best. Things only change when Yunho decides to speak again, although this time it’s to drop bombshell information that you could never have predicted.
“You know my mother was murdered here on Kebos.” He doesn’t look up from his plate, but both you and Seonghwa again jerk to stare in his direction.
“I thought she died of illness,” Seonghwa whispers.
“She did. The illness was poison. Poison administered by one Vladimir the Bloody.”
“I — Yunho, I had no idea th—”
“It was my job, my duty, my responsibility to heal her. I knew what to do, I knew how to heal her, how to extract the poison from her body, and I couldn’t do it. Every case I take on is a selfish attempt for me to reconcile those mistakes. To, if nothing else, prove to myself that I am not the failure who watched on as his mother died because he was too weak to save her. I didn’t save my mother, I didn’t keep Mingi from killing his father, and I didn’t save Cass. I broke Jongho’s trust, failed Y/N when she confronted me with the truth, and I cannot count on one hand the amount of times that I’ve failed you, Seonghwa. I’m not asking you to pity me or feel sorry for me. When I first woke up and started treating Hongjoong, you begged me to save him. I do not fear Vladimir taking another life from me. I fear not being able to do the job that is expected of me when the going gets rough.” Yunho drops his hands to the table, letting his palms lie flat against the wood. “I don’t care what you think of me. Whether you find me to be selfish and egotistical — that does not matter to me. I just refuse to let you look at me like I’m still that failure who is helpless and naive. I see it enough when I look in the mirror.”
Seonghwa inhales sharply as Yunho speaks but does not make an effort to come up with any sort of reply until well after the healer has stopped talking.
“Never once have I thought you to be a failure, Yunho,” he mutters. “Nor have I ever despised you. All my anger is directed at myself and Hongjoong. I never wanted you to get dragged into that, but things just happened this way. It’s unavoidable when we all work in such close quarters day in and day out.” Seonghwa sighs and drops his chin to his chest. A hesitant hand reaches up to comb through his dark hair, pushing it off his forehead, then that same hand drops down to his side. “You two should eat quickly. I’m meeting with someone here soon.”
“You are?”
“Yes, the man we found with your bodies initially. I asked to question him about what he saw, if he has anything we can use to find the others, and he agreed to meet me here.”
“Consider me gone,” Yunho sighs, leaning away from the table. “I need to check on Hongjoong and dress his wounds again. And have a chat with Yeosang if he’s any less… hysterical.” Seonghwa offers a hasty nod. Yunho continues pushing away from the table until he’s on his feet, and he doesn’t wait for you to move before he walks up the stairs and out of sight. A hand drops onto your thigh, not searching for anything more than the small contact.
“I would not be opposed to you staying here with me during this meeting.”
“Do you think this person might try something?”
“I doubt he would be so bold as to do that. It’s just that… well, your presence brings me peace.” Seonghwa whispers the words under his breath as though they’re meant for your ears only.
“Because of what we are,” you state even though it was initially meant to be a question. Seonghwa huffs out a quiet laugh and shakes his head a little.
“If that’s what you would like to believe, then yes.”
Seonghwa’s hand falls away from your thigh. At first, you think you’ve done or said something wrong, but the way his back straightens and eyes grow cold tells you that it is something else entirely. You follow his line of sight to the door to the hostel, catching the way it swishes open, and a hooded figure steps through. It must be the man Seonghwa saw in the arena, but you can’t quite catch his face through the harsh shadows his hood casts over his face. Some odd feeling twists in your gut as he moves towards your table, like you already know what is about to happen, and yet that still cannot prepare you for it.
Because when the man slides into the spot where Yunho just sat and tugs his green cloak back to expose his face, you truly feel as though you have entered some strange distortion of reality.
“I don’t believe I introduced myself when we last met, Lieutenant of Death,” he says, tone as clear and teasing as the day you met him all those years ago. “My name is Jisung. Han Jisung. I hope you’ll remember it.”
“I’m sure I will,” Seonghwa exhales through a tight smile. He motions towards you, eyes remaining glued to Jisung’s features as he speaks again. “This is—”
“Y/N L/N, Ghost of Eros. Oh, where to begin with her repertoire? Best sniper in the military of Eros. Assassin of the King of Eros. One of six members in Unit 24, a reconnaissance and extermination team operating under the esteemed military of Eros. Recruit number 17. Little lady, perhaps?” He smiles at you with every passing word. Smiles like not a day has passed and nothing has changed between the two of you. Round cheeks balling up with the same joy they always did in the past, and you nearly believe that time has frozen for the two of you when you see it. Seonghwa brings you back to reality, eyes wide and flashing confusing as he glances between Jisung’s smiling face and your more solemn one.
“You two… do you know each other?”
“Han Jisung, otherwise known in the past as the assassin and reconnaissance specialist of Unit 24. Recruit number 41.”
Seonghwa inhales so sharply that the air whistles through his teeth. His gaze is on you, and you can feel it so intensely that you almost want to burst into tears to alleviate some of the pressure in your head. You have reached the point of no return, chest so tight with emotion that you somehow feel nothing at all when you blink back at Jisung. It haunts you — the mere fact that you are looking at the man who once held your whole existence in the palm of his hand as though he means absolutely nothing to you.
A hand slips back over your thigh, searching for your own desperately, and you know Seonghwa just wants to offer whatever comfort he can right now. The damage is already done. The dam is already broken. And your words spill forth with a reckless abandon that you never imagined you could muster up.
“You knocked me to the ground and injected me with some sort of potent anesthesia. Whoever the hell was with you in that tunnel did the same to my four crewmates. When I woke up, it was to find that two of those crewmates are gone. You’re smart enough to realize how bad that looks for you.”
“I… I do,” Jisung says, tone falling quiet, and his smile droops a bit at the corners. Seonghwa levels him with a suspicious glare, but he doesn’t add anything more for the time being. “I hardly expected this to go over well, but all I can do is plea that you hear me out. My boss — the man I now work for asked for two people to be brought out of that arena. The Brute of Kebos and the Ghost of Eros.” Your throat turns to sandpaper, and Seonghwa’s hand clenches harshly around your leg. Jisung’s lips twitch as he grins a little wider. “You know I’ve never been good at following orders, especially when they come from a leader I can’t see directly. I have two superiors — my boss and my captain. My captain is the one who dispatched me and my three crewmates to take care of the mission. I have never met or seen my boss; I don’t know his name, his face, anything about him. That made it easy to decide what to do, because as soon as I heard ‘Ghost of Eros’, I knew I wouldn’t be able to take you. So, when I went into that tunnel and saw you with four other people, I made a spur of the moment decision to take two others under the guise that… that we simply could not find the Ghost of Eros, but we brought two others instead.”
“You used my crew as a bargaining chip?” Seonghwa seethes.
“To protect Y/N, yes. I know that if it meant protecting your crew, you would do the same.”
Seonghwa’s jaw stutters, but he is unable to come up with any sort of reasonable or logical response. Jisung is right, and you all know it. That doesn’t keep your rage from overflowing, although it isn’t directed at the man across the table. More than that, ti’s what he said. That his boss — whoever that may be — wanted you, and because of you, both Wooyoung and San were taken. Guilt sweeps over your whole body, overtakes your senses in less than a second, and before you know it, your vision blurs with unshed tears.
“You should have fucking let them have me,” you spit before a dry sob tears through your throat.
Because of you, your team fell to pieces and broke apart. Juyeon abandoned his best friend. Soojin left the only family she had. Ash lost all the people he looked up to. Jisung gave up everything. And Hyunwoo walked to his death.
“Why wouldn’t you let them have me? What were you thinking? That you couldn’t set me free at some point on the way back to your boss? That I couldn’t fucking protect myself? Why would you take them in my place?”
Because of you, Wooyoung was taken. San was taken. The light of Yeosang’s life is gone. All your past mistakes rush back to greet you, reflected in the face of the man before you.
“Even after all this time, you would always be my priority.”
Seonghwa snakes his hand around your back, fingers dancing over your spine as he lifts it to brush against the base of your neck. You wish that the action would bring you comfort, that it would do something to alleviate the burning pain spreading through your chest, yet it does nothing except make your tears roll over the balls of your cheeks. Jisung’s brows knit together as he watches you cry. He stretches a hand halfway across the table and stops there, unsure about going the rest of the way.
“If I had known what they meant to you… I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“If you had known what they meant to me, you still would have done it.” Jisung shifts his jaw at your words, eyes blinking away from yours and confirming what you already know to be true. There’s another question on your lips, one that you desperately want to ask but can’t bring yourself to speak into existence, so it dies in the back of your throat with your cries. Seonghwa’s fingers continue their methodical drags over the base of your neck.
“That is true, yes, but — but now it means that I can help you get them back. All of them, including the Brute of Kebos.”
“What’s the catch?” Seonghwa inquires. Jisung wets his lips then presses them tightly together before speaking again. His gaze falls on you, the soft gleam in them taking you back to a starlit night full of cherrywood and sugar and the taste of honey and vanilla on your tongue.
“I want to retire from this life of… constant running and fighting and following orders. I want to do something for myself, but someone made me a promise a few years ago. To retire with me, move here on Kebos, and put that life behind us. If I’m going to help you, I need a surefire promise that after we get them back, Y/N will come back to Kebos with me.”
“That is not a deal I can agree to. Not without having time to discuss it with both Y/N and my captain—”
“Are you not the acting captain, Park Seonghwa? I saw the extent of the damage done in that arena, most delivered by none other than the Brute of Kebos. You can’t tell me that he will be up anytime soon, and I doubt your friends can wait that long for an agreement on your part.”
“Don’t – don’t drag him into this,” you mutter, trying to keep your tone as flat as possible. “I’ll do it.”
“Y/N, no.” Seonghwa blinks down at you. His eyes are wide and glassy, and even just those two words convey more emotion than you thought possible. He said he was afraid to lose both you and Hongjoong. What about when it comes to choosing between three crewmates – people he’s been with for years now – and you, someone he’s only known for months. It isn’t a decision you would wish on anyone. You don’t know what you would do in such a position. You do know that you would rather see yourself back in a prison cell for treason than let Wooyoung, San, and Mingi be taken to some god-forsaken place. As Seonghwa once said, sacrifice and trust go hand in hand. Now, he needs to trust that this is the best decision you can make and let you make it.
“You love her,” Jisung states, drawing Seonghwa’s gaze off you for a moment. “What is love compared to duty? Would it keep you from agreeing to my help, something invaluable in this situation?”
“You would do well not to romanticize love in such a way otherwise you will be sorely disillusioned. Love contains the freedom to choose what you want without the other person making any decision for you. Hence why if this is what Y/N wants to agree to, then I will compromise for her.” There lies a hidden meaning in Seonghwa’s words. They aren’t just meant to defend himself and explain his reasoning, but criticize Jisung for what lies behind his bargain.
“Love means keeping promises as well.”
Those words bring a dramatic halt to your tears, causing anger to bubble up in your gut as you process them, and all you can think is how fucking hypocritical it is of him to say such a thing.
“Don’t subject me to a life without you in it, Jisung.”
“I could never. I love you far too much to do that.”
“Promise me that you won’t.”
“I swear on my life that I’ll never leave you.”
“Then why did you not keep the ones you made me?”
“I was told that you were going to die.”
“If you had truly believed that… If our positions had been swapped, I would have at least stayed and done something to stop it.”
“I suppose that’s where we have our differences then. I trusted Hyunwoo enough to believe him when he told me you were both slated to die and that I should leave. But you’ve always had a problem with trust, haven’t you?”
“I think it’s best if you stop talking before you ruin your chances of walking out of here alive,” Seonghwa retorts before you can come up with a response.
“You wouldn’t dare kill me when I’m the only one who can help right now.”
“No, but I can hurt you just enough to leave you within of life and force the information out of you. I do not wear the mantle of ‘Lieutenant of Death’ for show. Although, if you truly believe that it’s merely a farce, I would be more than happy to show you how I got the title. You have what you want. She’s agreed to this deal of yours, which means it’s now on you to uphold your end of the bargain.”
Jisung regards the man with nothing more than a wavering glance for several seconds. Then he drops his head, a messy mop of blond hair falling forward to cover his forehead.
“I can meet you here again tomorrow morning, but it’s too late to be going out right now. My guess is that your captain will need at least three days before he can even be well enough to move to your ship.”
“It will only take him two. He’s a determined son of a bitch after all.”
“Of course he is. I’d expect nothing less from someone of his notoriety. Tomorrow, I can bring information concerning where they’ve taken your crew as well as what they intend to do with them, if I can. Boss has been pretty mum about his intentions, but I can at least figure out what they’ll do with two he didn’t ask for.”
“Won’t your captain be suspicious of your absence?”
“My captain is none other than Vladimir the Bloody. He doesn’t care to keep tabs on his men when they aren’t working a job for him. My job is complete. All that’s left for me to do is report back on the status of the mission. After that… I can easily eavesdrop on his conversations with the boss. I’m a Spectre, after all, and a damn good one at that. I’ll do my part. You have my word.” Jisung pushes himself up from the table, stepping over the bench and turning around to face you again in one move. “Y/N, if there had been any other way to get you out of there, I would have done it in a heartbeat.”
You answer him with silence. Your bloodshot eyes avoid his features like the plague. You only decide to look at the place where he just stood when you hear a door swishing, and it’s empty when your gaze falls upon it. Seonghwa’s hand slips down to meet yours. He intertwines his fingers through yours without saying anything, offering a silent plea for you to follow him when he too stands up. And you do. You let him pull you to your feet and up the stairs without complaint, even when he stops in front of a new door and guides you inside. It’s a single bedroom, much different than the one you woke up in, and Seonghwa parts from you there with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a whispered promise that he will be right back.
You hardly process a thing as you fall to your side on the bed and tuck your legs up into your chest so that you are curled into the most fetal position you can manage. The darkness in the room adds to your dazed state, shadows blur together into almost human-like forms in the edges of your vision, and you find yourself drifting back in time until your surroundings feel a lot more like that hotel in Echidna where San laid his soul bare before you.
A shaky hand reaches across the darkness to brush over the mattress as though San will appear under your fingers if you do so. He wouldn’t have been taken if not for you. Why won’t that thought leave your mind? The guilt that eats away at your stomach is far too much; it physically hurts you with every breath you heave, and your breaths rasp into the empty air before you. Fingers tighten around the linen sheets. The shadows almost come to a rest before you, almost morph into a face that is recognizable, so close to a dimpled smile and cat-like eyes.
Please be okay. Please be alive. I don’t know what I would do if you aren’t okay.
“Y/N.”
The voice doesn’t startle you or cause you to shift in the slightest. Every muscle in your body feels ten times heavier than before. Seonghwa slips into the empty space before you, causing that shadowy figure vaguely resembling San to dissipate into thin air. Whatever spell was binding you to the silence shatters, and you choke out a fresh sob. Seonghwa catches your wrist and tugs you into his embrace without hesitation. You can only press your forehead against his chest as tears begin to fall.
“This isn’t your fault, Y/N. I promise,” he murmurs, chin coming to rest atop your head. “You didn’t make them get taken, you aren’t the reason why they were taken. That decision… it was not yours. Jisung is the one responsible for that, not you. And he is paying for that choice by helping get them back.”
There is an elephant in the room. One so large and intruding that it occupies most of your thoughts as you listen to Seonghwa speak. You choose to continue avoiding it, running from him, pushing it back to the deepest recesses of your mind while you can.
“I’m t-tired of running from the – the past only for it to r-repeat itself,” you stutter through choked sobs. Seonghwa’s hold tightens around you.
“I know, Y/N. I know you are. I am too. But I understand. We are going to get this. All of us, with not one person left behind or forgotten.” His chin shifts until you feel his lips caressing the curve of your ear, hand tangled deep in your hair. “I’m here, I’m with you. I’m not going anywhere. For now. For as long as it lasts.”
When you first asked him to make that promise, you did not think that your time together would be so impossibly short, but now it truly feels like there is a ticking time bomb surrounding everything about you two.
“Why didn’t you ask him to make a different deal?”
“Because it was your choice, Y/N. I hate the mere thought of having to trade you for — I hate it. Yet if this is what you truly want… if you have a chance to rest peacefully at last with someone you love, who am I to deprive you of that? That is all I could ever want for you.”
“Stop me from doing it, Seonghwa,” you cry weakly. A pathetic whimper slips past your lips as you pull your head away from his chest to look him in the eye, and you are startled now because nothing could have prepared you for the sight before you. Tears paint the smooth skin of his cheeks, leaving ugly streaks down the side of his nose. “Make me stay. Please, I-I won’t stay otherwise. If nothing else just – just make me stay because I’m a Siren, because Hongjoong needs me, because you need me. Be selfish, please, I’m begging you.”
“I was selfish enough to have you as long as I did.” He smiles through the whisper. Not a happy or content smile, not one that brings you comfort, not one that blossoms a warmth in your chest. It’s one that takes your heart right out of your chest and squeezes it so painfully that you cannot breathe. “We can find another Siren. There are always others out there but this? This could be your only chance to have a normal and peaceful life.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want normal or peaceful, I don’t want to go.”
“I think that deep down in your heart, you know that this is what you want. What you’ve always wanted. A chance to be free of expectations and pain. I would do anything to give you that opportunity, yet maybe Hongjoong and I are meant for each other simply because of what we are at the end of the day. Scourge of the Black Sea and the Lieutenant of Death. San told me that you have pardon papers. You can use those to clear you—”
“But they aren’t for me! They aren’t for me. I don’t want – I don’t deserve to be the one who is pardoned. What makes me more deserving than the man who died for me?”
“Oh, darling, if you could see yourself through my eyes, you would know that you are the most deserving person in the universe.” Seonghwa cups your cheek so gently, with such care, and holds you as though you are delicate and precious. “I know my fate, Y/N. It is to die amongst the black sea at my captain’s side. I do not think that is meant to be your fate though.” If you could possibly cry any harder than you are, you truly would. It is hard enough to breathe as it is, sobs continuing to tumble from your lips as Seonghwa keeps on holding you in the palm of his hand. “I’m sorry. I would do anything for you, but I cannot force you to stay. That is the one thing I cannot bring myself to do.”
You crash your lips against Seonghwa’s in a mess of salty tears and saliva, teeth clashing with his, but he’s right there with you, gasping into your mouth as a quiet sob slips through his previously unbroken visage. There is no more strength left in your body. You don’t have it in you to continue the kiss, and you can barely keep your eyes open at this point. When Seonghwa pulls his mouth away from yours, you can’t even chase him for another kiss, letting him slip a hand behind your head and tuck you into his shoulder. Hot breath ghosts down the back of your neck. You cling to it as desperately as you can like it’s the last bit of warmth you will ever be able to have from him, even though you know deep down that that is not true. He carries you into a deep sleep like that, and it is a sleep that awakens new dreams in you with new and haunting implications to them that you won’t be able to explain come morning.
Panic surges through your veins, startling you into a state of consciousness, but when your eyes open you can only see dark shadows in your vision. You aren’t alone. You know that much thanks to the steady sounds of breathing around you – at least two people with you, wherever it is you are. There is a strange sensation about your body, one that you recognize from your previous visit to the Dreamscape, but you cannot see well enough to stare down at your body and figure out what it is. Two shaky hands dart up to your neck, clasping around something terribly cold and metal. It’s a collar of sorts, and it refuses to budge even a centimeter as you try to yank at it.
A finger slips under the ridge of the metal. You brush over the cold skin there only to find a blossoming scar across your neck, one that spreads no matter how far you move your hand along the collar. You jerk your hand out from under it with a growing feeling of disgust churning in your stomach.
In the very least, your eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, and you can make out the two figures with you. One sits off in the furthest corner of whatever cell you’re being held in. Broad shoulders slumped forward and showing unconsciousness, but you can detect the faintest scent of blood coming from him. The other is closer to you, only an arm’s length away from you, but his head faces away from you so you can’t make out any of his features.
You dare to reach out to him, forcing your tired muscles into action as you drag yourself closer to him. Even through the darkness, your hands look far too masculine to belong to you, but you hardly have time to think about that when you pull the man to face you.
A strip of white in his hair. Unmistakable features, even in the dark.
San.
You stumble back with a gasp, head hitting the metal wall behind you so hard that your vision goes spotty for several seconds. You still can’t see straight as you force yourself towards the other man in the corner. Hands fumble over his collar, jerking and pulling until his head falls forward into your waiting hands. Fluttering lashes pull his eyes open. Red eyes. Close-cut hair on the sides, blood trickling down the side of his temple.
Mingi.
You lose all control of your body — if you can even call it your body. Something else takes over, something pushes its way forward and assumes full control when Mingi fully comes to and squints at you. Off to the side, San is waking up as well, a soft grunt falling from his lips that has the body you’re in darting back over to where he’s hunched.
“San, are you okay?” The words aren’t yours. The voice is foreign but not quite, only odd because it feels like it is coming from your lips.
You can remember it now. The face in the water was not your own. It was Wooyoung’s. You remember it oh so clearly because it scared you so much the moment you saw it. You were in the Dreamscape yet you were in Wooyoung’s body.
San blinks himself to full consciousness, squinting harshly through the dark to look at you better.
“Wooyoung?”
✧✧✧ a/n: hi yes welcome. welcome. to the finale of act four. welcome yes wow can you believe it? i can’t um yeah so !!! a TON happened! let me know what you think, how you feel, how much you hate me! i love to see it! that ending tho 👁👁
taglist: @faeriewoobin​​ @sugarrimajins​​ @atinyinwonderland​​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​ @sparklychangbin​​ @jeong-uwu​​ @jeonartemis​​ @anothershorthuman​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​​ @haotheheckk​​ @noonawriter​​ @lostscenarios​​ @nlost21​​ @mirror-juliet​​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet​ @toothlessshiber​ @atinyarmyx1​ @simpforhyunjin​ @hwangwoosan​ @vampire-jimin​ @softyubi​ @drumboydowoon​ @chatsgotmytongue​ @just-a-starfruit​ @babydolljo​ @scintillating-souls​ @khjssss @felixity​ @rawrrainn​ @hewwo-from-the-other-side​
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Remedy – Howlin’ For You – One Shot
Description: Bucky finds out some news regarding his baby sister. 
Word Count: 2,500
Howlin’ For You - Masterlist
Read the series or you will not know what the fuck is happening.
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Bucky awoke to the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand.
He unwrapped his arms from Y/N’s body, which unfortunately caused her to slightly wake up as well.
Bucky was used to receiving phone calls in the middle of the night. It was one of the side effects of being the leader of a biker gang that often enforced acts of vigilantism.
But it wasn’t a Howlie whose named flashed on his screen brightly.
“Buck?” Y/N mumbled, still half asleep.
“Everything’s fine, doll. Go back to sleep,” he whispered to her and gave her cheek a kiss for good measure before shifting out of bed with his cell.
He quietly closed Y/N’s bedroom door and made his way downstairs to talk privately in her living room.
“What is it Agent Stark?” Bucky nearly growled.
“That’s Director Stark now, actually.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed into a glare, despite Tony not being able to see it. “Yeah, I heard you got a promotion after nearly getting Y/N killed.”
“Yep...almost got you killed, too.”
“What do you want?”
“Listen, I’m breaking a lot of protocols calling you right now…”
“Do you remember the part where you called me? I didn’t call asking for any favors. But I have a feeling you’re about to ask me for one…”
“No. No favors this time. This…uhh…this is family business.”
Bucky stopped pacing and waited.
“I figured you deserved to know.” Tony hesitated. “Heinz Kruger – friends called him Hank.”
Bucky’s blood went cold and all his movements froze. He hadn’t heard that name in years. And he hoped he never would.
It was the name of Rebecca’s ex-boyfriend. To be precise, the one Bucky almost murdered with his bare hands once he found out he was abusing his baby sister.
Tony cleared his throat, knowing he had Bucky’s full attention now. “He was found dead in his apartment this morning. They’re declaring it a homicide.”
“Am I on the list of possible suspects?” That was his first question. 
It would make sense. Becca had a restraining order against Hank. Bucky had a reputation for hurting people. It wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together and suspect that the big, scary, older brother wanted revenge.
“Well, that’s the thing. I asked around, and you’ve already been crossed off the list. You were at a diner with Y/N last night, weren’t you?”
Bucky hated that he knew that. “Yeah.”
“On top of that, they’ve traced your presence through multiple security cameras. You were almost a hundred miles away from the scene of the crime. On top of that, the rest of your crew seems to be spotted at their usual bar…all accounted for.”
“Why do you sound so surprised, Stark?”
“I’m not surprised that it wasn’t the doing of the Howling Commandos. I’m surprised because it seems like whoever did to it wanted to make sure none of you could be framed for the job.”
Bucky was now just as perturbed as Tony.
“I know you’ve wanted the asshole dead for years. I figured – I don’t know – she would get some kind of relief knowing that he could never hurt her again.”
Then Bucky felt guilty for giving Tony such a hard time. Yes, he was bitter still about what happened. But at the end of the day, he knew Tony was a good man and always had the right intentions. He didn’t have to reach out and give him this news. But he thought he was doing Bucky a favor…and he owed him a lot.
“Thanks for calling, Stark.” Bucky finally put his pride aside.
Tony was silent for a moment. “How’s that girl of yours doing?”  
“She’s…umm…she’s doing alright,” Bucky could at least give him that, couldn’t he?
“I’m glad. Tell her I said hi…but I have a feeling you won’t do that.”
“Bye, Tony.”
Bucky looked around the dark house after he hung up. Only one lamp was turned on in his rush to pick up the phone call.
He didn’t think he could go to back to bed. There wasn’t sleep in the cards for him tonight. If he went back now, Y/N would sense his tension and wouldn’t sleep until she figured out what had upset him.
He’d let her sleep.
The rest of his night consisted of him drinking whiskey and trying to wrap his mind around the information Stark had just given him.
—————
The next morning, Bucky marched into the shop on a mission. 
Usually everyone messed around first thing in the morning, just trying to wake up before their days really started. But everyone saw that Bucky was a little off and all watched him carefully as he made his entrance.
“Nat, can I see you in the office?”
She looked around at the rest of the crew, but nodded and followed Bucky up the metal stairs to his private office.
“What’s going on?” She asked after she closed the door.
“I need you to track someone down for me. No following. Just get me a location and I’ll handle the rest.”
She shrugged. Easy enough. “Sure, Buck. Just give me the name.”
Bucky finally looked at her as he hesitated to give the only information she needed.
He quickly aborted her gaze and sat down. “Grant Ward.”
She opened her mouth.
“Nat, please…no questions,” Bucky quickly cut off her opportunity. “Just get me his location. Got it?”
“Of course.”
—————
Bucky was working on a bike in the garage behind his house when he heard her footsteps.
She didn’t bother to wait for a greeting. She knew that he knew she was there. And so, she plopped herself down on the couch in the garage.
“Bad day?” She asked.
He finally looked up at her, but kept working on the bike. “Not exactly.”
“You’ve been off all day,” Y/N pointed out. “Seems to have started with that mysterious phone call you got last night.”
Bucky looked up at her and gave her a stern look. “Y/N…” He warned.
This was her cue. The cue that she was close to getting too involved in Howlie business. Bucky had this talk with her awhile ago. There were just some things he couldn’t tell her. It was to keep her safe, keep her conscious clean.
“I know,” she replied. “I can just tell when things are heavier.”
He tilted his head. “Heavier?”
She nodded. “It’s like there’s this invisible weight on your shoulders.” Then she sighed. “Listen, I know there are things you can’t tell me. But I also know that you can’t carry it all alone all the time.”
Bucky gave her a shy grin after her little tangent.
“What?” She asked with pure innocence.
He got up from his kneeling position next to the bike and slowly walked to her as he cleaned the grease off his hands.
Then he leaned down to kiss Y/N, which she happily accepted.
“I love you, you know that?” He asked her.
“Mhmm,” she hummed as she smiled up at him. She stole another kiss.
He sat down on the couch and maneuvered her body so she was sitting in his lap.
“I gotta go out of town tomorrow night,” he told her.
Y/N tried to read his face, but nodded reluctantly. “Who’s going with you?”
“No one. Just me.”
“Well, what about Steve? He always at least–”
“Can’t. It’s just gotta be me, doll.”
She opened her mouth to argue further.
“I know you don’t like the idea of me going anywhere alone. I know it worries you. But it’s just something I gotta do, OK?”
Y/N was quiet for a moment, thinking it all over.
“Is it dangerous?” She finally asked.
“I don’t think so.” He wanted to say ‘no,’ but he learned the hard way that he couldn’t always promise safety in this life. He didn’t want to lie to her, even by accident.
———————
Bucky had been driving his motorcycle for hours. He’d have to drive through the night to make it back home before tomorrow started. But he was willing to do it, knowing that Y/N would be worrying for less time.
He was coming up to his location soon.
The bar was lined with dozens of motorcycles, already telling him what type of place this was and who it was meant for.
Bucky took of his helmet and shook out his hair. He knew it was probably a mess from being stuck under such restrictions for such a long time. So he threw it in a messy bun low on his neck.
When he walked in, he was immediately eyed by the patrons. It was expected. The Howlies do the same thing at their places, weary of strangers and newcomers.
Bucky knew he would find him here. Nat assured him that he had been seen at this exact bar 3 days in a row.
Bucky’s gaze went across the room, looking for the familiar face.
He didn’t find the face, but did find the back of his head.
The seats on either side of him at the bar were wide open, giving Bucky a perfect opportunity to slide right on in.
From the way he reacted to Bucky sitting next to him, it was almost like he expected him to come.
“Barnes,” he greeted lowly without taking his eyes off of his drink.
“Ward,” Bucky replied cooly before ordering a whiskey from the bartender.
“Figured you’d find me eventually,” Ward sighed.
“Yeah, well, Nat could find could probably work for the CIA if she wanted to…”
Ward finally turned to face him. “You here to turn me in or something?”
Bucky chuckled and thanked the bartender as she handed him his drink. He took a sip before he said, “No. I’m not here to do that.”
“Then why the hell are you here, Barnes?”
Bucky rubbed his face. A part of him didn’t want to do this still. But he had to silence that part before it could control him.
“I came here to thank you.”
Ward scoffed and shook his head. “You think I did it for you?”
“No, I know I had nothing to do with it.”
“Does…” Ward cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Does she know yet?”
“No, I didn’t tell her. Steve said he…it’s better that he tells her than me. He’s going over there tonight to talk to her.”
Ward nodded.
“I’m mostly just wondering why…” Bucky thought aloud.
“Why?” Ward challenged.
“Yeah, why did you do it?”
Ward was silent for a moment.
“I know I broke her heart. But the worst part was what I drove her toward after I did that.” He shook his head. “You should’ve killed him when you had the chance. After what he did to Becs…” His words died out.
It was then that Bucky realized tears had formed in Grant’s eyes. But the biker managed to control his emotions. 
“After all the shit went down with Hydra, all I was left with was each of my mistakes and regrets. And…she’s the biggest one.” He rubbed the scruff around his mouth. “I just wanted to do something good for once in my life. And if I was gonna do that… I was gonna do it for her.”
Ward turned his head to Bucky. “How did you manage it? How did you manage to have it all? You got the Howlies, your family, your girl.. you got it all.”
Bucky sighed and took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know, man. I ask myself that fucking question every damn day.” Then he looked at Ward with a frown. “But I do know that I put them before myself. I choose them over me. And we both know that’s not what you did.”
Ward nodded, knowing he deserved that. “I envy you. I didn’t want to admit that.” He shrugged. “But fuck it. I do envy you.”
Bucky downed the rest of his drink and stood up.
Ward turned to fully face him. “I’m not going back to her... you know, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know you’re not,” Bucky answered.
Because they both knew that Grant wasn’t good enough for Rebecca. There was a time where he could’ve been. But he threw that chance away when he joined Hydra and broke Rebecca’s heart.
“You’ll look after her, won’t you? Like you always do?” Grant didn’t know why he had to ask. Maybe he just needed Bucky to know that he still cared about her.
Bucky looked at him before nodding his head.
Then he tipped his head, “Ward.”
He did the same, “Barnes.”
————-
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Steve watched Rebecca’s face as she processed the news.
She blinked a few times before her eyes glazed over in tears.
What was she meant to feel?
Happiness?
Relief?
Sadness?
Guilt?
Steve reached over and gripped her hand, reminding her that he was there for her.
“What are you thinking?” He asked gently.
She opened her mouth to answer, but then changed her mind and quickly closed it.
“Rebecca, there’s no right answer.”
“I’m…There’s a part of me that’s relieved. Despite knowing Bucky and you and the rest of the Howlies would never let him near me again, there was always a voice in the back of my head that was telling me he was still going to find a way to hurt me.”
She swallowed, realizing her throat was dry. “But I’m also sad because I know that even now that he’s dead…that voice isn’t going to go away. It’s always going to be there.”
Then her tears started falling. “And I’m mad…I’m mad because he turned me into a person who’s happy that someone is dead, that someone was murdered. I don’t want to be that person, Steve.”
He pulled her into him then, wrapping his arms around her protectively. “You’re not a bad person, Rebecca. You’re so much more than what he did to you. It’s barely even a tiny piece of you.”
Steve let her cry it out. Meanwhile he rubbed her back and let her know she was going to be OK.
When she finally freed herself from his grasp, she got caught in his eyes.
Those baby blue eyes that she’s known her whole life.
Before they could mesmerize her like they did when they were younger, she moved further away from him on the couch.
If Steve noticed, he pretended not to.
They weren’t those innocent teenagers anymore. They’d both lived multiple lives since then.
When they were younger, Rebecca could never figure out if she had a crush on Steve or she just didn’t know what it felt like for a boy to treat her kindly.
But none of that mattered anyway, Steve had never looked at Rebecca in any way other than the little sister he never had. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Because he did love her.
She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Steve…for telling me.”
“I know it doesn’t fix everything, but I told Bucky you deserved to know.”
Rebecca nodded. “Things are never going to go back to how they used to be, I know that.” She gave him a shy smile. “But maybe it’s a start.”
-------
Maybe all of you will hate this since Y/N really isn’t in it that much. But whatever. I wrote what I wanted to write. 
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bechloeislegit · 3 years
Text
25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020
Day 22 - The Christmas Date
Prompt from Tumblr User Anonymous: This prompt was originally given to Tumblr User AnotherBechloeShipper (see the full prompt and an additional note from her at the end). I asked if I could use it for my 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases, and she was okay with that. I took it in a bit of a different direction than the prompt called for; I hope you like it.
Beca had just entered the Bellas House and noticed most of the girls were gone. She peeked into the living room to find Chloe sitting on the sofa, flipping through a magazine.
"So, um, Chloe?" Beca asked as she walked over to stand nervously in front of her best friend.
"Yes, Beca?" Chloe responded, not looking up from her magazine.
"I heard that you, uh, weren't going home for Christmas," Beca said.
"This is true," Chloe said, looking up at Beca. "I'm staying to work at the vet clinic to get some firsthand experience."
"Oh," Beca said. "That's cool. Cool, cool, cool."
"I agree," Chloe said with a wink. "I think it's cool, cool, cool, too."
Beca winced and looked around.
"Sack up, dude!" Beca mumbled to herself.
"Are you okay, Beca?" Chloe asked, reaching out and touching Beca's arm.
Beca's head jerked over to look at Chloe's hand on her arm.
"Oh, yeah," Beca said. "I'm fine. Everything is okey-dokey with me."
"Oh, God," Beca thought. "Why am I like this?"
"Did you want something else, Becs?" Chloe asked.
"What?" Beca shot a look at Chloe. "Why would you think I wanted anything?"
"Um," Chloe said, standing. "Never mind. I'm going to my room. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Yep," Beca said. "Okay."
Beca watched Chloe start up the stairs. Chloe paused and looked back at Beca.
"Are you sure you're okay, Beca?" Chloe asked.
"Pffft," Beca said. "Yep. I'm fine. All's good in the Beca Hood."
Beca mentally face-palmed herself as she thought, "What the fuck was that?"
Chloe gave her a funny look and said, "Some of the girls went to pick up pizza for dinner. They should be back soon."
"Sounds good, Chlo," Beca said, and Chloe continued up the stairs.
Beca fell face first onto the sofa. She had been lying there for a few minutes when she heard the front door open. She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder to see the other Bellas coming in; she let her head drop back down to the sofa.
"Hey, Beca," Stacie said as she, Ashley, and Jessica entered the living room. "We brought pizza."
"Okay," Beca mumbled into the sofa cushion. "Somebody should tell Chloe you're back. She's in her room."
"I'll get her," Jessica said and went toward the stairs.
"What's up with you?" Stacie asked.
"Nothing," Beca mumbled. "I'm just a loser laying here waiting to eat pizza."
"Beca, you're not a loser," Ashley said. "What's got you all down in the dumps anyway?"
Beca sat up and sighed.
"You know how I have a thing for Chloe, right?" Beca asked.
"Yeah," Stacie and Ashley respond.
"I decided I was going to ask her out," Beca said. "But, I turned into awkward Beca and couldn't string together a coherent sentence to ask her."
"I'm sure it's not as bad as you think," Ashley said.
"Not as bad as I think?" Beca scoffed, her voice raised an octave or two. "It's worse. She asked me if I was okay, and I said all's good in the Beca Hood."
"That's, uh, that's not so bad," Stacie said, grimacing slightly.
"You need to forget about that and try again," Ashley said. "You'll be sorry if you don't."
"She won't want to go out with a loser like me," Beca said.
"It's Chloe," Stacie said. "If she doesn't want to go on a date with you, she'll let you down easy. But you won't know if you don't sack up and ask her."
Chloe and Jessica returning to the living room kept Beca from saying anything more.
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
Later that night, Beca doesn't know how it happened, but she and Chloe were suddenly alone in the living room. Beca took in a deep breath and looked at Chloe.
"Chloe?"
"Yes, Beca?"
"Would you, um, maybe want to go out with me over Winter Break? On, a, um, a date?"
"You mean a date date?" Chloe asked, looking at Beca.
"Yes," Beca said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'd love to," Chloe said with a big smile.
"You would?" Beca squeaked out, taken by surprise.
"Don't act so surprised, Beca," Chloe said, chuckling. "I like you, and I was trying to figure out a way to ask you out without sending you running for the hills."
"Really?" Beca asked, again taken by surprise.
"Yes, really," Chloe said. "I'll be working at the vet clinic almost every day, but I have Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off. Can we do it one of those nights?"
"Of course," Beca said. "I'll make a reservation for dinner on Christmas Eve if that's okay with you?"
"That sounds perfect," Chloe said.
Chloe stood and walked over to Beca. She bent over and kissed Beca on the cheek.
"I'm looking forward to it," Chloe said. "I'm going to bed, but I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Chloe," Beca said, grinning as she sat alone in the now empty living room.
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
Beca was excited that Chloe agreed to go on a date with her. The next morning, the first thing she did was call and make a reservation at Chloe's favorite Mexican restaurant.
Beca told Stacie about the date and had her help pick out an outfit before Stacie left for the break.
"You've got almost a week, Beca," Stacie said. "No matter how much I tell you a certain outfit is perfect, you'll worry about it and change your mind thirty times. Just go with something nice but casual."
"Chloe's something nice?" Beca asked. "Or my something nice? Because they are definitely not the same."
"Do you still have that red dress you bought to wear on Valentine's Day last year?" Stacie asked.
"You mean the dress I never got to wear because Jesse dumped me just before Valentine's Day for some girl in his music score class?" Beca asked. "Yeah, I still have it."
"Forget about Jesse," Stacie said. "Wear that dress for your date with Chloe. It's festive, and Chloe will love it on you."
"That's a great idea," Beca said. "Thanks, Stacie."
"Don't worry about it," Stacie said. "And don't worry about the date. It will be fine. Just fill me in on everything later, okay?"
"Okay," Beca said.
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
The girls were all gone, and Chloe and Beca were alone in the house. Chloe spent most of the day interning at the vet clinic, while Beca worked on her music and did her shifts at the radio station. They would meet up nearly every night and have dinner and watch some TV or a movie before Chloe would call it a night, citing having to be at the clinic early the next morning.
It was Christmas Eve, and Beca was excited about her date with Chloe. She spent most of the morning talking to Chloe about the Vet Clinic and her family. When lunchtime came around, Beca made a quick chicken Caesar salad for the two of them to share.
"I didn't want to make anything heavy," Beca said, setting a plate of salad and a bottle of water in front of Chloe. "I don't want to spoil our dinner."
"Do I get to know where we're going for dinner finally?" Chloe asked.
"I guess I can tell you now," Beca said. "We're going to that little Mexican place you love on the other side of campus. Our reservations are for six."
"La Taqueria?" Chloe asked excitedly. At Beca's nod, Chloe added, "I love that place. Are you trying to impress me, Miss Mitchell?"
"That's the plan, Miss Beale," Beca said, smirking.
They both dug into their salads as they laughed and talked. They were still sitting at the table a few hours later when Chloe said she was going to shower.
Beca cleaned their lunch dishes and made her way up to her room to get her stuff for a shower. She knew Chloe would be done quickly.
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
Chloe was ready at 5:30 and was waiting in the living room for Beca. Her breath hitched a bit when Beca broke the threshold into the living room. Chloe admired the view of Beca in her red dress.
"Beca," Chloe said as she stood, looking Beca up and down. "You look amazing!"
"So do you," Beca said, admiring Chloe. "But, then again, you always do."
Chloe blushed slightly at the compliment. Beca grabbed their jackets and held Chloe's out for her to put on.
"Thank you," Chloe said as she pulled her hair out from under the back of her coat.
"Shall we?" Beca asked, holding out her arm out for Chloe to take.
Chloe giggled and took Beca's arm; she held onto it as they made their way out to Beca's car. Beca opened the car door and allowed Chloe to get situated before closing the door and hurrying around to the other side. She slid behind the wheel and smiled over at Chloe.
Chloe smiled back at Beca as Beca stuck the key in the ignition. She turned the key and. . .nothing happened. Beca's smile fell from her face.
"What the Hell?"
Beca turned the key again with the same result.
"Sounds like the battery might be dead," Chloe said.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Beca slammed her hands on the steering wheel as she cried out in frustration.
"Beca, calm down," Chloe said, reaching her hand across to stop Beca from slamming her hands on the steering wheel. "We can just take my car."
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
Beca sat pouting in the passenger seat of Chloe's car as Chloe drove them to the restaurant. This night was starting out badly.
Chloe put on the turn signal to pull into the restaurant's parking lot mumbling, "Becs, are you sure this place was supposed to be open tonight?"
"What the fuck?" Beca mumbled as she found herself looking at an empty parking lot. She looked toward the restaurant, and it was dark. "Is it closed?!"
"Looks like it," Chloe said, driving over to the main door of the place.
"But, I made a reservation," Beca said. "And I have a confirmation number. How are they closed tonight, and I wasn't informed? Aren't they supposed to call and let people who made reservations know they aren't going to be open for whatever reason? Why didn't they let me know?"
"I don't know what to tell you, Beca," Chloe said with a sigh. "It looks like there's a sign on the door, but I can't see what it says from here."
"Wait here," Beca said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I'll check it out."
Chloe watched as Beca walked up to the door and stood, using the light from her phone to read the sign. She saw Beca run a hand through her hair and look back at Chloe's car. She took a moment before turning to walk back over to the car. She got in and sat staring at the restaurant.
"What did the sign say?" Chloe asked.
Beca slowly turned to look at Chloe. She let out a heavy sigh and replied, "It's been shut down by the Health Department for several health code violations."
"Oh," Chloe said.
"What are we going to do now?" Beca asked. "The whole night is ruined."
"No, it's not," Chloe said. "Let's just go to the diner. They're open, and I'm hungry."
"Okay," Beca said. "I guess it's better than nothing."
"Come on, Beca," Chloe said, gripping Beca's hand. "We can salvage this. Don't give up so easily."
"I just wanted our first real date to be memorable," Beca mumbled, looking down at her hands.
"It still can be," Chloe said, smiling as she put the car in drive and made her way out of the parking lot.
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
Beca was so bummed about her date not turning out how she wanted that she sat across the table from Chloe, not saying anything.
Chloe looked at her and waited, but Beca still hadn't spoken after five minutes of silently sitting there.
"So, um," Chloe said, looking over the menu. "I think I'm going to get breakfast for dinner. How about you?"
"Sure, Chloe," Beca said, staring down at the table. "Sounds good."
Chloe slammed her menu down with a huff.
"If you don't really want to be here with me, we can just leave."
"What?" Beca said, looking at Chloe. "No, I want to be here."
"Then act like it!" Chloe responded.
"I'm sorry," Beca said. "I'm trying so hard to give you the date you deserve."
"Stop trying so hard," Chloe said, reaching across to cover Beca's hand with hers. "Just let whatever happens happen. I promise you that whatever you think is going wrong is not as bad as you're making it out to be."
"You're just saying that to be nice," Beca said.
"So, what if I am?" Chloe asked, releasing Beca's hand as she shrugged her shoulders. "It's better than sulking over things you have no control over."
Chloe took a deep breath and let it out. She looked at Beca.
"Relax, Beca, and let's just enjoy the rest of our date."
~~ Day 22 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~
The ride home was quiet. Chloe kept looking over at Beca, but Beca would not look at her; she just stared out the side window.
"I'm sorry about your dress," Beca mumbled, breaking the silence.
"What was that?" Chloe questioned. "I couldn't hear you."
"I said, I'm sorry about your dress," Beca said a bit louder so Chloe would hear her.
Beca still did not look at Chloe.
"The soda added a nice stickiness, but it's fine," Chloe said with a small smile toward Beca. "It will be as good as new once I wash it. "
Beca continued to stare out the window and would not look at Chloe. The only sounds made during the rest of the trip home were Chloe's heavy sighs.
Beca was out of the car and making her way to the front door before Chloe had unfastened her seatbelt. She hurried after Beca and caught up to her just as she reached the door. Beca made it through the door, and Chloe grabbed her by the arm.
"Go change into your pajamas," Chloe said. "I'll meet you in the living room in fifteen minutes."
"I'm going to bed," Beca said, jerking her arm out of Chloe's grasp.
"No, you're not," Chloe said, retaking Beca's arm and staring into her eyes to make sure she was paying attention. "If you're not back down here in fifteen minutes, I will come up and drag you down here. Don't test me on this because you will not win."
The look on Chloe's face let Beca know that Chloe meant business.
"Fine!" Beca said and stomped up the stairs.
Chloe followed behind Beca and went to her room. She quickly threw on her pajamas and rushed back downstairs. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a few things before going into the living room to set everything up.
Chloe waited the full fifteen minutes before going upstairs to get Beca. She had just made it to the second-floor landing when Beca came rushing out into the hallway from her room. Beca stopped short when she saw Chloe.
"You were really coming to get me?" Beca asked, eyes wide in astonishment.
"I told you I would," Chloe said. "Come on and don't make me drag you down the stairs. I have everything ready for us."
Beca meekly followed Chloe downstairs and into the living room.
"What's all this?" Beca asked, looking at the tub of ice cream and two spoons sitting on the coffee table.
"We're going to do what we always do when I get home from a date," Chloe said. "We're going to eat ice cream and talk about it."
"I get it, Chloe," Beca said angrily. "The date sucked. You don't have to tell me; I was there. Remember?"
"Of course, I remember, Beca," Chloe said sweetly. "Now sit."
Chloe sat cross-legged on the couch and pointed to the spot across from her. Beca huffed but sat cross-legged across from Chloe.
Chloe picked up the ice cream and the two spoons, holding one out toward Beca. Beca took the spoon and played with it. Chloe opened the ice cream and set it between them. She took up a scoop on her spoon and brought it to her mouth.
Beca watched but didn't say anything.
"Aren't you going to ask me how my date went?" Chloe asked.
"I already know how it went," Beca said, looking down at the spoon in her hand.
"You only know how you think it went," Chloe said, getting more ice cream but not adding anything more to the conversation.
Beca continued to look down. After a few minutes, her curiosity got the best of her, and she finally looked up at Chloe.
"How did your date go?"
"It sucked," Chloe said, laughing.
"I don't need to hear anymore," Beca said, moving to stand.
"Stop!" Chloe said. "And sit back down. Please?"
Beca huffed again but sat back down in her original position.
"Now, ask me why my date sucked."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously. Now ask me."
"Fine," Beca said, spooning up some ice cream. "Why, um, why did your date suck?"
"It sucked because it started out fairly well," Chloe said. "I mean my date looked hot and she helped me with my jacket and opened doors for me. And then suddenly things went a little sideways and the Beca I thought I was going out with vanished and a different Beca took her place."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I thought I was going to be with the Beca that I've wanted to ask out for so long," Chloe responded. "Instead, I ended up with someone I don't even know. The Beca I wanted to be with is the girl who came home for the past five days and made dinner or she stopped and picked up my favorite takeout to make sure I got something to eat."
Chloe leaned toward Beca and whispered, "She's really special and knows that I miss lunch a lot of the time when I'm working."
Chloe winked as she sat back. "I wanted to be with that special girl. The one who would sit and watch a movie with me even though she doesn't like them so that I didn't have to watch them alone."
Beca shifted in her seat and took more ice cream onto her spoon, swallowing it down as Chloe continued.
"I want the Beca who gets up early every morning to make hot tea to help soothe my throat," Chloe said. "The one who fills a thermos so I could have hot tea to sip on at work. That's the girl I want to date. The real Beca who is sweet and caring, not the snarky, unsure Beca that I was with tonight."
Beca took a bite of ice cream and looked at Chloe.
"That was the real Beca," Beca mumbled. "The awkward unsure girl I've always been."
Chloe frowned and shoved her spoon into the ice cream.
"Did you do something to your car to make sure it didn't start?" Chloe asked.
"No."
"Did you do something to the restaurant that made the Health Department shut it down?"
"No, how could I have?"
"Did you purposely bump into that waitress to make her spill those drinks on me?"
"No, I would never do that!"
"Then why are you so bummed about the date?" Chloe asked, searching Beca's face. "None of those things were anything you had any control over. Your attitude is why the date sucked, not what happened on it."
"I wanted to make it perfect," Beca said, looking down at the spoon in her hand.
"There's no use trying to make a date perfect," Chloe responded, picking up her spoon and taking a bit of ice cream. "There’s no such thing as a perfect date."
Beca sat for a moment, watching Chloe eat her ice cream.
"It sounds like someone was trying way too hard to impress you."
"That's what I said," Chloe said. "And it was totes unnecessary. I'm already impressed by her, that's why I said yes when she asked me out."
"She's really impressed by you, too," Beca said a small smile on her face. "And, I know for a fact that she really, really likes you. So, do you think she'll get a second date?"
"It depends."
"On?"
"On which Beca asks me," Chloe said, grinning as she scooped up another bite of ice cream.
Beca smiled and moved the ice cream to the coffee table. Chloe watched her with furrowed brows which shot up when Beca leaned toward her. Chloe let out a surprised yelp when Beca surged forward and smashed her lips to Chloe's.
Chloe took a second but starting kissing Beca back. The kiss lasted less than a minute, and when Beca pulled away, Chloe chased after Beca's lips, capturing them for another kiss. This kiss was a bit more intense and was broken when Beca chuckled against Chloe's mouth.
"There's the confident, badass Beca I was looking for," Chloe said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Does that mean you'll go out with me again?"
"That's a definite yes," Chloe said, placing both hands on Beca's cheeks and pulling her closer. "But only if you kiss me like that again."
Beca happily obliged. They broke apart when breathing became an issue.
"And don't worry, I'll plan the next date," Chloe said, causing Beca to laugh again before leaning into another kiss.
"Merry Christmas to me," Beca mumbled against Chloe's lips.
Full prompt from Tumblr User Anonymous: Beca and Chloe finally go out on a date. But like...Beca's game is sooooo bad. Like Anakin Skywalker, Attack of the Clones bad, is Beca able to land a second date, or will Chloe be like "nah"? [I have never seen Attack of the Clones so I have no idea how bad it was (is?); I went with what came to me].
Note from AnotherBechloeShipper: Okay, I've tried to come up with something for this prompt, and I can't get a single word going. So, I'm going to just put this out here in hopes that maybe another writer can pick up the prompt. I will say I think Beca would land a second date because I see Chloe forgiving missteps, but I just can't come up with anything coherent to write for it.
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godzillachloe · 3 years
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The Mix up- Merry Pitch Mas 
It wasn't unusual for Beca Mitchell to be alone. The senior spent plenty of time by herself. She enjoyed her own company, often finding it was just easier to be alone.  But there was something about being alone on Christmas that wasn't sitting right with her.
It was likely due to the redhead who was currently snuggled up next to her. After three long years, Beca and Chloe had finally crossed the line from friendship to becoming a real couple. It had better than Beca had ever imagined as the two just clicked.
Chloe had insisted that Beca watch its a wonderful life with her when she found that the smaller brunette had never seen it. But as the couple watched the film, Beca could help but feel anxious about her girlfriend going home for Christmas. The redhead head must have sensed It as she
"So, have you thought any more about coming home with me for Christmas?" Chloe asked.
"Chlo, I want to. I really do. I just feel like it's too soon," Beca said.
"Too soon? We've known each other for almost four years."
"I know, but we've only been dating for two months. And I just don't want to rush into anything."
"Fine," Chloe pouted.
"You wouldn't want to spend Christmas here with me?" Beca asked.
"Beca, you know how important Christmas is for my parents."
"I know.."
"And my they keep saying they would love to meet you."
"I know. And I love you, Chloe. I'm just not ready yet to meet your whole family. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Becs. There's no hurry."
****
Christmas Eve had been the longest day of Beca's life. The tiny brunette spent all day mopping around the empty Bellas house. She wanted to work on her mix, but all she could think about was how she had disappointed her girlfriend. Chloe's said blue eyes were burdened into her memory.
Eventually, Beca wandered over to her dad's house for dinner. There she was warmly greeted by her dad and the step-monster, Sheila, who had fixed a giant meal. Usually, it would have been great, but Beca wasn't in the family mood.
"Everything okay, Becs?" Dr. Mitchell asked after about 30 minutes of awkward silence.
"Yeah. It's just Chloe wanted me to spend Christmas with her family in Florida," Beca said, just staring at her plate. "And I said no because I felt uncomfortable."
"Well, do you love her?" Shelia asked.
"Yeah," Beca said.
"Then your going. To have to get out of your comfort zone." The older woman said in a sharp tone.
"I know. I feel terrible." Beca said.
"You know Becs. It's only a four-hour drive," Dr. Mitchell said. "And as much as we would love to have you here with us tomorrow, I think there is a bubbly redhead down in Florida who would love it more."
Beca looked over at her dad and gave him a soft smile.
"Thanks, dad."
****
After a hectic morning, Beca found herself only a few feet away from Chloe's childhood home. The senior's back was aching, and her feet were stiff after a four-hour car ride. Spending all of Christmas morning driving wasn't Beca's ideal Christmas. But if that was all it took to spend it with her soulmate, she'd take it.
Beca got out of her car and stretched. Once she got the feeling back in her legs, the smaller woman slowly made her way to the Beale front door. She rang the doorbell and was greeted by a younger redhead, who looked exactly like Beca.
"Hey, is Chloe here?" Beca asked.
"No," replied the younger woman replied.
"No?" Beca said in shock. "She said she was coming home for Christmas."
"She was, but she had to go somewhere and left," the younger redhead replied. "But you can wait here till she gets back."
Beca sheepishly wandered into the house where all the Beales greeted her.  Chloe had two younger sisters Cora and Kathy, who looked just like her. Her mom and dad also seemed like nice people. None of them were sure where exactly Chloe had gone, only that she had left at 6 in the morning.
After getting to know the family, Beca slipper out to call her girlfriend. The phone rang and rang before a familiar, overly happy voice greeted Beca.  
"Beca?" Choe asked as she answered the phone. "Chloe, where are you?" Beca asked in shock. "I'm at your parent's house. Where are you?" "I'm at your parents ' house," Beca replied. "Shit." "What happened to Christmas is really important to my family?" "It is but your important to Becs. Did you Really think that after three years, I wouldn't want to spend Christmas with my girlfriend?" "Why didn't you tell me?" "I wanted to surprise you. Why didn't you tell me?" "Same." "So. What do we do?" "Do you feel up to making the drive back?" Beca asked. "Yeah. Do you feel up to spending the day with my family?" Chloe replied. "If you can make the drive back, I can get out of my comfort zone for a few hours." "Awes. I'll see you soon." "Just drive safe." "Pitch, please." After hanging up, Beca explained the situation to Chloe's family. The tiny brunette then spent the rest of the day getting to know the Beale family. Eventually, a very tired and exhausted Chloe made it home where. She curled up into her girlfriend's arms and fell asleep.
****** Later that night, Beca and Chloe were granted some much-needed privacy in Chloe's room. "I can't believe you spent all day with y family." "I can't believe you drove to Barden and back in a single day." "Yeah, you should've seen the look on your dad's face." "Well, I'll make it up to you tomorrow." "Oh, you'll make it up to me tonight!" "Really? Beale" "Really." Chloe moved closer so that she could kiss her girlfriend.   "Chloe, I think we should stay together after college," Beca said as they broke their kiss. "Like get an apartment together." "Definitely. We should stick together."
-Fins  
Sorry if this is kinda short I ran out of time. Also I couldn’t figure out the gifts but I hope the memes make you smile :) 
For 
@bechloebeale
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the1918 · 3 years
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2020 for the1918
Am I the last person to make this list? Maybe. Do I regret that? Yes. Am I making it anyways because my cognitive behavioral therapy is teaching me fix my avoidance issues? Also Yes.
Let’s do this: @The Trees In Front of Cevans’s House and @Bucky’s Arm... you da real MVPs.
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But other than them...
Thank You to Everyone that Truly Made My 2020:
@cantabile-l  Jo (Daddy Dumpster™ Co-Founder) — I have to list you first. How could I not? Every friendship I’ve made in this fandom comes back to you. We literally bonded over porn lookalikes and started this craziness called the Stucky Porn Lookalikes Archive ( @stucky-lookalikes-archive ) to preserve the porn, and it now has now has 85k hits and 500 bookmarks (!!!?!!). But it’s more than that, even more than starting the Daddy Dumpster™ and bonding over culihos. Bespoke got finished because you got me excited enough to want it, just like half a dozen other fics. You were also the basis for many, many other friendships that I list below. Your nesting head canons were the inspiration for so, so many A/B/O moments in my fics. We’re so on the same length on an intellectual and spiritual level (I feel like you and me and @ixalit are three parts of one whole ❤) and I am in love with you for it. Culihos forever.
@hanitrash​ Hani (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) —I’m so, so damn glad you’re in my life. We share that sick sense of humor and refusal to adopt a filter. You add flavor to our Dumpster™ with your wit, and I feel so warm when you share pics and updates about the family with us. You were the first person I ran to when I “discovered” HTP and you held my hand 😂 And Jesus—your talent. I could go on and on and on about Through The Darkness I Heard Your Voice and Private Showing, but also one of my New Year’s resolutions is to start reading your work as Loralynne Summers. Thank you for making me smile every day of last year since April.
@trekchik Jini (O.G. Dumpster™ Citizen) — I can’t speak to the number of laugh-out-loud, belly-grabbing, cackling moments I have had in a year that could easily have been shit otherwise, all because of you. I feel like you’ve truly become a member of my family; like, I see you posting in the Dumpster™ when I wake up in the morning and I think to myself, “Oh, what’s the fam up to today?”. I know I’ve gone on and on about your talent (absolute queen of dialogue and pacing) before, but I don’t thank you enough for keeping the Porn Archive alive when the rest of us are slacking. Your Stucky Tumblr Drabbles (especially the meet cutes) puts a smile on half the fandom’s face regulary, and I’m excited to re-read the wonderful Anagnorsis & Peripeteia soon. Here’s to another year of weird dildo pictures.
@thegodswife Amanda (Dumpster™ Citizen) — I feel like we were literally destined to become friends. The love I feel for you and your little family is real and immense, and I feel like your victories (in life and in writing) are my victories. You have made a slow but steady convert of me to Shrinkyclinks with fics like peaches and because it's christmas, and I am in awe of your talent for writing charged dynamics with jaw-dropping moments. This fandom is lucky to have such a gem as you. 2021 is going to be the Year of Amanda (*clinks Lindeman’s Framboise glasses 🥂*)
@ixalit Max (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My relationship with you has and continues to be lifechanging for more reasons than I can even go into on tumblr. You make me laugh. You make me cry (usually in good ways). You make me horny by supplying the #porn-and-fun as the dutiful resident horny teenage boy of Dumpster™. I remember so clearly when we first messaged talking about your Evanstan thoughts and fics, and I knew your writing was special then (omg, Hiraeth?? How dare). You deserve all the success you earned in 2020 and every bit more success that you will continue to have this year. There is no one else I would rather have with me as we make this ~journey through Song of the Rolling Earth together. 
@becassine Bex (Dumpster™ Citizen) — What can I say about my lucky charm? 🍀 I found our friendship later in the year and I feel it was truly central to the way I finished out my year with a bang (lol). Your encouragement to finish Bespoke supercharged me, and I’m still riding that high in writing SoRE. But for every bit we talk about you being the Queen of Hype (Becassine, First of Her Name), I am also stunned by your own gorgeous writing. The Way I Feel For You is a gift to this fandom and it’s gonna keep rocking our world, along with any other creative endeavor you choose to embark on. Thank you for the treasure of your continued friendship.
@darter-blue​ Bec (Dumpster™ Citizen) — My gorgeous, gorgeous cunt of a friend. What ever am I going to do with you? I feel like you and I have clicked so perfectly and so instantly, and I feel such a strong connection to you. I have been enamored with your skill and your style since I first stumbled across your Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: A Love Story series and then rapidly gobbled up your other writing. Getting to collab with you on No Vacancies was a dream come true. You make me feel so connected to the outside world and humanity even in this bizarre time and even though you’re on the other side of the world.
@kalee60 Kel (Dumpster™ Citizen) — You flawless sass-master. You brilliant human. You tricky little bastard. What a perfect addition to the Dumpster™ you have been! And your talent, Jesus... just being around you makes me want to write. I have truly never seen someone with as much talent write so prolifically, and I am in very real awe of it. If I had to pick “Fic of the Year” for me, I would not hesitate to pick Push The Button—it turned my world upside down—but for as much as we talk about that epic, your AU Extravaganza is really miracle to behold. And I am so, so pumped for you during this exciting time coming up in your life. Here’s to magnificent year for you in 2021!
@andysmountains​ Andy Gator Lord 🐊 — You’ve changed my life. I’m sitting here and I honestly don’t know how else to put it. You’re hilarious and you’re a ball of sunshine and you have kept this breeder feeling rooted to reality (in a great way) and remembering how to smile during some of the shittiest times I can remember. Newts. You’ve helped me explore my identity, and I’m not sure what greater gift you could have given me. Also, I’ve never heard true love whispered more sincerely than when I see 🔪—and I would give you nine hundred and ninety-seven 🔪 now if not for the fact that you have literally beat me to it.  
@ceratonia-siliqua Cera — We’ve shared so much. I feel so privileged that you’ve picked me to be a person that you want to talk to during hard times because you’re such a special guy, and because you’ve got talent that the world needs to see forever and ever and ever (I continue to blown away by what you did in Sunshine, and none of us are ready for Quilt Fic™) and I hope you never stop writing your whole damn heart out. I truly love you. I do. Thank you for reminding me that there is endless humanity and prose in this world.
@howdoyousleep3​ K — I feel like 2021 couldn’t be starting off better now that you’re in my life again. Last year was largely defined for me by the time I spent with you, and I’ve truly been changed by you and your writing. You are an endless amount of inspiration for me and this whole community; I would bet real money that the number of Daddy Kink converts that owe their new *interest* to finding your Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes series numbers in the hundreds (not to mention your other AUs). But fics aside, I had so many smiles and laughter throughout 2020 because of you, and I owe such a big part of my happy heart to you and your presence in my life. You have a huge, caring heart. Cheers to Cevans continuing to be a giant, bro-ish man slut and us never stopping giving him shit for it — and here’s to Trucker Bucky and his bug.
@lullabybeauty Bee — I’m not sure I would still be writing if it weren’t for you. The interest you took in my fics and endless support you’ve provided have turned me into a real-life 🥺🥺🥺 face so many times I can’t count them. But more than the hype you provide, you are an amazing person, and I hope you never stop putting (and ceaselessly keeping) the word out in our community through your blog that Black Lives Matter and black women matter now and forever; it’s far too easy for those of us who are white to let that truth fade from our minds when there’s not something terrible happening in the news, and I’m so thankful for your posts filling up my dash with reminders I need to be a good ally and giving me information to share with others. Thank you for the gift of yourself.
@ywecanthavenicethingsanymore Caroline—You sort of swooped out of nowhere for me and boosted my confidence through the roof. Your comments and your hype and your hilarious tags remind me every day that writers are only half of the fanfiction equation; all we do without supportive friends like you is sit in the corner dreaming of stories we don’t have the confidence or feel-good to put to words. Thank you for your constant support and for being so. damn. cool.
@littlesurfergrl Heather—Oh, Heather. Queen of the A+ tags. Sender of inbox updates about what time you get off of work and why you’re vibrating to read a fic. All-around beautiful person. Your love and support is magic in my veins.
@hoeforthegays Baby J—I am so damn excited for this creative project you’ve taken on; you are so talented. I look forward to our thirst talks all the time. You make me laugh with your screaming and even your advice. Such a source of sunshine in my life.
@capbvckyrogers / @tae-withsuga Cam — You were the first person who ever reblogged a farmer daddy post. You were the first person who ever sent me a prompt. Honestly, you were the first person who ever bonded with me over a character. There zero (0) chance I would have enjoyed fandom (or certainly any kind of creative success) the way that I did in 2020 if not for you. Thank you, endlessly. 
@justice-for-plums​ Kenz — Another “late in the year” friendship find that I am so grateful for. I love our talks! I am so thankful you felt comfortable to reach out and talk about writing. Our workshopping has helped remind me of what works and what doesn’t for me, and I love the creative collaboration on head canons! Excited for more in 2021.
Shrunkyclunks Bitches®, or those not mentioned already above: @dreadlockholiday (co-founder of the Bitches® with @justice-for-plums​ and #1 reason I blushed last year), @oh-i-swear-writes​ @wayward-lives​ @allegedlyann and others I either am missing on tumblr or forgetting (but not because I don’t love you) — Here’s to Cap Steve and modern Bucky and 1,000,000+ words written during our writing sprints in 2021. [Bitches® server membership is open by the way! If you love Shrunkyclunks, contact Dready @dreadlockholiday​].
And to the endless list of others who made me smile, laugh, sometimes cry, feel proud, but always feel that incredible Stucky love — a list that includes but is certainly not limited to @fishcustardandclintbarton,​ @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier, @willbakewithstucky, @hannah-stagram​, @thewaythatwerust​, @bigbraiiin, @musette22, @luninosity​, @fandomfluffandfuck​, @maddiewritesstucky​, @hbalbat, @doctorenterprise​, @epicstuckyficrecs, @k347 and the massive important people I know I am forgetting (...like some BIG ones)
To everyone above and anyone else who has scrolled this far:
Thank you.
Let’s all have a fantastic 2021 🥂
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