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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children…

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still!

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip!

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment.

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent.

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating...

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident…

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

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The Devil Looks After His Own (Ch.1)

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV--but luckily, it doesn't work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later. Years later, they're best friends, and Steve still doesn't know the truth. For @magniloquent-raven!

When his dad finally locked him out of the office, Steve spent the morning sitting in the hallway playing with his Legos. When his stomach growled, he knocked quietly, and his dad’s voice on the phone continued, so he went in the kitchen to forage. He found Cheez-its, and olives, and a tightly wrapped triangle of gooey cheese that tasted good in the middle, but had gross, chalky skin, so he licked the middle out and stuffed the rest down the side of the garbage.

He walked back into the front room and flipped the TV on, just to make some noise. “In the future,” came the syrupy voice of the man on the screen, “—we’ll have robots to be our helper-friends!” He chuckled to himself, leaning back in his leather chair, and folding his arms on his huge wooden desk. “But that doesn’t work for us now, I hear you say.”

The camera zoomed out, and he waved to a woman with curly hair and long fangs, sitting on the edge of his desk. She was wearing way less clothes than the man was, and Steve frowned, wondering whether she was cold. “Our summoning spells are assembled by real lawyers, and airtight!” the man said, and the woman nodded, smiling, and holding up a picture with a lot of numbers and lines. Steve squinted at it guiltily—he’d seen the man’s ads before, and he mostly remembered the picture, probably.

The helper-friend lady looked nice, he thought.

“Too good to be true? We even include offerings! Bat eyes, tears of the innocent—” he said, smiling and holding up jars, as ‘ethically sourced from internment facilities’ scrolled across the screen.

Steve frowned around, and then grabbed his LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, the most complex set he owned.

“Honey,” the man told the woman on screen, and she opened a can of soda, and poured it over her own head, still smiling. “Perfectly compliant,” he said. “And just wait, there’s more! Any purchase comes with a matching, complimentary summoning sigil for a protective home guardian! Just drip a drop of fluid—” he winked at the camera, and it showed something red splashing across the page, as his voice suddenly screamed “Augh-no! Don’t—”

Steve had already grabbed the remote and hit the fifteen-second replay, and began drawing out the picture. He hit it again and again, coloring in different colors, and wishing people in commercials didn’t always yell. He drew the circle carefully with a piece of thread from the long fringe on a throw-blanket he wasn’t allowed to mess up, then folded it carefully again, grimacing. He colored in the crosses with a different color so it looked nicer, and drew the little castle wall-looking-bit. He added a horse.

When it came time to drip fluid on it, he clicked the TV off, and got a juice box from the fridge, figuring apple juice was way less gross than blood, and it wouldn’t ruin his picture.

Steve stared at the picture, holding the juice box, and thinking. He imagined not eating alone. He imagined the nice lady smiling at his Legos—maybe she’d like the castle set, he thought, like in her picture. He’d just summon her for a little, he thought—just a few minutes, enough to make them both a PB&J.

His stomach growled—again—and he frowned at his dad’s office door, sighed, plonked the Camaro in the middle of the picture, and squeezed the juice box to spray over it all.

Nothing happened. Steve stared at the picture for a long moment, his eyes welling up with tears, and then kicked the couch. It felt like his foot broke from the impact, and he spun around in a circle, muttering a lot of words he wasn’t allowed to say in the house. He hopped into the kitchen, sniffling, and got out the peanut butter, jam, and a spoon—but instead of getting the bread, he sat on the floor in front of the sink.

He felt a sinking sensation of guilt as he stuck the spoon right into first the jam, and then the peanut butter, sticking the whole spoonful straight in his mouth and licking it off. Once he’d licked the spoon, he stuck it back in the jar, his heart pounding. The peanut butter was crunchy and salty, and the strawberry jam was stickily sweet. He wondered whether his mom would check the bread and know, and cried harder as he chewed, hugging his knees.

The floor in the front room creaked, and he startled so hard the spoon jabbed hard between his upper molars. He scrambled to his feet, fumbling the lids back on the jam and the peanut butter and shoving them under the sink, his heart thudding in his chest, but nobody came in.

The couch squeaked softly, and Steve edged to the doorway, the big spoon hanging forgotten from his mouth, to see a tall man with horns and no clothes at all lying across the couch, right up against the forbidden throw blanket. He raised his eyebrows—they had shiny jewelry in them—and breathed out smoke, indoors, as he looked up at Steve.

He then yelped and scrambled to fall with a thud over the back of the couch. “The fff—what are you doing here, kid,” came his voice, from behind the couch. “Where the—where on earth are your parents?!”

“Unhm,” said Steve, who hadn’t ever seen a man wear so much jewelry before, and wondered how much it hurt to have jewelry in your dick. He took the spoon out of his mouth. “Uh. Dad—dad is—in there,” he pointed vaguely toward his dad’s office, his eyes still fixed on the horns sticking up past the back of the couch. “Do...do you want me to...get him?”

The naked man popped up behind the couch again, looking kind of mad, and Steve stepped further back, watching the golden chains and jewels glint in the light from the window. “...you look very pretty,” Steve said politely, and the man groaned, grabbing the blanket as he stood, and wrapping it around his waist like a towel.

“Why the—why are you here,” he hissed, and Steve swallowed.

“I’ll go in my room,” he tried to say, but it came out kind of a weird whisper, and he realized he was starting to cry again, so he turned away, and the man scrambled from behind the couch.

“Wait! Kid,” he said, and Steve stopped to see him step and spin kind of gracefully around the glass coffee table without catching the blanket on it. All his nails were pointed, and painted black. “I’m sorry—” he cut off, staring down at Steve’s picture, and the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“...what’s this,” he asked, like maybe he was mad again, and Steve wondered, suddenly, whether his mom had forgotten to lock the door, and the man was a naked burglar, looking for clothes to steal.

“I wanted to meet the TV lady,” Steve admitted, trying to take it, but the man snatched it up. “Um, are you—are you a burglar?”

“Am I—” the man glared at him—his eyes looked like fire, weirdly, the blue fire on the stove—but he didn’t look mad at Steve, yet, so Steve just bit his lips together. “...you drew this?” the horny man asked, more quietly, and Steve nodded. “Why?” he asked, and Steve knew he was in trouble—even if the man wasn’t supposed to be there, grownups always told each other when Steve did something dumb, like steal the TV man’s picture, which was the point Steve realized he was a stealer, a thief, like on TV. America’s Most Wanted, he thought, his heart pounding.

“Why draw this?” the man asked softly, crouching down, and Steve sniffled again, wiping his eyes.

“He said a friend would come,” he admitted, wondering whether kids had their own jail, or whether he’d be in the one with all the guys from movies, who chased teenagers with chainsaws and knives.

“You wanted a friend?” the man asked, but even softer, and Steve nodded, clenching his fingers in the sides of his pants.

“I didn’t mean to steal it,” he whispered. “I won’t do it again.”

“...okay,” the man said. “Don’t—don’t cry, it’s okay, are—are you okay?” he held his hands up like he was gonna touch Steve’s shoulders, then crossed his arms, frowning.

“I’m okay,” Steve nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “...are, um,” he asked, cautiously, “—are you supposed to be...in here?”

“Uhhh,” said the man. “Definitely not naked, right?” he laughed, kinda nervously, Steve thought, and he snapped his fingers. The throw blanket turned into shiny fringed pants.

“Ohhh,” Steve whispered, impressed. “How’d you do that?”

“Oh,” the man said, grimacing. “Um, let’s talk about you summoning demons, okay?”

“...okay,” Steve nodded, sighing, but then a thought occurred to him. “Uh, do you want a PB&J?”

As they ate, the man spread Steve’s picture on the table, with the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“So this is a circle to summon the demon Belial,” he said, low but kind of intense, like Steve was in trouble, but mostly he looked sort of worried.

Steve swallowed his bite of sandwich. “...it’s not exactly the same,” he pointed out, a little sulkily. “I added a horse.”

“...so you did,” said the man, turning it to look. “...look, summoning demons is very dangerous—”

“My dad says there aren’t bad demon summoners,” Steve told him. “He says there are bad plumbers, and bad strippers, but if you’re talking to somebody, and they summoned a demon, they must be good at it, because you’re talking to them, and—and he was on TV—”

“Strippers,” said the man weakly, and Steve realized he was being rude to his guest.

“I’m Steve,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“...Bel,” said the man, then, hurriedly, “Bill?”

“My mom likes Billy Idol. And Billy Joel,” Steve suggested, and the man nodded.

“That’s a normal name that I definitely have,” he nodded, grimacing, “—Billy, I’m Billy.”

Steve considered this.

“Are you listening, though? About demon-summoning? Even a lot of adults have a hard time with it—” Billy started again, holding Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 to his chest like it was a present for him.

“The guy on TV said it was for a helper friend,” Steve told him, feeling a little guilty, but really not too much, since it hadn’t even worked.

“Steve,” Billy said, pressing his hands together over his mouth. The chain hooking his earring to the ring in his lip swayed and made a bell sound, and Steve stared at it, then remembered to nod. “Okay,” Billy said. “Could you promise me you won’t try to summon any more demons?”

“My dad says—” Steve started, again, but he cut off guiltily as Billy slumped back in his chair, groaning.

“Look,” Billy tried again, rubbing his face. “Summoning demons isn’t like inviting somebody over, okay? They have to come. Now imagine if someone called you up to—” he frowned down at himself, biting his lips with pointed teeth, and cleared his throat. “Uh,” he said, swallowing, and snapped his fingers with both hands—and all the jewelry vanished. Even his cool horns were gone, Steve realized, and he had clothes on, a little tiny black shirt that showed his belly button, and shiny plastic-y silver pants.

It was disappointing, but Steve looked into Billy’s flameless eyes and blunt-toothed smile and politely said “...you still look nice...I guess.” Billy snorted a laugh. “...I’ve never seen pants like that,” Steve offered, and Billy frowned down.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, then shook his head. “No, wait. Okay. What if you don’t want to go somewhere—”

“People make me go places all the time,” Steve said darkly, remembering the week before, when his mom had drug him in for a haircut that made him look like G.I. Joe. He rubbed his still-fuzzy head, glowering.

“Uh,” Billy said, trying not to smile, but spinning the tires on the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve was a little proud that he liked it so much. “Okay, a stranger. What if a stranger makes you go somewhere you don’t want to go?”

“That’s kidnapping,” Steve said, breathlessly, his eyes huge, and Billy pointed the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 at him.

“Yes. When you summon a demon, you’re kidnapping them, okay? And they can’t leave unless you let them go.”

“But the man on the TV said—” Steve whispered, then stopped, remembering how he’d made the almost-naked woman pour soda on her own head. Steve covered his mouth, suddenly realizing she might not have wanted to be almost-naked, maybe the man had taken her clothes off, like Steve with a doll. “Oh no,” he whispered. “I’m so glad it didn’t work!”

“Ah, yeeeah,” Billy said, grimacing.

“Um,” said Steve, reaching a hand over to retrieve his prize LEGO kit, and Billy snatched it back. Steve narrowed his eyes. “You were looking for my parents, but my dad didn’t say you were coming over, are you my mom’s friend?”

Billy winced, grimacing. “Where is she?”

“She’s at work,” Steve told him. “Daycare is too expensive, so over the summer I have to be good.”

“Wait, are there any grownups here?!” Billy asked, looking horrified, and Steve nodded, pointing down the hall again.

“My dad. He locks the door.”

“...What if you drown in the bathtub, or try to eat your own fingers, or something,” Billy breathed, and Steve glared at him.

“I’m not little,” he hissed, sliding forward in his chair a little, so his toes reached the floor. “I’m not a baby.”

“You don’t need a friend, you need a nanny,” said the recently smoking, horned, pierced and tattooed man before him. “And that’s, uh, that’s why your mom sent me.”

“...did she really send you?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes, and Billy crossed his arms on the table, hugging Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 against his chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, she did,” he said defiantly, and Steve relaxed a little, because Billy sounded like a teenager, just a bigger kid, really. “She said to put less peanut butter and jelly in your sandwiches,” he pointed to Steve’s overflowing PB&J-bread-burrito, looking smug, “—and just make another sandwich.”

Steve gasped, staring at him, and feeling absolutely betrayed. “You tricked me! Why’d you let me make it!”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell,” Billy said, and Steve’s heart was won.

Billy won it further when he scooted his plate aside to admire the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve drug him back to his room to show him the kits he had. “Come on,” he said, excited and rude, and Billy slowed way down, grimacing, and flickering back to his pretty bejeweled self, with horns.

“How about you ask if I wanna do things,” he said stiffly, slowing almost to a stop, and smoking more around the eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve nodded. “Sorry. Can I show you my room?”

“Or maybe, ‘Hey, Billy, want to see my room,’” Billy suggested, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Want to see my room?”

“Sure,” Billy nodded, relaxing like it was some big relief.

It occurred to Steve maybe it was. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I’ll be polite, I won’t get you fired.”

“Um, yeah,” Billy laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe don’t, uh, order me around.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, thinking hard about it, so he’d remember. “I won’t say ‘Billy, pick me upOOF—” he wheezed, as Billy yanked him into the air with one arm around his waist. “Sorry,” Steve wheezed, his feet kicking. “I-I’ll say Billy would you, sorry—”

“Shit! Damn it, I mean, uh, sorry,” Billy said, grimacing, and sat Steve back on his feet, straightening his clothes.

“I’ll remember,” Steve told him, wide-eyed, and then, because Billy looked guilty, “It’s okay.”

He tried hard to remember, and he usually did, because Billy got all tense and weird if Steve forgot, like he was trying to move underwater, and Steve had to yell “If you want! If you want!” as Billy grimly bit into the crunchy, burned eggs Steve had made.

“That was disgusting,” Billy told him, that time, and Steve couldn’t stop laughing, waving his hands.

“Okay, okay, can I—can I just tell you you can ignore me? I won’t tell, you can just—just do things if you want to—”

“...you sure about that?” Billy asked, snorting softly, like Steve might be kidding, and Steve nodded frantically.

“Yeah! Yes! Don’t, um, don’t eat any more eggshells, I’m sorry!”

“...okay,” Billy said, smiling down at him. “When am I not supposed to listen?”

“Uh,” said Steve, blinking at him. “I mean. You should—you should always listen—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“No, you should!” Steve told him, grabbing Billy’s hand and tugging it. “What if something’s gonna hit you in the head? You should listen,” he nodded, thinking about it. “But once you listen, you should decide what you want to do.”

“What if I wanted to...eat you?” Billy asked him, reaching down to tickle Steve’s stomach, and Steve yelped, giggling.

“You won’t eat me,” Steve told him, leaning into Billy, to give him a hug. “You’re nice.”

Billy sighed, and hugged him back, tightly.

Billy was better at some things than other people, like clothes, Steve thought, because Billy was always pointing people’s outfits out, and explaining how they weren’t as good at picking them. He wasn’t as good at other things, though. Steve sat down one night to heated-up pasta sauce over Cheerios, and he didn’t want to say anything, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t right. Billy gave Steve’s mom a glass of water that was completely frozen because she said she wanted it iced, and when Steve’s dad told Billy to make burgers, Billy didn’t buy buns, or tomatoes, or anything, and he threw the meat in the pan until it caught fire.

Steve was pretty sure none of it was a joke, because Billy frowned between the glass and Steve’s mom, and grimaced over the burgers after Steve’s dad stomped away, and Steve caught him whispering into the phone to the neighbor, hiding half in the fridge like nobody was gonna notice it was open.

“Billy,” he whispered, and Billy jumped, as Steve crouched down next to him. The breeze from the inside of the fridge was nice, but it hardened all Steve’s suspicions, because no grown-up had ever left the fridge open, he was pretty sure.

“Yeah,” Billy muttered back, guiltily.

“...how old’re you,” Steve asked, and Billy flinched.

“Older than you,” he shot back, and that Steve was willing to give him, because Billy wasn’t human, and some things lived different amounts of time, like trees.

“Are you a kid too?” Steve asked, and Billy glared at him.

“No,” he said defiantly, and Steve nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows, until Billy groaned, deflating, sitting against the edge of the fridge and letting his legs sprawl out across the floor. “Look, I’m trying—”

“I won’t tell,” Steve said, reaching out and squeezing Billy’s hand. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“...teenager...maybe,” Billy admitted, grimacing.

“Okay,” Steve said, nodding. “Billy,” he said, trying to sound like a parent, or a teacher, and Billy’s shoulders hunched. “You need to tell me you need help,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “I can help with things like human food.”

“You are human food,” Billy said, fondly, yanking Steve into a hug.

Most of the people that did magic like Billy ate kids occasionally, Steve found out, as he was reading his Dictionary of the Magic Realms that night under the covers, by flashlight. Maybe they were mean kids, Steve thought, or maybe Billy was just way nicer. “Are you a fairy?” he asked the next morning, and Billy laughed.

“Depends on what you mean,” he said, grinning over. “Is that slang for—”

“Can you fly,” Steve interrupted, because that seemed the most important, and Billy cocked his head.

“...actually, I probably could,” he said, considering. “Not like you mean, though. I don’t have secret butterfly wings, or anything.”

“Oh,” Steve said, because he'd been privately imagining Billy as they’d first met, with the jewelry and the horns and wings, and it seemed to fit.

“...do you want me to have wings?” Billy asked, sitting aside the dish he was drying, and bending down sideways to try and meet Steve’s eyes. “I can change form—”

“No!” Steve told him, waving his hands. “No, I know you like looking like...that.”

“...that,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at himself. “You saying I need to do better?”

“You’re just—normal,” Steve said quickly. “Instead of pretty.”

“Instead of,” Billy growled.

“I mean,” Steve yelped, waving his hands. “Pretty with all the jewelry! And the horns.”

“I was gonna say,” Billy said, reddening. “If you’re saying I’m not pretty—”

“Of course you’re pretty,” Steve said, rolling his eyes and sighing, but grinning, too. He patted Billy’s shoulder.

“Well,” Billy said, clearing his throat, and turning back to the dishes. “All right, then.”

A few days later, Billy was moving the kettle off the flame for hot chocolate, and a big gout of steam belched up over his arm, which shimmered into all over scales. Steve yelped and grabbed him, yanking him over to the sink, and ran water over it, all the while panicking.

“Billy, are you a mermaid?!” he asked, spraying Billy’s arm, and trying not to cry. “Are you a mermaid, are you okay, are hot things bad for mermaids—”

“I’m okay,” Billy told him, turning off the water, and hugging him close. “I’m not a mermaid, Stevie, I’m not hurt.”

“O-okay,” Steve gasped, grabbing Billy’s arm to run his fingers over it. “You—you’re okay,” he whispered, leaning into Billy’s hugs. “...are you a...lizard? Or a snake?”

“Nope, not exactly,” Billy said, snorting a laugh, and Steve groaned.

The rest of my Harringrove works

#Harringrove #Demon!Billy #Summoner!Steve #Unintentionally??#Kind of?!#BFFs #Kid!fic #Comedy

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lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

Note

merlin and gwaine, (romantic relationship) Hug with a kiss/ Lifting-off-the-ground hug

@bionic-staring-machine thank you for sending in a prompt!! 💕(and i'm going to try not to say that word too many times in this post this time...)

this is set in 4×06 because we ignore canon in this household, seeing as we were robbed of a merwaine reunion scene even though gwaine had literally been praising merlin moments before they found him

(some creative licence used with the fomorroh kicking in)

hope you enjoy it and i will gladly take more prompts from people!!

again, under the cut because i cannot keep things concise:

The ride back to Camelot was more of a trial than training had ever been. Gwaine could feel Merlin pressed against him for the whole journey, relishing the arms encircling his body – even if they were caked in mud – and the soft breath bumping clumsily against the back of his neck. He wanted nothing more than to hold him close, even if they were currently pressed against one another, and let the overpowering taste of cinnamon that clung to Merlin’s pores numb his tongue. Of course, at that moment, it was mud that would be the overpowering taste, and Gwaine had to remind himself of that fact each time the urge to turn around and kiss Merlin overwhelmed him.

They finally trotted into the courtyard and Gwaine dismounted first, his hands reaching up to slot beneath Merlin’s armpits. Although Merlin seemed fine, he was still wary of applying too much pressure to the tender area where Merlin had been wounded. As he absorbed Merlin’s weight, Gwaine rooted his feet more firmly into the ground, lowering the servant carefully and quietly enquiring after his welfare with his eyes. Receiving a gentle smile in return, Gwaine ducked his head slightly and turned to Arthur, one hand still hooked around Merlin’s arm.

‘I’m just going to help get Merlin cleaned up.’

There was a slight smirk playing on Arthur’s mouth as his eyes darted between the two of them. ‘Of course.’ He approached Merlin and ruffled his muddy hair. ‘It’s good to have you back, Merlin.’

With one final smile, he jumped up the steps and disappeared into the castle. As the horses were taken back to the stables, Gwaine turned to look at Merlin again. He had spoken at all on the ride back, mentioned nothing about the situation he had been in, but Gwaine couldn’t blame him. He was probably still in a state of shock and unprepared to discuss his ordeal just yet. Gwaine’s thumb found shelter beneath Merlin’s jaw and gently stroked away a thin layer of mud. There would be time for Merlin to talk, more than enough time, and Gwaine would be there, waiting, when he was ready.

‘Come on, my bog man, let’s get you cleaned up.’

There was a tight nod and Merlin leaned into Gwaine, hand reaching down for the knight’s. Settling his gaze in front of him so as to better navigate their way to his chambers, Gwaine gently tugged Merlin alongside him, careful to keep the pace slow and prevent Merlin from stumbling. When they approached Gwaine’s chambers, his servant, Tom, was on the verge of passing by. Gwaine caught his shoulder lightly with his hand, murmured in his ear about the possibility of fetching a bathtub, and slipped through his own door, Merlin in tow.

Merlin still wasn’t saying anything and, when Gwaine glanced at him after stripping off his cloak and chainmail, seemed to be flinching sporadically at nothing tangible. Eyebrows drawing together, Gwaine squatted down in front of the bed, teasing Merlin’s gaze towards him as his fingers clasped his face.

‘Hey. It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.’

Gwaine was still desperately holding his gaze as Tom entered with a bathtub and second servant carrying hot water. Fingers still framing Merlin’s face, Gwaine tore his eyes away to thank them and waved away offers to help him. He didn’t want to overwhelm Merlin with too many faces, not after he presumably encountered numerous ones when in the clutches of the mercenaries.

Once the door had closed, Gwaine moved across the room to lock it and poured the water into the tub, pushing up the sleeves of his gambeson and loosening the knot of the string around his wrist to tie back his hair. ‘Merlin,’ he softly said, returning to the servant. ‘Is it alright if I undress you?’

Merlin blinked once, twice, and the smallest of smiles crept onto his mouth. ‘You don’t have to treat me like I’m about to break, Gwaine, it’s okay. I’m okay.’

There was a strange lilt to his voice that pierced the odd word and Gwaine fought down the curiosity rising within him. He had no idea what exactly Merlin had been through, and a change in tone could be a completely understandable consequence. It sounded as if he was trying to force the words out, as if they were caught in some sort of trap and were struggling to worm their way through the holes in the net. Instead of asking, Gwaine elected for an indicator of reassurance, placing one hand on Merlin’s cheek as he eased the knot in the neckerchief with the other.

At Gwaine’s touch, Merlin closed his eyes, back remaining taut as the knight peeled off the jacket and gingerly pulled Merlin’s shirt over his head, tossing it to one side on the floor. Gwaine hesitated. The remnants of the wound were still hauntingly apparent on Merlin’s chest as he reached out, fingers barely making contact with the mutilated skin for fear of aggravating it. There were no signs of infection and the blood that Gwaine would have expected for such a wound was absent. A delicate crease formed beneath Gwaine’s lower lip but he decided he’d wonder about why mercenaries would patch Merlin up later. His hand travelled further down the servant’s body and Merlin was undressed by the muscle memory in Gwaine’s fingers before he uncertainly clambered into the water.

The mud ran like veins of blood when Gwaine ran his wet hand along the cocoon it had formed around Merlin’s body. He was careful to avoid the wound, along with the constant chastisement that he should have been paying more attention to Merlin, and Merlin leaned back against the side, focusing on the movement of Gwaine’s fingers. As the touch migrated to Merlin’s hair, he closed his eyes and tilted his head further back. Gwaine worked his way through the matted thatch on top of Merlin’s head slowly, rubbing the strands between his fingertips and giving in to the urge that had been plaguing him since he had set eyes on Merlin again. His mouth found Merlin’s temple and he withdrew as he felt the muscles in Merlin’s cheeks twist into a smile.

Gradually, Merlin’s hair returned to its natural hue and Gwaine seized a cloth to chase away the last splashes of mud hiding behind his ears. Gaze dropping, the knight frowned at what appeared to be a long bruise stretched across the back of Merlin’s neck. His fingers dusted over it and Merlin violently lurched forward, sending water splashing over the sides of the tub.

Head lowered, Merlin took a sharp breath and opened his eyes, looking anxiously towards Gwaine. ‘Sorry.’

Gwaine shook his head, wiping his hands on the cloth. ‘I’m the one who needs to apologise. I should have realised it would be so tender, being so fresh.’

Merlin’s hand jumped to the back of his neck, water dripping like spring dew from his fingers. ‘What is it?’

‘A bruise, by the looks of it,’ Gwaine said, standing to retrieve a towel. ‘And a painful one at that; it’s slightly raised.’

Making contact with it, Merlin pressed down on the affected area and resisted the urge to throw up. He could have sworn that the skin beneath his fingers had moved. ‘Weird. I don’t remember getting it.’

Gwaine spared him a smile. ‘That’s not surprising. How many times do you wake up with your legs covered in bruises?’

‘That’s because you kick me during the night!’

‘Yeah, but you don’t remember getting them, do you?’ Gwaine replied, holding out the towel. The mild nausea in his stomach had subsided now that Merlin’s voice wasn’t sounding so strange. His smile faded slightly. ‘Though it was concealed by your neckerchief. It may have been that they thought the best way to transport you was by that, and it’s left a mark.’

Merlin stepped out of the bath and wrapped the towel around his waist, fingering the wound on his chest. There were words just waiting to pour out of him, but it was as if they were being held back by the anticipation of waiting for a signal before an attack. He chose to smile at Gwaine and tried not to worry too much about the slight tinge of concern that lurked in his eyes. It was only natural that it was there, after all. Merlin had disappeared off the face of the earth and had come back beaten and bruised. Of course Gwaine was going to be concerned about him.

As an attempt at reassurance, Merlin took several steps towards the knight and put his arms around his neck. ‘I’m okay, you know,’ he quietly said, the short four words drawing all the strength he had from him.

Despite it being the tone that he’d used time and time again with Gwaine, it felt unnatural on his tongue. Merlin pushed it aside. He was tired, that was all. He still loved Gwaine.

The knight wrapped his arms around Merlin, settling against the right side of the servant’s body and burying his face in his shoulder. ‘You scared me, you know that? I couldn’t sleep at all. Not by myself. Not when I knew you could be out there somewhere, dying.’

Merlin’s hand reached up to cradle the back of Gwaine’s head. A strange sensation was washing over him, filling his limbs with a numbness that he forced them to bitterly push through because his heart was telling him to cling to Gwaine, even if his head was beginning to grow impatient and was hissing ideas of pulling away and fleeing to Arthur. ‘I know,’ he heavily said. ‘I know.’

He did pull away, then, his hands catching Gwaine’s arms as he teased away the knight’s face from his shoulder with his mouth. As Gwaine felt Merlin’s lips kissing away the tears that had threatened to fall onto his chest, he snatched at them with his own mouth, savouring the taste that was like rain on the ground. His arms were still tightly wrapped around Merlin, as if his body was afraid that Merlin would disappear without a trace once again, fingers fumbling across the masterpiece that was Merlin’s frame. Merlin’s body was the only map that Gwaine could ever recall from memory and his grip found the hidden coves that remained a secret to the rest of the world.

Knowing that it probably wasn’t wise to do it when Merlin was in such a delicate condition, despite all the servant’s assurances, but too weak to fight yet another urge, Gwaine gradually lifted Merlin off the ground, twisting one leg between the servant’s.

Merlin, ignoring the distant screams in his head of being off-track, pushed out a laugh once he had recovered from the initial shock. ‘You’re going to injure yourself, Gwaine.’

‘You give your muscles more credit than is due, Merlin,’ Gwaine grunted, electing to carry Merlin over to the bed.

Merlin’s muscles, however, won that particular battle with the aid of gravity and Merlin fell backwards onto the bed, barely missing the circle of mud left by him earlier. Gwaine rolled to the side and moved to detach his arms when Merlin pressed himself against the knight’s chest. It wasn’t often that he was able to lie in Gwaine’s arms, and to say that he was irritated at the growing sense of restlessness in his legs and mind would be an understatement. He allowed himself to bask in the warmth of Gwaine’s body for several moments more, trying to tether himself to the gentle pulse throbbing through them both, and kissed Gwaine’s mouth once more before disentangling himself and finding the spare clothes he kept in the wardrobe.

When Merlin had quietly exited, Gwaine clung to the shadow of his body against his own, rather than the heavy tone or anxious alertness that had encircled Merlin’s eyes. Merlin was home, and that was all that mattered. With a sigh, Gwaine hauled himself into a sitting position. Perhaps it was a good opportunity to strengthen his muscles. If he had it his way, Merlin would be receiving a number of hugs over the next few days, and Gwaine did not want to face humiliation in front of other people at being unable to lift Merlin up and sustain the position.

#thanks again for the prompt!!!#merlin #gwaine #merwaine #bbc merlin #hug prompts #caring gwaine #hurt merlin #fomorroh merlin #4×06 #a servant of two masters #ponytail gwaine #lit writes

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Wondrous Creature (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Brooke and Vanessa are roommates crushing on each other, both with no idea that the other likes them back, or that the other isn’t human.

A/N: I am officially in the spooky mood and finished this to celebrate it! This is loosely based on the web comic “Fangs” by Sarah C. Andersen. This is pretty weird and chaotic, so apologies in advance. I would love any feedback or comments if you have any, though! Writ is the best beta and brainstorming partner and I love them. Title from Monster by Florence + the Machine.

read on ao3

“Brooke!” Vanessa sighs in relief when her roommate shuffles in, tossing her purse on the kitchen table, shoulders dropping after her overnight shift.

“What?” Brooke asks around a yawn.

“Have you seen my black boots?” Vanessa’s been sliding around the apartment in her pizza socks, toothbrush dangling from her mouth, because her boots are not in her closet where she’s fairly sure she left them. But if anyone will know where they are, it’s Brooke. She could find anything from boots to keys like a bloodhound.

Brooke’s eyebrows wrinkle as she thinks. “Did you check under your bed?”

“Oh!” Toothpaste flies out of her mouth and splats on the floor, and Brooke rolls her eyes fondly before wiping it.

“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you,” Brooke mutters.

“I know!” Vanessa runs to her room and peeks under her bed. There, past Riley’s elephant chew toy and her old knee brace and a bag of chips, are her black boots.

Vanessa happily puts them on, and Brooke snorts behind her.

“You could make a game out of finding stuff under your bed,” Brooke teases. “Two points for clothes, three points for food.”

“Five points if the food is still edible.”

“Vanessa, don’t you dare eat those chips–”

Vanessa removes her toothbrush and crunches as loud as she can, making eye contact with Brooke all the while. Even with the lingering minty taste, the chips are still good. But even if they weren’t, she still wouldn’t be harmed, for reasons Brooke doesn’t–and can’t–know.

“Okay, how about you brush your teeth for real, in the bathroom?” Brooke suggests, and Vanessa nods.

They stand side-by-side in front of the sink, because Brooke brushes her teeth after work every morning for some reason. Vanessa doesn’t mind. It’s nice having the bathroom to herself for most of the morning, not having to fight for shower times or counter space. This little routine is enough, and Vanessa likes the rhythm they sink into, the way Brooke sways along to Vanessa’s Get-Ready Spotify playlist, the way Brooke grins at her in the mirror. Today, the grin is wider than normal, and Vanessa’s grip slips, toothbrush swiping across her cheek and sending Brooke into a fit of laughter.

They spit in the sink, and Vanessa sees drops of bright red clinging to the porcelain.

“You’re bleeding,” Vanessa says.

“I am?” Brooke shrugs. “Must’ve brushed too hard.” She rinses the sink, tells Vanessa to have a good day, and collapses into bed, the frame squeaking under her weight. She’ll get a few hours of sleep, Vanessa knows, before waking up and writing. She does fashion and news pieces for some media site—she told Vanessa it’s like a low-budget Buzzfeed—and her stuff’s pretty good, from what Vanessa’s looked up on nights she was bored, desperate to have more of Brooke through words on her phone screen. Brooke likes her job, even if she has to work overnight grocery store shifts to keep herself afloat. Vanessa thinks of Brooke curled up in bed and wishes she could help her sleep more, get rid of those gray circles constantly under her eyes.

But Vanessa will be late soon, and she grabs her travel coffee mug and heads to work, thinking too much about Brooke’s smile and the blood in the sink.

Maybe she isn’t the only one in the apartment with secrets.

—

Brooke wakes around 2 with both cats sprawled across her legs. She sits up and pets them absent-mindedly; the cats had to stay in her room because Vanessa is super allergic, “sneezin’ and wheezin’ and itchin’ allergic, Mary,” in her words. It’s easier for everyone to just keep the cats sequestered to Brooke’s room; she gets to cuddle them more, and everyone gets to avoid Vanessa’s sneezes, which are loud enough to send small children running in fright.

She pulls out her laptop and checks her work emails, making notes for her new piece. Nina runs the media site—West’s Best, home to culture, fashion, humor, and more, according to the description Brooke wrote—and Brooke is one of her best writers. But in the name of Brooke’s secret, she lets Vanessa think she’s an underpaid intern, scraping for any piece she can get. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s a necessary evil; under the cover of her “overnight job,” she’s free to spend her nights with her friends, doing things Vanessa can’t ever know.

The blood this morning was a rare slip-up—a remnant from last night’s drink. Brooke has to be more careful. It’s been six months since Vanessa moved in, and Brooke knows she doesn’t suspect anything about her being a vampire.

Hiding it isn’t as hard as Brooke thought it would be. The overnight job lie takes care of most of it, and Brooke stores her blood supply at Nina’s, because she doesn’t think she could lie her way out of that if Vanessa found it. She keeps stories about her past generic, mentioning that she used to dance but not that the dancing took place in a speakeasy 100 years ago. Or how she rode horses sometimes as a kid, leaving out that they were an actual mode of transportation. She’s sure Vanessa doesn’t mind the lack of details; her own stories are over the top enough for both of them, making Brooke laugh until her stomach hurts.

So no, not hard. Just a tiny secret. Though one that’s growing hard to keep, admittedly, because of another secret.

She has a crush on Vanessa.

The crush is a recent development, though her friends insist Brooke’s had feelings for longer, brought on by Vanessa asking opinions on outfits and nights yelling at reality shows together and all the times Vanessa lets her towel hang a little too low after a shower. Brooke’s never been around someone so fun and lively, who finds joy in something as simple as fresh laundry, burying her face in warm, lavender-scented clothes.

But secret number two has to remain secret because of secret number one, obviously, and Brooke just ignores those feelings. Her heart’s been cold a century, after all; it’s not hard to do.

Her phone buzzes with a text.

Vanessa: Can we make grilled cheese tonight?

Two emojis follow it: a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese.

Vanessa: There’s no grilled cheese emoji but you get the idea

Brooke grins, and she thinks her dead heart skips a beat.

—

“This is one of the best grilled cheeses I’ve ever had! You could open a grilled cheese food truck,” Vanessa says around a mouthful of bread.

Brooke shakes her head. “Sometimes I swear you were raised by wolves.”

Vanessa crosses her arms and pouts indignantly, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes, like a laugh she won’t let escape.

“Just ‘cause you drink tea with your pinky curled—“

“I do not.”

“Do so.”

Brooke smiles, taking a bite of her own sandwich. Vampires could eat human food, and Brooke likes to. It just doesn’t fill her the way animal blood does. But she’ll make up for it tonight, while Vanessa thinks she’s at work.

“Oh, that vanity you ordered came today,” Brooke says.

“Yes!” Vanessa fist-pumps the air. “Wanna help me put it together?”

Brooke thinks of the time she helped Nina put together her bedroom set and wound up with a giant splinter in her thumb, a smashed finger from Nina’s lousy aim with the hammer, and a bag of extra screws that Brooke hopes to this day weren’t important (Nina’s bed hasn’t broken yet, so it’s probably fine). Brooke has no desire for furniture-building again, but for Vanessa and those big brown eyes…

“Sure,” Brooke says.

Which is how she finds herself nudging aside clothes and magazines on Vanessa’s bedroom floor, Vanessa’s dog licking her leg and 20 pages of instructions fluttering in front of her.

“Come on, Brooke, what do we do?” Vanessa swings a hammer aimlessly, waiting for something to hit.

Brooke frowns, trying to make sense of the instructions and all the pieces and nails–could this thing need that many nails?

“Um, I think this big piece goes first…” Brooke grabs a square of wood and passes it to Vanessa. “Then we put on the sides.”

“What about the legs?”

“Shit.”

After nearly two hours of reading, Googling, YouTube tutorials, swearing, and Vanessa pretending to be Thor with her hammer, the vanity stands strong and sturdy in the corner.

“We did it!” Vanessa cheers. “Teamwork makes the dream work, baby!”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Fair.” Vanessa cackles. “You’ll be okay at work, right? I didn’t tire you out too much?”

Brooke swallows hard. Is that gleam in Vanessa’s eyes from concern, or does she know exactly what she’s saying? Does she have the same feelings Brooke does?

“I’ll be fine,” Brooke says.

She doesn’t see Vanessa for the rest of the night, and slips out when Vanessa is breathing softly in her bed.

—

The best part of Brooke’s overnight shifts is that she’s not there to wonder where Vanessa goes at the full moon.

She, Silky, and A’keria pile in an Uber and go to the edge of the city, then walk to the woods. Vanessa loves the city, loves all the people and shops and places to eat, but there’s something about the woods. Everything is calmer out here, still and silent except for the occasional rustling of leaves or an owl’s hoot. There’s a sort of peace between the trees, freedom to just breathe and think and be.

The silence is a little too eerie tonight, her thoughts too loud. Or maybe it’s just because she can’t stop thinking of Brooke. There’s been nothing unusual about the past few weeks, but something feels different. They made cupcakes last week and spent hours on Saturday sucked into a 90 Day Fiance marathon, yelling and roasting the couples. Vanessa found herself enjoying it all more than usual, unable to take her eyes off Brooke. She knows what it means, but that’s not an option. Not with her secret.

“Vanessa, it’s almost time!” A’keria yells.

Vanessa snaps up and sees the moon is almost at its highest as it shines through the trees. She pulls off her clothes and sets them in the bag at the base of the largest tree.

“What’s with you?” A’keria asks in concern.

“Nothing.”

“It’s about Brooke, isn’t it?” Silky guesses, and she and A’keria trade looks.

“What’s with the looks?” Vanessa demands.

“It’s nothing,” A’keria says.

“We think Brooke’s a vampire,” Silky says, dodging the furious arm A’keria swings at her.

“You think she’s a vampire?” Vanessa laughs out loud. She can see where they’re coming from, admittedly. Brooke is tall and pale and quiet, with a dry sense of humor and a wardrobe that’s almost entirely black. She can be broody sometimes, especially when Jeopardy! isn’t going her way. She glides around the apartment so silently Vanessa wants to put a bell around her neck. And there’s a mysterious air around her, maybe from how secretive she is about herself–so much so that Vanessa truly doesn’t know much about her past.

But the idea of Brooke being a vampire is ridiculous. Her Netflix recently watched list is just Jane Austen adaptations and The Princess Diaries, and she keeps the freezer stocked with Ben and Jerry’s and pizza bagels, not bags of suspicious liquid or anything like that. Hell, when Vanessa got a paper cut a few weeks ago, Brooke practically flew out of the room to get her a Band-Aid, eyes avoiding the blood. And she uses a baby voice when she talks to her cats and falls asleep cuddling them, for crying out loud—the woman is hardly a horror movie figure.

“Look, she’s not a vampire, okay?” Vanessa keeps one eye on the moon as it shifts imperceptibly, her muscles tingling as they prepare for the transformation. “She goes out in the daytime and stuff.”

Silky rolls her eyes. “Vampires can do that! Sun hurts them, but it only kills them after a long time.”

“She’s fine in the sun,” Vanessa insists. “She doesn’t go out in it much because it gives her a headache and her skin’s really sensitive, so it burns easily.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s sunburn.”

“And an overnight job? Could it be any more obvious?”

Vanessa huffs. “Enough, okay! She’s human!”

Silky shakes her head. “You just don’t want to see it because you’re in love with her.”

“I am not!” Vanessa shouts, but she can’t even kid herself, let alone her friends, who are staring at her pointedly.

“Got a big old lesbian crush,” A’keria says with a grin. “So big you can’t even see your roommate’s a blood sucker.”

Vanessa sighs, knowing that vampire or not, her feelings for Brooke are filling the entire forest. “Look, I really like her, and she probably doesn’t feel the same way. It could ruin everything if I tell her. It just… it just can’t happen.” She shakes off how small her voice is getting.

“I think you should tell her, V,” A’keria says softly. “Vampire stuff aside and everything. How could she not like you back?”

Vanessa wants to believe it, but she shakes her head. “She’s my friend, and she’s human, and I’m–” The rest of her sentence is cut off by a groan as the pain starts. Vanessa’s gotten used to it now–the way her bones stretch and muscles clench, her whole body on fire–but it doesn’t make the pain any easier. She curls into a ball as her claws emerge, as fur sprouts, until finally a thick brown wolf stands tall beneath the moon. Vanessa nods toward the other two, and they traipse through the forest.

Vanessa keeps her mind when she transforms; she normally likes the way everything gets sharper, the way she can smell moss and flowers and animals, can see even the tiniest bugs flapping their wings. Tonight, though, she wishes she could turn it off, because all her thoughts of Brooke are heightened too. The sheer beauty of her soft, smooth skin. The way her hair shines like gold in the light and always smells like tea tree oil. Her rare laughs, the way her shoulders shake with the movement and her green eyes sparkle. How much Vanessa wishes she could see Brooke’s pale skin uninterrupted by clothes, melting into Vanessa’s sheets, before falling asleep in Brooke’s arms.

Vanessa sighs, running through the trees and leaving it all behind.

She really can’t be in love with her roommate, but it’s too late.

—

Brooke is extra careful the next few weeks. She rinses her mouth carefully before entering the door each morning. She eats half the garlic bread Vanessa makes one night. She even goes shopping with Vanessa, rare sunshine beating down on them. The only reason Brooke manages without pain is because of the special sunscreen her witch friend Yvie made, but Vanessa doesn’t need to know that. Brooke just wants to flaunt it, hey, look how human I am. Vanessa is blissfully unaware, and that’s what Brooke needs. No threat to her secret, no chance she’ll have to run and leave her friends behind.

“Brooke, can you help me make posters?” Vanessa gets home one night with her arms full of construction paper and Crayola markers. “They’re for the dog shelter.”

Vanessa volunteers at a dog shelter every Sunday, coming back with fur on her clothes and a bunch of videos of dogs playing fetch and running in circles. She loves going, yapping about all the dogs after, and even though Brooke is more of a cat person, she listens anyway.

“I’ll help,” Brooke says. It’s only fair after Vanessa made yesterday’s dinner when Brooke was busy with work.

Markers roll across the table as Vanessa lays her supplies out, and they get to work.

“What’s that, a hippo?” Brooke asks at Vanessa’s drawing.

“It’s obviously a dog, Brooke!”

“A dog with a hippo’s nose.”

Vanessa sticks her tongue out at Brooke and Brooke bursts into laughter. The night continues as they pass markers back and forth and Vanessa pops enough popcorn for a movie theatre, ending when Vanessa begins her nighttime shower and skincare routine, the one that leaves her skin soft and glowing, smelling of citrus and coconut. Brooke’s head is full of those scents when Vanessa calls her from the bathroom.

“What do you need?” Brooke asks.

“We’re out of towels.” There’s a smug tone to Vanessa’s voice. “There should be a clean one in the laundry basket, if you wanna bring it to me.” Brooke can practically see Vanessa batting her eyelashes through the door.

Brooke opens the door a crack, extending the towel. She can’t look at Vanessa, she can’t–

“Thanks, Brooke!” Half of Vanessa’s broadly-grinning face peeks out, running into the soft lines of her collarbone and gentle curve of her shoulder. Brooke’s dead heart almost jolts back to life. She wants to blast the door off its hinges, grab Vanessa, and throw her on the bed–

But the alarm on Brooke’s phone goes off, reminding her to get ready for work.

—

Brooke slides up to the corner table, her vampire gang awaiting: Nina sipping her drink, Priyanka checking women out, Kameron deep in thought. Red neon signs flicker on the dark walls, glasses of blood and beer sliding across the bar counter. Whoever thought of a vampire bar is a genius, in Brooke’s opinion, and being here with her friends is one of the best parts of her day.

“Sorry I’m late. Got caught talking to Vanessa.”

“How is she?” Kameron asks.

“Fine! She’s fine.” Brooke laughs nervously, reins her voice in before it rises another octave. No need to share what almost happened. They’ve all heard more than enough about Vanessa–Vanessa made cookies, try one; Vanessa scored 42 points when we went bowling; Vanessa made the worst pun ever, you have to hear it–and Brooke knows it’s not helping her in the ‘just a crush’ department.

“You know, Brooke,” Nina says slowly, like she’s been sitting on this a while, “sometimes I think Vanessa isn’t fully … human.”

Brooke scoffs. Vanessa, who cries over movies and gives old people her seat on the subway and can’t sleep without fuzzy blankets or a squishy pillow, is one of the most human people Brooke has ever met. Then she looks around the table and sees Kameron and Priyanka matching Nina’s cautious, thoughtful expression.

“What, you think she’s a witch or something?” Brooke barks out a laugh. “There’s gotta be a cleaning spell she would’ve used in her room by now.”

“Not a witch,” Nina continues, being the spokesperson of the group. “We think she might be a werewolf. Kam saw her in the woods last full moon.”

“So what?” Brooke asks, playing nonchalant even though it is odd that Vanessa would go in the forest at night. “She can go in the woods, it’s not my business.”

“I’ve gotten wolf vibes from her before,” Priyanka says.

Brooke shakes her head fiercely. “She’s human. She just really likes dogs–”

Nina purses her lips.

“–and her table manners leave something to be desired,” Brooke continues, “but she’s human. Besides, I’d know if she wasn’t.”

Kameron frowns.

“What?” Brooke demands.

“You can be kind of oblivious sometimes.” Nina takes over. “I mean, Kameron had a crush on you for months before…” she cuts herself off as Brooke and Kameron look anywhere but at each other, not needing the reminder of their old fling. If vampires could blush, they’d both be flaming.

“But that’s fine now,” Kameron says quickly. “I have Asia, and you have–”

“–A crush on Vanessa,” Priyanka interrupts.

Brooke sighs. She knows her face can’t feel hot, but somehow it does anyway. She knows she has a crush; knows she rushes home after nights with her friends just to see Vanessa before she leaves for work, knows she laughs over the stupidest things just because Vanessa does them. But it hurts to hear it out loud when she can’t do much about it. Vampires and humans didn’t mix. If they had any kind of relationship, Brooke wouldn’t be able to hide the secret forever, and Vanessa would probably run when she found out. Who wouldn’t?

But Brooke doesn’t know how much longer she can keep her feelings inside, pretend she feels nothing when Vanessa sings to herself in the shower, or plays with her dog, or tells Brooke to listen to new songs she discovers, both of them huddling around Vanessa’s phone and smiling.

“I really think you should tell her you like her, Brooke,” Nina says, and Kameron nods.

Brooke shakes her head. “Nothing can happen.”

Priyanka winks. “I think it can. I see romance in your future.”

“We all know you just pretend to be psychic because you’re in love with Alice from Twilight,” Brooke mutters, and she lets the erupting laughter distract her from Vanessa.

—

Silky and A’keria’s paranoia rubs off on Vanessa for a while. She keeps Brooke out in the sun for hours, bumps Brooke in front of mirrors, “accidentally” makes too much garlic bread. She stops just short of running at Brooke with a cross. Brooke’s human, just human, even if Silky and A’keria aren’t convinced.

Vanessa decides to make breakfast to gloss over any odd behavior Brooke might have noticed. Brooke usually eats a protein bar before she goes to bed each morning, and Vanessa wants her to have a real breakfast.

The idea of telling Brooke her feelings runs through Vanessa’s mind as she flips pancakes. Her being a werewolf is just a small secret, really. A lot easier to hide than her feelings. Lately it’s been all she can do to stop staring at Brooke’s soft skin, to not grab her and finally see how her lips feel.

Keys jingle in the hall and she knows it’s Brooke and her keys with the cat keychain. It’s just a stupid little detail, but Vanessa’s heart swells with love for Brooke, and it makes her mind up for her.

Vanessa sets the pancakes and scrambled eggs on the table just as the door creaks open.

“Vanessa?” Brooke blinks in confusion. “What’s this?”

“I made breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Brooke says, but she’s already drowning her pancakes in syrup.

Vanessa sits across from her. “I wanted to. I wanted to make sure you ate a real breakfast.”

Brooke raises an eyebrow.

“Protein bars aren’t breakfast and you know it!” Vanessa’s yell morphs into a laugh that Brooke matches.

“Okay, okay.” Brooke grins. “These pancakes are amazing, by the way.”

“I know.” Vanessa laughs.

Brooke sips her coffee, and maybe Vanessa bumps the table, maybe she doesn’t. Maybe Brooke’s sure, steady hands just fumble a bit. Either way, there’s a spot of coffee soaking Brooke’s shirt, and when Brooke grabs a washcloth, Vanessa stands up, legs wobbling.

“Maybe you should take that off,” Vanessa says, watching Brooke drop the cloth in the sink.

Brooke raises an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming devilishly. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Vanessa breathes, “maybe you should take that off.”

Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa’s heart speeds up, wondering if she’s made the wrong move. But then Brooke grins. “You first.”

Vanessa’s whole body is on fire as she lifts up her shirt, her face bright red when Brooke’s eyes linger.

“Bed. Now,” Brooke commands, and Vanessa runs.

—

Vanessa doesn’t realize until later. How could she have realized when Brooke’s hands were roaming her body, when her cool lips touched Vanessa’s, when her ears were full of nothing but her own gasps and moans?

No, she doesn’t realize until later, when Brooke is at work and Vanessa’s head is finally clear again, able to think of something besides the blonde hair that Vanessa’s hands tore through and left messy, the soft lips she finally got to kiss, the arm that wrapped around her waist until she fell asleep.

Through all the gasps and touches and excitement, Vanessa’s heart was a bird in her chest, fluttering frantically in response to each and every touch. But when she thinks about it, there was no pulse thrumming through the still rivers of Brooke’s veins as her wrists brushed Vanessa’s body. When she thinks about it, all she heard from Brooke’s rib cage was silence.

Brooke has no heartbeat. And they need to talk.

—

Nina’s mouth hangs open when Brooke walks in the bar that night, no doubt knowing what just happened. “Brooke, you–”

Brooke sits down and rests her head on the sticky bar table. “I had sex with Vanessa,” she groans into the wood, knowing they’ll hear her.

“I told you bitches!” Priyanka yells.

“Shut it, Miss Cleo,” Brooke says, raising her head and taking in everyone’s expressions–all of satisfaction and acceptance, not a shocked face in sight.

“What are you gonna do now?” Kameron asks. “Does she know? Did she notice you don’t have a heartbeat?”

“Hers was going fast enough for us both,” Brooke says. “Besides, she wasn’t close enough to my chest to hear anything… I don’t think so, at least.”

“What are you gonna do?” Nina asks.

Brooke groans again. “I don’t know. I’m hoping it’ll be a one-time thing and we’ll go back to normal.”

“And if you don’t?”

Brooke sighs. If Vanessa wants a real relationship after this, it wouldn’t be fair to her to do that. Brooke would have to run, and she looks around at her friends and knows she never wants to leave them, just like she never wants to leave Vanessa. She forces those thoughts away. “I don’t know. What am I supposed to do? Get a cake that says ‘Hey, I’m a vampire?’”

Kameron shrugs. “That’s how I told Asia,” she says, so deadpan Brooke can’t even tell if it’s a lie.

“You can’t do a cake, you gotta do some classier shit,” Priyanka says. “Cream puffs are classy, right? Do cream puffs.”

Kameron suggests eclairs, and Priyanka insists that cream puffs are better. Brooke buries her face in her hands. If she wasn’t a vampire, her friends would’ve given her a stress-induced heart attack by now.

“Okay, cream puffs and eclairs are basically the same thing!” Nina hisses until Priyanka and Kameron quiet down. Nina then turns to Brooke, a hand on her arm. “Look, things are still new, you don’t have to tell her anything yet. Just… do the romantic shit. You’ve been single for decades, just be in love for right now.”

Just be in love for right now. Brooke considers it. She hasn’t had anything remotely like love since her and Kameron had their brief thing in the 90’s, before deciding they were better as friends. Before that, well… Brooke doesn’t think she ever has. There were crushes, sure, like the waitress at that diner who knew Brooke’s coffee order, the grocery store cashier that always flirted with her. But they were human, and Brooke knew nothing could ever happen, that she could never have anything with them. But something about Vanessa, human or not, makes her want to try.

“You’re right,” Brooke says to Nina. “I think me and Vanessa need to talk.”

—

The sun is shining when Brooke gets back to the apartment, and Vanessa is standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips.

“Everything okay?” Brooke asks. Vanessa obviously has something to say, and Brooke’s stomach lurches with the fear that it’s something bad. What if Vanessa wants to move out after what happened?

“I think I should be asking you that, considering you have no heartbeat,” Vanessa mutters, clenching her fists.

Brooke gulps, rubbing through her actions the past week, wondering if she did something to reveal it, because how does Vanessa know? It doesn’t make sense, and she decides to turn the tables.

“How do you know I have no heartbeat?” Brooke demands. “You would’ve had to be right against my chest to notice, and you weren’t. Unless…” Nina’s theory runs through her mind, and it’s like a fog clears right in front of Brooke. “You’re a werewolf!” Brooke yells, pointing at Vanessa. “That’s why you have advanced hearing. That’s why my cats have to stay in my room!”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanessa tries, crossing her arms.

Brooke crosses hers too. “Then I don’t know what you’re talking about either.”

They’re in a standoff, and Brooke isn’t going to give first. She’ll stay for decades, if she has to. She narrows her eyes at Vanessa, who’s having trouble holding her expression as the seconds tick.

“Fine!” Vanessa yells. “I’m a wolf.” Her face softens suddenly, and she looks at Brooke with love in her eyes. “But I promise I’ll never hurt you, ever. I keep my mind when I change, and I go far away, just in case. I’d never put you in danger.”

Brooke’s head spins with it all. So Vanessa really is a werewolf—but from the steps she takes to protect herself and others, she’s clearly as kind and caring as she always has been, helping old ladies cross the street. And what does it matter, really, that Vanessa isn’t fully human, when Brooke isn’t human herself? And if Vanessa isn’t human, Brooke being a vampire won’t matter to her, and Brooke warms at the thought. She moves closer to Vanessa, pulls her into a hug. “I’ll never hurt you either,” she promises. “I only drink animal blood. I just didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to scare you.”

It seems so stupid now, considering the secret Vanessa’s had this whole time, and Brooke can’t believe she didn’t notice. Maybe she really is as oblivious as Nina said. But maybe, from the love in Vanessa’s eyes, it doesn’t matter.

“It’s hard to scare a wolf.”

“I’m stupid, aren’t I?” Brooke sighs.

Vanessa shakes her head. “I’m just as stupid, don’t worry. Silky and A’keria told me you were a vampire but I didn’t want to see it. All I saw was you, and I knew I couldn’t have you because I’m—“

“A wolf,” Brooke finishes. “I didn’t see it either. I really should’ve, though, considering the mess you make when you eat.”

“Hey!”

“And how every dog in a 3-mile radius runs to you.”

“Says Miss Brooke Lynn ‘I only wear black’ Hytes!” Vanessa yells, and Brooke snorts.

“I wear gray sometimes!” Brooke protests, and Vanessa rolls her eyes.

Brooke squeezes her gently, breathing in her apple shampoo, letting it calm her. Vanessa looks up at Brooke and grins hopefully. “So can we do this, then? You and me?”

You and me, Brooke thinks, slightly daunted by how large those words seem. With Vanessa being a wolf, the risk of a human knowing her secret and being in danger is gone. Werewolves even age abnormally slow, so her and Vanessa will have lots of time together. And they already live together, already cook together every night and share their lives each day. How different can it be to make it a full relationship, let their feelings show instead of dancing around them?

“We can do this,” Brooke says.

Vanessa reaches up and kisses her, and Brooke has never felt so human.

#rprdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #nina west #kameron michaels #priyanka #silky nutmeg ganache #akeria davenport #branjie #lesbian au #supernatural au #fluff #implied smut #wondrous creature #athena2 #tw blood #concrit welcome #submission

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aboysbestfriendishismum · 4 years

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Chapter 55 – Wine, puzzles and Spoon Men (Part Two)

In the previous chapter: Meg and Angie go shopping for wine, food and sexy clothing for the romantic date with Eddie. They also discuss a sketch made by Meg for a tattoo based on the puzzle concept. Eddie arrives at Angie's apartment as she's at the window, trying to open a wine bottle with the help of a boot because she's got no corkscrew. The evening goes on quietly despite the fucked up heating system, Eddie's emotional turmoil caused by the half nakedness of Angie and her legs, and embarrassing moments, but it's also time for some intimacy between them. Angie thinks that the date she planned so well, has now turned into a disaster. Eddie can't read the mixed signals she sends to him, since one minute she teases him and one minute later she backs up. He suggests once again telling someone, maybe Meg, about their relationship.

"Come back soon though, ok?"

"Yeah, sure" as if it made any difference. One look at Eddie, at his half closed eyelids and his hair spread on the pillow, and I get up from the bed to go to the bathroom. I find myself face to face with the huff and puff version of me in the mirror, I open the cabinet on the left and grab the cotton pads and the make up remover. As I clean my face and see the make up pad become dirtier and dirtier I think about how useless the whole initial preparation was. What was the point of making myself pretty... well, trying to... if it led to nothing? I thought this could be the right time but then, when we got to bed, after kissing for a while, Eddie calmly pointed out I had still makeup on and that it seemed strange to him that I wasn't going to remove my make up before going to bed, since I'm always 'so meticulous'. Meticulous my ass! Everything went wrong tonight: the wine fell out of the window, the romantic music was turned off almost immediately, candles and flowers? No one gave a fuck about those. Nor for the t-shirt, no comments about it... and now? He even told me to go and remove make up. Congrats Angie, you surely impressed him. I throw the dirty pads in the bin and since I'm here I decide to brush my teeth.I look in the mirror as I try to sync the movement of the toothbrush with the one of my sad head-shaking. Do you really believe that with one wine bottle more Eddie would have had sex with you? Are you sure that putting on a different album you'd have had Eddie throw himself at you as soon as he got here? Or that the slutty nightgown Meg suggested would have turned him on more? Can't you see the problem is not in these stupid things, neither in the kind of flowers or in the color of your lipstick? You can put lipstick on a pig... but it's still a fucking pig. It's so evident he doesn't like me, Eddie can say whatever he wants with words but his actions send a completely different message. I rinse my mouth, towel my face, put the toothbrush back into the blue glass and, as I notice the face cream jar right next to it, it's like a supernatural creature suddenly showed up to me, not the ghost of Hamlet's father, but Meg, hands on her hips, saying stuff like '... anti-age creams are bullshit to make money. The only way to delay wrinkles is moisturize and keep your face off the sun...'. I moisturize a lot with this sweet scented stuff, slapping my face a little in the process with the pretext of letting my skin absorb the product well. I turn off the light and go back to my room. Eddie is turned the other way and he's probably already sleeping. And he suffered from insomnia. Since I started hanging out with him, I've never seen it taking him more than ten minutes to fall asleep: either he's a liar or I cured him. I get into bed and pull only the sheet up because it's still hot. At this point Eddie rolls over in the bed to face me, he kisses me on the cheek and rests his head on my shoulder. He also reaches out and tries to touch my belly but I promptly block him and place his hand on my hip. Looks like it all took me less than ten minutes.

"Uhm... so good..." Eddie kisses me all over the right side of my face, basically nibbling on my cheek.

"Do you... do you like it...?"

"I love this scent. And then... you're all so... creamy..." I try and not react because, I mean, it's not like you can only take the pieces of me that you like: either you like all of me or nothing, take it or leave it. But Eddie's arguments are very convincing as always and I end up rolling in the bed with him N times, a little on my side, a little on his side of the bed. And I'm even more at Eddie's mercy here, in the almost total darkness of my room, since I can't see or anticipate his moves, which surprise me every time. Why does it feel like he has, I don't know, ten hands? Why does he touch me like that? It should be illegal. It's too good not to be illegal.

We roll again,Eddie ends up over me, there's a lot of passion going on and a very small amount of fabric covering us and... and Meg is really anasshole and I gotta beat her up one day because I blame her and the stupid things she said this morning if now I have to bite the hell out of my lip not to laugh at Eddie's face. I can almost see her, standing here at the end of the bed, folded arms and smart ass face, as she's asking me What about now? Is he dying once again?

"Angie?" Eddie's deep and panting voice wakes me up from my silly thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?"he asks me and doesn't stop moving over me but simply takes it slower, making it all even more intense if it's even possible.

"What... what do you mean? I'm here"

"Physically. But your mind is somewhere else" ok, how can he do it? How can he know it? Can he see in the dark like cats and saw me making one of my weird faces? Can he read my mind? Considering my thoughts right now, I hope not.

"It's your fault... you... you make me dizzy"

"Oh really?"

He's dying pretty bad, isn't he?

Shut up, you jerk!

"Well, yeah" I answer and my eyes are getting used to the dark too because I can see clearly both the color blue of Eddie's eyes and the sparkle that briefly lights them up and sends some kind of smirk to his irresistible lips. I touch them with my fingers and he kisses them one by one, before attacking my mouth once again and I can't reason anymore, I can't think of anything that's not his breath, his skin,his hair tickling my neck, his teeth, his hands that... god, I...

"Wanna sleep?"

"Huh?" what did he say? Wait, when did he stop kissing me.

"I said, do you want to sleep a little?" he repeats and this time I can hear him, and I feel him stroking my hair as I can only see white dots in the dark.

"Ok" I reply.

I'm such a loser. I fall for it. EVERY. FUCKING. TIME. But this mess must end: either we're friends or a couple. Either we have sex or we don't have sex. I mean, either we have sex or we do NOTHING.

He took his time to die, didn't he?

Fuck you, mental projection of Meg!

"Do you have to wake up early tomorrow? I'm asking you 'cause I gotta mentally prepare myself to your killer alarm clock" he jokes and I'd really knock out all his beautiful teeth with a punch right now.

"Not that early, the killer alarm clock rings at half past eight"

"Hehe wow, I'm lucky then" he laughs and rolls away from me, lying on the other side of the bed.

"Right. So... good night"

"Good night, Angie" I feel him crawl under the sheets towards me, he rests his forehead against my temple and takes a deep breath. I basically squeeze my eyes shut and hope to fall asleep soon "Angie?" but Eddie nullifies my plans by calling me again.

"Yeah?"

"What about the good night kiss?"

"Haven't we kissed good night already?"

"I don't think so, when?"

"Like... two minutes ago? And we kissed more than once?" I stay still and keep my eyes shut.

"But those where another kind of kisses, they weren't good night kisses"

"No?"

"No"

"Is there a specific type of kiss for saying good night?"

"Sure. And they even gave it a name, you know? Someone calls it... good night kiss"

"Very original"

"Can I have one?"

"One what?"

"One good night kiss"

"Ok"

"Ok?"

"Ok, let's go with the good night kiss" and I said I was quitting a moment ago.

"Yeah?" Eddie's breathing slowly agains my cheek, it seems like he's almost holding his breath from time to time.

"Yes, you can kiss me" Resolve is my second name.

"Uh. I can" he says with a weird voice. One second later his lips are on mine for a peck, then he turns away on his side "Night"

"Good night Eddie" was that all? Well, it's better this way, isn't it?

I'm alone. Ok,Eddie's here in bed with me, but it's like I'm alone. I keep on tossing and turning between the sheets without getting any sleep. Now I've been lying looking up, in complete silence and perfectly stil lfor at least five minutes, focusing on the ceiling in search for something interesting. If I were at home in Idaho, now I'd have Frou Frou to talk to, my favorite humidity stain/little horse/imaginary friend. I inspect the cracks in the plaster trying to assign them a known meaning, the shape of a person, an animal, a random being I can legitimately ask a question a grown up would ask. Not that the things I told Frou about were only children stuff but I honestly can't picture myself asking my childhood's imaginary four-legged friend why my boyfriend doesn't want to fuck me. Or I should say, why my friend who's not attracted to me keeps on playing the girlfriend and boyfriend game. If I ask myself the same question, well, I already know the answer. I need a fake external interlocutor who can balance my insecurity saying that maybe it's not me, maybe he can't just forget his ex or he's got some intimate problem or he's simply asexual and doesn't know how to tell me. Those mould signs, don't they vaguely resemble a salamander? Couldn't the salamander tell me some of that bullshit? So I could then retort that fussing with complicated theories is just stupid when the answer is almost always the easiest one. I mean, to come up with the Occam's razor in a more convincing way, I need a cross-examination, a debate, I can't do all by myself. By the way, rather than a salamander, it looks more like a fish. Umph, maybe I'd better close my eyes and try and get some sleep. I turn on my side again, looking towards the door.

"Is everything ok?" for a moment I almost think it's Patti Smith's poster speaking, only with a sleepy and very more masculine voice.

"Yes, Eddie"

"Can't you sleep?"

"No" and neither can you, I'd say.

"I could open this window too, what do you think?"

"No, I mean, we shut down the radiator. And we've already opened the window in the other room, I don't want to catch a chill"

"Ok"

"I'm not warm anyway"

"Don't you?"

"No. What about you?"

"Uhm no, I'm fine"

"Ok then" I say and hope he'll stop right here and go back to sleep. I can't wait to hear him snoring.

"Why can't you sleep then?" holy shit...

"I don't know..."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No" I answer, maybe a little too quickly.

"Are you sure?"in the semidarkness I can see my boots at the end of the bed and the urge to use one of them to hit his head and knock him out is strong.

"Yes"

"Sure sure?"stronger and stronger.

"There's nothing wrong, Eddie, really. I don't know... maybe I had too much to eat, maybe it's just the thoughts, you know..."

"Which thoughts?"of course he must focus on the second part.

"Normal thoughts,about normal stuff" we're dangerously close to my tolerance limit.

"Like what?"

"Like things I have to do tomorrow"

"What do you have to do tomorrow?"

"Normal stuff, like... grocery shopping, paying the rent, cleaning the windows"

"You don't have enough money to pay the rent, right?"

"Sure I got the money!"

"I can't see what's keeping you awake then" the danger is getting closer.

"'Cause there's nothing wrong, I told you"

"Other thoughts?"

"No"

"Are you sure?"once you cross the limit, you can't go back.

"No. Well, there's one problem actually"

"Really? What is it?"

"IT'S THAT I'M FUCKING SICK OF THIS FUCKING SHIT, EDDIE!" I blurt out as I switch on the lamp on the nightstand and sit up on the bed.

"Angie wha-"

"CUT THE BULLSHIT, I'M FUCKING DONE WITH THIS!" I yell at his face again, startling him and making him and the mattress under our butts tremble.

"Too many questions, huh? Sorry, I'll let you sleep..." Eddie looks kind of intimidated when he apologizes, because he can't understand shit of course, poor him. And that just upsets me more.

"SLEEP MY ASS! I DON'T WANNA SLEEP!"

"Ok"

"AND YOU WON'T SLEEP EITHER"

"Alright..." Eddie, who was about to turn away on his side, realizes it's better to sit up just like me. I'm breathing heavy and fast, I'm sulking and my arms are folded over my chest. From time to time our eyes meet, mine are probably crazy, his are perplexed, but nobody speaks for a long time. Eddie's the one who breaks the silence "Do you want us to talk about it?"

"Yes" I reply before a deep sigh "I think it's really time to talk about it"

"Ok"

"I'm all ears" I mean, he's doing on purpose, isn't he?!

"YOU'RE ALL EARS?? YOU ARE LISTENING TO ME?!"

"Uhm... no?" Eddie's trying hard not to lose his composure and look calm but he's failing.

"NO! I'm listening to you, I am the one who listens, you are the one who has to talk!" I try and take control back because I'm scarying myself.

"Me?"

"Sure, you owe me an explanation"

"How can I explain if I don't even know what you're talking about?"

"Why don't you want me?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you with me if you don't like me?"

"WHAT?" thi stime he's the one who loses his temper and launches a shrill cry at my face.

"You know it's true"

"Angie, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Why don't you wanna have sex with me?"

"Oh my god" Eddie looks down and holds his head between his hands as he shakes it.

"I mean, I know I'm not a hot chick but..."

"Angie"

"But you keep saying we're a couple and... if two people are a couple they're supposed to like each other, in every sense"

"I like you in every possible and imaginable sense"

"So... so why don't you show me?"

"I don't show you??" Eddie looks up at me as if I had just said the earth is flat or something.

"Why don't you wanna do it... with me?"

"Do you really think I don't want to?"

"Well, yeah ,considering nothing's happened yet"

"Angie, I'm literally dying to... I so want to make love to you"

"Then why don't you-" I actively ignore his choice of words.

"I'm only waiting"

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to be ready"

"Ready? But I am,I'm so ready!"

"I doubt it, Angie"

"Look I... I'm...I'm not a virgin anymore if that's what you think" the mere thought of being here having this conversation with Eddie makes me want to die but I can't stay in this limbo of uncertainty for ever.

"I know, I mean, I guessed..." he answers with a rather tense grimace and I can't help remembering the times he unwillingly caught Jerry and I in unmistakable situations "That's not the point"

"And what is it?"

"I don't think you're ready to do it, with me"

"Why?"

"Because you're not completely comfortable with me yet"

"Haha I'm never comfortable with anyone, not even with myself, that's how I am, it doesn't mean anything!" I let out a nervous laugh. If he's waiting for me to turn into Miss Self Confident before having sex, I might as well become a nun.

"It means a lot to me though" Eddie's still frowning and I try and be serious.

"I know. What I meant is that I'm always like this... I'm shy... that's the way I am, it doesn't mean I'm not happy with you"

"It's got nothing to do with shyness. Trust me, I know you're good with me, I can sense it. What I do not know is what you feel. For me. I mean, there are times I seem to understand it, but then maybe you do something that tells me the exact opposite and I just don't know what to do"

"What I feel?" like it's easy.

"Yeah"

"That's not easy... talking about feelings. You know I'm not good at talking in general"

"You don't necessarily need to talk, Angie, there are other ways to show you rfeelings"

"I always show you!"

"No, I always show you. You... you don't do anything"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON'T DO ANYTHING?!" I raise my voice, spontaneously this time too.

"Angie, you...you don't even kiss me"

"I what?"

"You dont kiss me. Ever" what the hell is he talking about?

"That's not true!"

"Yes, it is. Since that first time at the bus station in San Diego up until the good night kiss earlier tonight. It's always me kissing you, you just reciprocate"

"I'm sure you're wrong. I must have kissed you... sometimes"

"Sometimes? Sometimes when?"

"I don't know, it's not like I remember every single time"

"Had it really happened, I'd remember, trust me"

"Eddie"

"That'd have been a historical event 'cause you never kiss me first. You never do anything first. You never take a single initiative with me"

"Well, ok... I admit that... maybe... since I'm shy, I often let you come up to me first to-"

"Often? I'd say always"

"I'm sorry" I'm so fucking embarrassed and his look becomes sweeter.

"You don't have to say sorry! I don't want your apologies, I only wanna know what the problem is and what I have to do to reassure you" he strokes my arm delicately and I can see he's trying to make me feel better but I feel worse.

"You don't have to do anything, you're not the problem"

"You don't kiss me, you don't even call me on the phone, unless you ask me on advance exactly when I'll be at home, when you can call me, when you're not bothering me and so on. When you showed up at my door with the cake before the concert, you made me so fucking happy"

"Hehe for so little?"

"Yes, because it's not that little"

"And what about tonight? Don't you think I took the initiative tonight?"

"No, not really"

"No? I had you find me basically half naked, dressed only with a t-shirt of your favorite band... I set up this whole romantic and sexy scenario, I even sabotaged the building's heating system... if that ain't an initiative!"

"You... you did what?"

Oops.

"I couldn't show up naked with zero degrees at home, you'd have thought I was stupid. I just wanted to turn on the temperature a little, 'cause if it's always freezing here it's not because the heating doesn't work, it's cause those asshole owners keep it low to save money! Then it's not my fault if the handle came off in my hands as I was turning it" I reveal my evil plan to Eddie who looks more and more surprised.

"So... making this whole mess is easier for you than simply, I don't know, I'll just say it... than simply tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you want to make love to me"

"Oh, that"

"How can you do it if you can't even say it comfortably?" I can almost hear Meg, who apparently hasn't left my bedroom yet.

"I told you, I'm shy!"

"Anyway, if you want my opinion, I wouldn't call yours an initiative. That's not taking the initiative. That was... trying to tease me so that I would then take the initiative, as always"

"I'm not the femme fatale who jumps on you and eats you alive, Eddie"

"You don't have to be! Well, unless you want to, in that case I wouldn't protest" he adds with a teasing smile.

"That won't happen, not even in my next hundred lives"

"Come on, I was just kidding. What I mean is that I'd settle for something much simpler"

"That is?"

"A kiss, Angie. A fucking kiss, which by the way you haven't given to me yet"

"We're talking"

"So what? Who cares, kiss me and shut me up"

"Like you did to me in San Diego?" I smile thinking about it.

"Yes, I want you to fucking kiss me. I want you to feel as free and comfortable as to kiss me, hug me, call me, slap my face whenever and however you want to, without any prior inquiries, announcement or permits on stamped paper"

"That's not easy for me"

"But why? Why can't you let yourself go with me?"

"Because... because I'm scared" it costs me a lot to answer, especially cause the answer is honest.

"Scared of what? Angie, I know we're just at the start and I know you had bad relationships before. I wanna be honest to you: I'm not a saint, I'm very far from perfection, I'm flawed and you haven't seen my worse flaws yet. But I really care about you and this relationship and I won't fuck up"

"Looks like I am the one fucking up" I sadly reply.

"Shut up! Why do you say so?"

"Well, we're discussing..."

"We're talking, we're not fighting. We're trying to understand why you don't trust me"

"I trust you"

"Not enough"

"Eddie, really, I do trust you. It's myself that I don't trust"

"Yourself?"

"I don't trust myself because Im scared. I'm afraid I'll make a mess and fuck it all up. Something I'm already doing"

"You're not doing anything, I told you we're just talking. That's how people solve their problems: talking. Or kissing. As I've been asking you for a while but you haven't done it yet..." Eddie elbows me trying to make me laugh and it works a little.

"Hehe here we are, I try to be serious and you make fun of me"

"I'm not making fun of you, it's an actual request. And it's still valid"

"Maybe I don't take any initiative because... because I'm afraid they're the wrong ones"

"Wrong?"

"I'm afraid of doing the wrong thing, making mistakes. Being too clingy, or not enough. Being too present or too absent. I... I don't do anything because this way I can observe you... and understand what you want"

"And what about what you want? Doesn't it count?"

"I... I want you, that's what really counts" it's like I hear someone else answering in my place and I could see this someone suddenly blushing profusely in front of Eddie, whose jaw drops as I speak.

"Oh Angie..."he takes my face between his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes"I want you too, I want you as you are and I wouldn't change a single thing. I just wished that you weren't afraid of being yourself when you're with me. And that you kissed me whenever you want to. Or whenever I ask you. Something that, I don't know if I mentioned it already, you haven't done yet"

"If it was up to me, I'd always kiss you, Eddie"

"You say it like it's a bad thing" he stretches his thumbs to stroke my cheeks.

"No, you don't understand. When I say always, I actually mean always. I mean, I guess you looked at yourself in the mirror a thousand times but I don't think you did it with the same eyes I have when I look at you"

"Ok, so I look good and you want to kiss me" he takes his hands off my face and shrugs.

"It's not about beauty, something you're not short of anyway. It's like... I mean, your mouth... ok you use it to do a lot of things... talking, singing so good, drinking and eating... but your lips, it's like they're calling me, repeatedly, and not to have a chit chat"

"No?" he looks at me so smug and pleased with himself.

"No. And it's not like your lips are made for kissing: your lips invented kissing itself. I mean, I haven't studied this aspect of history specifically, but I believe people didn't use to kiss on the lips until somebody appeared on the planet who had lips like yours. And at that point evolution just followed its natural course"

"Is it a contorted way to compliment me?"

"It's a contorted way to tell you that if I really let myself go, as you want, I'd glue myself to those lips like a fucking plunger and I most likely won't let you do anything else and I couldn't do anything else either and we'd end up losing consciousness like Marina and Ulay. Only we're not artists, I mean I'm not, and we couldn't live off this kind of art anyway, we'd only look like a couple of jackasses" and so it happens that I try and let myself go and get anxious, and when I get anxious I start bantering random stuff without even taking a breath. And talking about breath...

"Marina and who?"

"And Ulay. Breathing in/breathing out, never heard about it?" Eddie shakes his head no "It was a performance art piece. Marina and Ulay are two artists and used to be a couple too. One day they decided to stick cigarette filters up into their nostrils to block them and press their lips together in a suffocating kiss, exchanging carbondioxide mixed with that single initial dose of oxygen, which was consumed in a few minutes, that led them to almost faint"

"Hehe you make me lose my senses even without nose plugs, so I say we can do it" he laughs and I can't articulate my thoughts, it takes me so long to reply back.

"And what if I let myself go and you can't stand me? What if I become annoying? What if I kiss you when you don't really want to?"

"Angie, I'll tell you a secret"

"You're always telling me secrets"

"Yes, because I'm older and wiser"

"Hahaha please"

"So, the secret: the secret is, there ain't a moment I don't want to"

"There are appropriate and less appropriate moments"

"That simply don't exist. I can't think of a single moment I could even just think about not wanting to be kissed by you. I mean, they could tie me up and torture me, sticking needles under my fingernails and toenails, and I'd still want you to kiss me if you were there"

"You're so dramatic"

"I could have just been shitting razorblades for an hour or have undergone an appendix surgery without anesthetics. But if you came up to me to kiss me, I surely wouldn't turn the other way"

"Hahahaha"

"It's true, I'm not kidding. But also in a positive situation! They could have-"

"Haha they who??"

"Hey, I'm trying to make a point. What was I saying? Oh right, they could have just announced I won a Grammy, an Oscar or another fucking random award and maybe they're calling me on stage to accept it. But you're there and you're kissing me and I won't move an inch and I won't give a fuck about the rest. I mean, yeah, I'd care only because winning the prize would be another excuse for another kiss, only because of that"

"And what if the Cubs win the World Series?" that's too easy if it's about awards, let's talk about the things that really count for Eddie.

"All the more reasons to want a fucking kiss from you to celebrate the event! But I hope I won't have to wait for that event to actually happen for you to kiss me"

"You won't have to wait that long" I answer, shifting a little on the bed to get close to him.

"No?" he whispers.

"No" I get alittle closer.

"How long then?"he insists looking alternatively at my eyes and at my lips.

"A very short moment"

"Really?"

"Yes"

"Ok"

"I'm waiting"

"Just a minute! You're so impatient"

"Yes, I'm kind of impatient, you know? It's only..." Eddie stops talking and stares at an indefinite point behind my back, as he counts on his fingers at the same time, then looks back up at me "I've been waiting for this moment for three months"

"Three months?"I ask puzzled.

"Well, knowingly three months. A little more unknowingly..."

"What does unknowingly mean?"

"Weren't you just about to kiss me?"

"Eddie, what do you mean unknowingly?" I raise my voice a little, Eddie rolls his eyes and gives up and answers.

"I mean that, you know, it's not like I woke up one morning and decided I had a crush on you, it was something... slow and gradual"

"And it started more than three months ago?"

"It started the first time I saw you, at Roxy's"

"Please, you barely spoke to me! And you still were with your ex by then"

"Not really... anyway I said it started then... and still goes on. The first time we talked I started to get to know you and it's like you slipped inside of me, like a seed, which sprouted and then the bud would grow day by day. And the more I got to know you, the bigger the plant grew and the more I liked you. And when I figured out what was happening, it was too late because I was in too deep and the small plant had become a fucking tree"

"Haha a tree?"so I'm not the only one having non sense monologues when I panic.

"Yes, a fucking baobab, Angie. Now if only you could maybe stop laughing at my metaphors and kiss me, please"

"Ok"

"Ok. Can't you see you just can't do it although I'm literally asking you?"

"I can! Just a second, it's not easy this way... like... cold blooded"

"I think our blood is everything but cold right now, Angie"

"Alright, I'll kiss you now so you'll shut up!" I come up to him and put a kiss onbhis lips, then I look at him triumphantly "See?!"

"What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean? It was a kiss"

"And do you call that a kiss?"

"Sure! Why? What do you call it?"

"I don't call it,I didn't even notice"

"Oh so my kisses leave you cold, I see..." I'm about to back up towards my side of the bed but Eddie holds on my hips.

"They don't leave me cold, I know your kisses, that's why I'd want a real one"

"A real one, huh?"

"Yes, please"

"Something like... this?" I speak against his lips before slowly placing mine over his, delicately at first, then pressing them a little harder.

"Uhm... that's better" I give him a little break to reply, then I kiss him again, until I feel him sneak his hands under my t-shirt.

"No, you can't..." I block his hand and keep on kissing him, pushing him on his side of the bed and pulling and holding his joined hands up over his head, as if he was trapped.

"What did I do?"he asks and looks seriously worried.

"If I understand correctly, I'm supposed to take initiatives now, am I wrong?"

"Oh" his frown turns into a dimpled smile.

"So don't move, ok?"

"You don't have to actually do everything"

"DON'T MOVE, OK?" I repeat louder and his amused smile turns into something else.

"Alright, my princess" he answers and I let go of his hands and bury mine into his lustrous mane of curls, and then I kiss him so passionately that at some point I find myself straddling him without even knowing how I got there.

"So?" I pull away and he breathes hard with his lips still slightly parted. Then I sit up astride him "Was it ok?"

"Very ok..." he finally opens his eyes and uses them to burn me on the spot "You like me then?"

"Hahaha oh really? Brilliant deduction, Watson"

"Don't laugh" he grabs my thighs and shakes me as if he was trying to throw me off.

"Why? Didn't you know it"

"How could I know it?"

"That makes no sense. You obviously knew it"

"Obviously? Obvious for you. Had you been in my shoes, what would you have thought?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you were me, if you were the one who always had to take the first step. And I don't mean just the kissing... If you had to always search for me, call me... And if, at the same time, I'd also asked you to keep it absolutely secret and not to tell anyone we were together. And I had cautiously avoided hanging out and being seen in public with you, avoided showing even little more than friendly behaviour towards you in the places our common friends usually go to... If I hadn't told you a single word about my feelings or about us in general, unless on your specific request and with some pressure... In that case, what would you have thought? How would you have felt?" is like shit accepted as an answer? This reminds me of when I used to date that asshole called Drake. Well date is a big wo-... Wait a minute.

"Unwanted. Oh but you don't feel like that, right?"

Fuck.

"Not anymore. Maybe"

"Eddie, I..." I lean forward and pepper his face with kisses. His smile looks relieved but I feel like shit and I speak between kisses "I...didn't... think... that-"

"That I can be insecure too? Well, I can"

"I'm an asshole" I sigh and rest my head on his chest, stretching my legs until I'm completely lying over him.

"I'm the asshole because I should have told you before" he replies stroking my hair.

"Talking to me isn't easy, I'm always elusive. All slippery. I'm a champ at slipping away from difficult situations and serious talks"

"But you're not getting away from me anymore now" he hooks his legs around mine and blocks me in a trap I don't wanna get out of.

"I'm sorry"

"Stop saying that, ok? I didn't say it to make you feel guilty, I told you to make you understand why I couldn't make love to you"

"And now?"

"Now what?"

"Now... could you?" I pull my head up as much as to look at him in the eyes, which are amazing even in the light of my shitty lamp.

"I don't know, I'm not the one who takes the initiatives anymore"

"I hate you"

"That's not true"

"It is" I layback on my side of the bed and drag him with me, over me, grabbingthe hem of his t-shirt and taking it off in the process.

"Do you know what I found out, Angie?"

"What?"

"That I like it when you take the initiatives"

"Oh really?"

"I like it a lot" he repeats as I get rid of the Who t-shirt too.

"Good" I clasp my hands behind his nape and pull him towards me not so delicately for a long kiss, which turns into a long series.

At some point I find myself with my panties slid down to my knees and I can't give any scientific explanation to this phenomenon, because my arms remained around his neck and his hands stayed on my boobs the whole time. So either the friction and grinding made them roll down or Eddie has some extra hands or everything's just happened by magic. And I don't know what came over me, because while I try to take them off completely with one hand, I reach for the elastic band of his boxers with the other hand trying to pull them down. My gesture doesn't go unnoticed because it's like Eddie suddenly went nuts. He starts licking and biting on my face, lips, tongue, neck, on the left side, getting closer and closer to my weak spot and I can't think anymore and I just keep moaning. I briefly come back to my senses when I feel him humping against me again, this time with no fabric barrier, after pulling my legs apart.

"Eddie?"

"Yes?"

"Second... second drawer" I explain pointing left.

Eddie seems to calm down a little too, he caresses my face with the back of his hand, gives me a gentle peck on the lips than opens the drawer of my nightstand, finding the pack almost immediately. He pulls one out and hands it to me, before throwing the pack on the nightstand and plop down on the other side of the bed.

"Here" he says as I try to cover myself with the sheets as much as I can.

"What does it mean?" I give him a puzzled look.

"That you're the one who takes initiatives now, did you forget?" he retorts with those fucking dimples showing. And not just those.

"Oh that's the way it is now?" I try and look pissed.

"Yep"

"And will it always be like that?"

"Why? Do you mind?"

"Not at all" I can hear myself talking but I don't even know where all this confidence comes from. I stop asking questions and try to keep it and hold it tight as long as it lasts, as I force my lips against his and open the wrapper.

"Stop laughing" I can hear laughter vibrating in the depth of Eddie's chest because my ear is resting against it, I mean, is basically glued to it, since we're also kind of sweaty. I hope to avoid the vacuum effect, I don't really wanna ruin the moment by blowing out my eardrum.

"I'm happy. I laugh" he laconically answers.

"No, you're laughing at me"

"Why should I?"

"You know why" I pull away from me and lift my head up to look at him and I can see all his beautiful teeth showing.

"You're adorable when you cum, you know?"

"Sure, apart from the sounds I make"

"Actually, I was specifically referring to those sounds"

"The adorable strangulated wailing of a piglet butchered at the slaughterhouse?"

"Hahaha shut up!"he laughs squeezing me under the sheets.

"Of a squirrel squished by a car?"

"Or a squirrel on crack?" he quotes the name of my old and only band.

"Hehehe right"

"Wait: that's not the reason you were called like that, right?" he gets all serious all of a sudden and seeing his face I think I liked him better when he was making fun of me.

"Hahahah oh my god! Of course not!"

"Are you sure?After all, your ex was in the same band..." he goes on and kind of sticks his tongue out at me right after.

"That's not the reason at all, it was a random choice"!

"Ok. Anyway, Ilike it, it's sweet. You're sweet" he relaxes and kisses my forehead.

"Sweet? So my attempt at looking hot, confident and sexy failed miserably?"

"Sweet is sexy to me. Sweetness is the thing that turns me on the most, you know?" he kisses me over on my temple and on my hair.

"Really?"

"That and the inclination to vandalism. And after tonight, I'd say you scored great in both"

"If they put cameras in the boiler room, I'm screwed" I hide my face against his chest once again.

"Don't worry ,I'll pay your bail"

"With what money?"

"Well, I guess we'll sell a bunch of copies of Ten, I hope"

"Ten?"

"It's the best candidate among the names for our album"

"Because it's ten songs?"

"Actually they'll be eleven, or twelve"

"So what's with ten?"

"It's Mookie Blaylock's number. We had to change the name but we gotta pay a tribute to him, you know"

"You're fixated" I shake my head before burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"Right now I have a different kind of fixation though"

"Oh really? And what is it?" I ask sincerely curious because I honestly think he's still talking about music. So he definitely catches me off guard when in a split second he grabs me and turns me over and pushes me on the bed, jumping over me.

"What do you think?" he asks with a euphoric expression as he mercilessly grinds against me.

"Again? Already?"maybe I react with too much surprise.

"What? What do you mean already?"

"No, nothing"

"Don't you want to? If you don't feel like, it's ok, really" he stops moving and I'd cut my tongue.

"NO, I WANT TO!"

"So why-" he's about to answer, not withough snickering for the heat of my answer.

"I thought it'd take you longer, I don't know! I've never been with someone... well, your age"

"Angie, ok, I'm older than you, but I'm 26 not 62" Eddie looks at me like I'm stupid and he is not that wrong.

"Details"

"I'll show you the details" he threatens and grabs at the sheets and pulls them upover our heads, covering us both completely.

"Wasn't I supposed to always take the initiative?"

"Your Majesty, unfortunately I have no option but to make an exception and give you a practical demonstration. May I?"

"Sir Vedder, please proceed"

**************************************************************************************************

"What about Butterfly girl?" Mike comes back to the table with two pints of beer in his hands, while Stone and Grace tag along, each bringing their own glass.

"Nuh, I don't know. It sounds more like the name of a fucking superhero or something" I answer unconvinced.

"Superheroine" Stone points out. Who else?

"Ok, it sounds like a fucking superheroine. Catwoman, Batman, Batgirl, Butterflygirl... you know?"

"Yes, thank you Jeff for your reasoned explanation. Anyway it's a fake demo, the titles of the songs don't have to make sense. Actually I think Cam doesn't even expect you come up with titles" during his observations, in which he doesn't forget to make fun of me, Stone keeps his arm over Grace's shoulders all the time and thank god Laura hasn't come here too. I'd have been sorry for Mike if he had to fifth-wheel, I mean, things haven't been going great for him lately.

"If he asked me to take care of the artwork of the demo, then it means the tape will be important in the movie" I explain what seems obvious to me. If this demo gotta have a certain image, it means it'll appear on screen at some point, so it has to look real.

"Oh sure, it'll surely be the most important part of the movie: the whole plot revolves around your demo, Jeffrey" Stone nods before taking a sip of his bear and I'm tempted to crash the glass on his head.

"Jeff is right! If it wasn't important, Cameron wouldn't have given him this task. He'd just take blank tapes and write the name of the guy on them in the moment... What's the name of the character again? You told me but I forgot" Grace chimes in to defend me and it's too funny watching Stone pretend this doesn't irritate him at all.

"Cliff Poncier"

"He's thrown out of his band and starts selling his five-track demo on the streets" McCready points out.

"And how many tracks do you have by now?" Grace asks again.

"Three, I've still got two" I show her the notepad in which I jotted down the titles and made a sort of sketch of the demotape's cover.

Seasons

Nowhere but you

Spoon man

... girl

???

"The fourth one... does it have to be about a girl?"

"Yes ,cause he's been dumped by his girlfriend too, not just by the band. Like every real loser musician, he vomits his pain in songs" Stone answers for me and I try and concentrate again to come up with a good adjective to add to this girl of the title. I give a distracted look outside the pub's window but what I see makes me give another more attentive one: the unmistakable Angie's car that's being parked on the other side of the road, right outside our condo.

"Angelic girl?" I try but I can see it sucks as soon as I say it.

"Jesus no! Let Mike give you suggestions, it seems to me like he's more expert about being dumped" Gossard jokes and the other guitarist gives him a nasty look.

"I wasn't dumped"

"Sure"

"I chose to be alone"

"Obviously"

I follow Mike and Stone's quarrel and, at the same time, the movements outside the pub. Angie gets out of the car cautiously looking around, whereas there is our singer coming out from the passenger side, calmly walking around the car and hugging her from behind as if it was nothing, kissing her cheek. They're cute! But if they don't want to be caught, they should be a little more discreet. Ok, it's all pointless in the end, 'cause everybody knows they have a thing, but if they want to bring on this ridiculous charade, they should at least be good at doing it. They even got me catching them the other day! I mean, you told your girlfriend to come over to our apartment? Just fuckin' tell me! Or if you don't really wanna tell me, because you have to play secret boyfriend, at least let me understand it, drop hints, tell me to leave and stay out and come back much later, tell me we'll meet directly at the soundcheck! But no, you tell me nothing and I must come back home and find you both entwined on the fuckin' armchair. I don't even know how you didn't hear me, as I rushed to get out of there as fast as I could I think I even slammed the door. And it wouldn't have been so bad if they noticed me but, knowing Angie, she'd have been ashamed and wouldn't have talked to me for ages.

"Fly girl?" Mike suggests and this is not bad.

"Uhm not bad, I'll put it among the maybes, good job Mikey!" as I write it down I see that Angie's putting into practice my advice about being cautious. She basically shakes herself free of Eddie and tells him something he must not like that much, 'cause he stares at her with a disappointed face and folded arms. Angie now points at the pub and I turn back towards the others as I'm afraid she could see me through the window and notice that I saw them.

"Yeah, go Mike! Hey, what did Mike do?" Cornell arrives at our table and sits next to me unceremoniously.

"He suggested a possible title of a song" Grace promptly answers.

"From your album?"

"No, from Cliff Poincier's demo" I answer only seconds before anothe rfriend joins the group.

"Did you finally find all five titles? Hi guys..." Hangdog Eddie sits down next to Stone and I can't help looking outside, where I can see Angie sitting inside her car, focused on letting an appropriate amount of minutes pass before getting in not to arouse suspicion.

"Hey Eddie. No, only three and a half" Stone explains.

"Who the fuck is Cliff Poncier?" Chris asks confused.

At this point I quickly update him, telling him about the demo and the little part of the movie plot Crowe shared with me.

"Cool! Let me see... Seasons, huh?"

"What's that? A song about the only two seasons existing in Seattle?" Angie's voice comes from behind my back and I can't help thinking that the minutes she let pass weren't that many.

"Hi Angie! What are the two seasons?" Mike asks and makes room for her right next to him.

"Wet and wetter" Pacifico shrugs and she can't believe she can sit on the exact opposite side of Eddie not to look suspicious. What a jerk.

"Well,if it's actually written, it could really talk about that" Eddie laughs trying to dissimulate his being upset.

"And why don't we actually write it?" Chris pounds on the table with his fist and stands up.

"What do you mean?" I ask perplexed.

"That we should really write these songs, record them and have Cameron listen to them. That would be a nice surprise, don't you think?"

The table keeps silent for a while. Everybody, like me, is probably trying to figure out if Cornell's just kidding or is being serious. Something that happens like 90% of the times with him by the way.

"Are you saying you'd really write..." Angie stands up too to stretch across the table and read from my notepad "Spoon Man??"

"Why not? Artis would be happy, we'd advertise him" Chris replies and now we realize he's serious. And if that wasn't the case, now I'll make him.

"Ok, I challenge you then: I have to present the artwork of the demo to Cameron by Monday, you've got five days to write the five tracks of the Poncier's tape"

"Five? Hahah you'll have them all tomorrow, man!" he exclaims and shake my hand to seal the deal.

"Actually not to nit-pick, but you still have to come up with two titles, I mean, one and a half" Stone points out.

"What about Flutter girl?" Grace makes her attempt and... fuck, it's the best"

"Wow, I like it! Flutter girl it is, sorry Mike" I nod at the guitarist, who shakes his head.

"Nuh, no problem, her suggestion wins for me too"

"Ok, we only got one left then. Y'all put your thinking caps on" I encourage and the other girl at the table speaks up.

"Well, the fifth title is missing so... so why don't you call it Missing?"

"You're two fuckin' geniuses!" I state and add the last title to my notes, before tearing the page and giving it to Chris "And now you're screwed, man!"

#pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #pearl jam #eddie vedder #jeff ament #mike mccready #stone gossard #chris cornell #cliff poncier #chapters

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drowning-in-dennor · 5 years

Text

Festivity

Yeah, this is pretty much the same thing as Celebration but at the same time is kind of a sequel to it? Basically, it kind of sucks but read it for Denmark’s birthday, I guess.

For as long as he can remember, Denmark’s been told that all the stupid things he does will come back one day to bite him.

And he, with his thousand years of existence, has never felt that more than when his phone rings right next to his ear on the bedside table. At midnight. And he knocks his still-ringing phone off the bedside table, rolling to the ground to grope blindly for it a few seconds later.

As Sweden and Norway have said so many times before, it’s a miracle he’s still functioning.

He presses “accept” on the call and is instantly greeted with Norway’s voice.

“Happy birthday, Denmark.”

“Is… is this revenge for me calling you?” He asks, yawning.

“What do you think? Would I randomly call you at midnight otherwise?”

“How are you still awake?”

“Coffee and motivation.”

Blearily climbing back in bed, Denmark reminds himself to never piss Norway off again. “I…” he yawns again. “Thanks for calling. I’m going back to sleep now.”

Then he throws his phone on his bedside table, burrows under his blankets and shuts his eyes.

…

He’s woken up again at ten in the morning, this time to Sweden’s call. With life decisions to reconsider and regretting not setting his phone to silent the first time a call woke him up, he answers the call.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Fwump.

And falls off the bed again.

“Dad, I think we killed Denmark.”

“No,” he says, voice slurred with sleep. “I’m alive. I just fell off the bed.”

“You were sleeping?” Ladonia asks. “But it’s ten o’clock!”

“In the morning!” Sealand adds.

He answers with a yawn. Might as well get out of bed now. “Well, I’m awake now. Can I talk to one of your dads?”

“DAD!”

Denmark drops his phone.

When he picks it up again, Sweden’s talking on the other side, thankfully much quieter than his sons. “... coming over soon.”

“What?”

“We’re coming over soon,” Sweden repeats. “Leaving for the airport in fifteen minutes.”

“With Fin and the kids?” Denmark asks, getting to his feet.

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll make lunch, okay?” He fishes for clothes in his closet, pulling out a button-down shirt. “See you.” Hanging up, Denmark heads for the shower, clothes in hand.

...

When he walks into the dining room, towel slung over his shoulders, Denmark almost trips over his feet when he sees Norway sitting at the table, sipping his coffee from one of his mugs.

And wearing that one red shirt he knows drives him crazy.

He doesn’t know if he should regret giving Norway keys to his house.

“Morning.”

Denmark’s frozen in place and processing the fact that Norway is sitting at his dining table, in his house, in clothes of his flag colour and looking really, really hot, and trying to remember how to breathe properly.

And because he’s as socially inept as a two-year-old, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “The hell are you doing here?”

Norway gets up from the table with a small smile, tilting his head and showing off those amazing blue eyes that sparkle in the sunlight and making Denmark forget how to breathe. “I can leave if I’m disturbing you.”

“No, no!” He blurts, face burning. “Uh… wow. I didn’t expect you to get here until the afternoon.”

“Well, I decided to surprise you. Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“You look nice.” Great job, Danmark, talking out of your ass at the only one you’ve ever loved. “Amazing, actually. You look amazing, Norway.”

He reaches Denmark, reaching up on tiptoes to grab him by the collar and pull him into a kiss, and that’s when Denmark’s brain stops functioning.

When Norway pulls away from him, he knows he probably looks like a fish out of water, and he wonders why he’s acting so awkward and weird today.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Denmark asks, surprised that he can still form full sentences. “I can cook us something if you haven’t.”

Face flushed from the kiss, Norway returns to his seat. “I had breakfast before I left Oslo, so I’m fine. How about you?”

“Sve and Fin are coming over with the kids for lunch, so I’ll make some stuff, I guess.” Bouncing for the kitchen and earning a chuckle from Norway, Denmark reaches for a cookbook. “I’m thinking something simple. How does hønsekødssuppe sound?”

Norway joins him at the kitchen counter, peering over his shoulder at the recipe. “No idea what that is, but I’ll help you make it. Now,” he leans closer and pokes Denmark on the cheek. “What do we need?”

…

The dumplings are boiling away in chicken broth when the doorbell rings and Denmark runs to get it. Standing in the doorway, holding a small parcel, is Iceland. “Hi.”

“Ice!” He squeezes him in a hug, making him drop the parcel on the floor with a clunk.

Iceland frees himself with a kick to the shin and picks the parcel up. “You’re even older now, so we’re going to have to celebrate.” He hands Denmark the package with a smirk. “Here’s your present for getting old.”

“Don’t be rude, Ice,” Norway calls from the kitchen.

“You’re old, too,” Iceland hollers back.

Denmark peels the tape off the parcel and finds himself looking at a stack of parchment bound together by twine. The edges are torn and every piece of parchment is wrinkled, yellow with age and packed with the dark-blue, ink-splotched handwriting of Iceland.

He takes the first piece of parchment and starts to read.

14th May, 1814

Dear Denmark,

I heard you and Sweden arguing today, in the castle. I know Brother locked me in my room before the fighting started, but you two were yelling so loud that I could hear it all the way from where I was. You sounded like you were in pain, so I want to make sure you’re okay.

Why was Brother involved? I heard you say, “Don’t take him, don’t take Norway from me” after you and Sweden were done fighting, like Sweden was going to take Brother away. He won’t do that, right? He has Finland, and I know he won’t trade him for anything or anyone.

But I know that everything’s going to be fine, because you two have fought so many times. When you’re done, I’ll rip this up and go help in the kitchen. Then, the three of us will have dinner like always.

From Iceland

15th May, 1814

Dear Denmark,

I couldn’t sleep last night. I had dinner with Greenland and Faroes, but they were so quiet I felt like I was on my own. Everything was so, so quiet, and your shouting match with Sweden started replaying in my head. You were crying yourself to sleep, I could hear, but you locked your door so I couldn’t come in.

Sweden did take Brother away, didn’t he? That’s why you told me he wouldn’t be coming back. But I’m sure he’ll be back, because you’ll fight Sweden again and take him back. You love Brother, so that’s what you’ll do to show that you love him. I’m sure of it.

Please come out of your room — it’s getting awfully lonely by myself.

From Iceland

16th May, 1814

Dear Denmark,

I’m sorry for making you mad. I shouldn’t have picked the lock to your room, and I should’ve known you needed some time alone. And please don’t blame Faroes for teaching me how to pick locks, I’m the one who trespassed.

I told Chef to make your favourite foods and bring them up to you this evening, so maybe they’ll make you feel better. Good food means a good mood, after all.

And even though everyone else disagrees, I really miss you. I miss you telling stories and riding horses with me and teaming up to prank Brother. Brother’s not here any more, but for one day, could we maybe spend some time together?

From Iceland

“I wrote these letters for a year after Nor left,” Iceland mumbles. “I wanted to slide them under your door… but I decided not to. Thought you should read them now.”

Tearing up, Denmark hugs Iceland again. “You’re the best little brother a guy could ever ask for!”

“We’re not even related!”

Emerging from the kitchen, Norway raises his phone and snaps a photo of the two of them with a smile. “Your boss texted you, by the way,” he tells Denmark. “He wants to know if your speech is ready.”

“What speech?”

…

When Sweden, Finland, Sealand and Ladonia show up, they find Denmark and Norway sitting at the dining table, hunched over a stack of cue cards. Denmark’s holding a spoon in one hand and a pen in another, while Iceland is watching the two of them in faint amusement.

“Happy birthday, Den!”

Finland is met with silence.

Iceland looks up from his bowl, idly stirring his soup. “Denmark forgot he has to deliver a speech in an hour.”

“That happened last year, too,” Ladonia pipes up.

“Well, they made lunch,” Iceland gestures to the pot sitting in the middle of the dining table. “So help yourselves, I guess.”

Sweden sighs and walks to sit next to Norway, peering at the cards. “Need help?”

…

Denmark reaches for another brunsviger and sighs in relief. “Thank goodness I pulled that speech off.”

Sweden raises an eyebrow at his brother, passing the plate of buns to Sealand. “You’re welcome.”

“Consider that my present for you this year,” Norway adds. Denmark sputters in disbelief and is met with a smile. “I’m just kidding, silly. You’ll get your present later.”

“You better be talking about a nice book, or I’m out of this house the moment you two go to Den’s room,” Iceland warns. “Or maybe I should somehow get Mr. Puffin all the way from Reykjavik and sic him on you.”

“What are they doing to do?” Sealand asks, mouth full of bread.

“They’re going to read stories and chat together, Peter,” Finland says, shooting Denmark and Norway a dirty look. “Isn’t that right?”

Iceland chokes on his brunsviger in laughter.

The evening fades to night, and soon Norway and Iceland are the only ones left in the house. Iceland retires to the guest room at eleven, grabbing his bag and marching up the stairs. “If I hear anything strange at night, I’ll break into your room.”

Denmark and Norway walk into the bedroom an hour later, sliding into bed together. Norway wastes no time in inching closer to Denmark, resting his head against his steady heartbeat and wrapping arms around his neck. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

He kisses Norway’s forehead. “Seems like just yesterday when Iceland was little and we lived in the castle.”

Norway laughs, nuzzling into Denmark’s neck. “Iceland’s still our little brother, and our houses are pretty much castles anyways.”

“So not much has changed.”

They hold each other as sleep covers both like a blanket, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

No, not at all.

#aph dennor #aph fanfiction #aph denmark #aph norway #aph iceland #aph sweden #aph finland #aph sealand #aph ladonia #aph whale brothers #aph øresund brothers #aph anko family #aph hanatamago family #my writing #danish constitution day

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taehyungiesnoona · 5 years

Text

02 | radiance

⇢ summary: You never had a purpose in life. The night you decided to end it all, you encounter a ray of sunshine that makes you question your way of thinking. Jung Hoseok’s smile is the reason you’re decide to give life a try again.

⇢ pairing: female reader x Hoseok

⇢ genre: angst,romance, soulmate!hoseok

⇢ rating: SFW

⇢ warnings: minimal use of profanity, depression, mentions of suicide, Hobi’s smile (yes, this is still going to be in the warning hehe)

⇢ word count : 1.6k

⇢ A/N: finally the second chapter is here! so so so sorry this took foreverrrrr for me to post. writing has been hard for me lately but i think i might be posting shorter chapters so i don’t get too burned out. hope you enjoy! happy reading~

Chapters 01 || 02 || 03

»»———— CHAPTER TWO ————-««

“Who the fuck are you?!”

The words coming out your mouth seemed to sting the mysterious man a bit. He brought a hand up to his chest, looking to be appalled by your fowl language.

“Oh my god! That’s quite the mouth you have there.”

You continued to sit there on the ground, awaiting for his response to your rather rude but straightforward question.

“But if you must know, I am your hope. I am your angel…” he made a fluttering motion with both of his fairly large hands. “I’m J-Hope!”

“Your name is...J-Hope???”

From the few minutes of encountering this man, it seemed like all you were able to do was arch your brow up at anything that came out of his mouth. You took in his name slowly, trying to decipher if that was what his parents actually named him. Truly unique and even having just met him, was all too fitting. It suited him due to the personality to which he had displayed so far.

“Yes, you can me call me J-Hope. Or Hoseok….whichever you prefer.” He looked down to you once more flashing that gorgeous smile of his.

Hoseok...

Your gaze becoming lost in it once more, causing your heart to skip a beat. You had never seen a smile like his before. So pure, innocent and most of all genuine. What was this feeling you were experiencing now? You looked up at him, a bit starstruck as another question fell from his lips.

“What’s your name?”

Almost giving into his question, you began to feel a burning sensation coming from your forearm. Wincing a bit, you jumped back a bit on the ground causing Hoseok to do the same. Refusing to let him know you were in any kind of pain, you swiftly get yourself off the ground and rush past him, not allowing any further conversation to continue between the two of you.

Your body still feeling extremely weak but in that moment, you had to get away from Hoseok. To stop your heart from beating at the rapid pace it was, and to not think about whatever this burning sensation was. There was no way to really describe the pain you were now suffering from. The closest thing would be the same as placing your hand upon a hot stove. The covered flesh underneath your long sleeve shirt feeling as if it was being severely scalded.

Running as fast as your frail body would allow, you didn’t even care to stop. You could hear Hoseok calling after you several times.

“Hey! Hey, wait!”

For some strange reason, each time he called out to you your body felt like it was being pulled in by his voice. Almost magnetic in a sense. Your willpower though seeming to be greater than the enthralling that was being sent not only to your body, but to your heart. A million thoughts were once again flooded the cramped space that was the inside of your mind. Two things that stuck with you the whole run back home:

Who is he?

What was that back there?

Slamming the front door shut, you quickly bolted the lock and headed straight for the bathroom. Head spinning in all sorts of directions from the events that took place tonight, you were at a loss of words. How was it that from one moment you were on the verge of ending your life, to everything you once knew being completely thrown upside down? How was it possible for your world to be shaken by a simple smile? A nice gesture that you've seen countless times but never having the effects of this caliber.

Quickly flicking the bathroom light on with your index finger, you made haste to the bathtub and turned the faucet on allowing nothing but steaming hot water to run down. Grabbing the bottle of your favorite body wash, which to you smelt like Christmas, you poured a adequate amount to the water that was now filling up in the tub. Removing the clothing from your body, you dipped your toes into the bath allowing yourself to adjust to the temperature. It felt as that of a hot springs and you could not wait to full immerse yourself in it.

Slowly easing your body down, suds were now clinging onto your bare skin. You stretched your legs in the bath, resting your head on the back of it. It had been sometime since you had take a bath of this much pleasure. Being in the funk that had taken over the last few weeks of your life, you were only able to take really quick, military like showers. During that time all you wanted to do was sleep. Anything else was not too much of importance to you. The depression that was overtaking you, had a tight hold on your daily functions. Now having a bit more control of your state of mind, you made it your priority to get the most relaxation as possible. It had been long overdue.There was no ounce in you that wanted to rush this time you desperately needed. Though your hands were sure to be wrinkled once you got out, it didn't matter.

Your mind was at ease for the first time in weeks. You needed this.

Laying there still in the water for quite some time, you took it upon yourself to sit up and go on to washing your body squeaky clean. The bottle of body-wash still sitting on the ledge where you left it, your reached for it as well as your favorite loofah, the sponge itself being a cute pastel purple with an adorable horse on the top of it. You eyes trailed down your right arm to see something strange, something you never had seen before in your life. Eyes widening in shock, the breath coming out almost being taken away in an instance.

"What the-"

Placed upon your arm was a marking, its resemblance to that of a tattoo was uncanny. The redness still apparent on your skin but what was strange was that there was no pain from sitting in the scalding hot water. Your finger trembling as you slowly went to touch the marking that was now sitting on your forearm. Tracing around its shape with a careful hand, you gazed upon the image that was on your skin.This weird marking that for some reason was now on you was in the shape of a sun. Looking directly at it, you shuddered as if you could feel its radiance intensify on you.

Your instincts taking over immediately, you dip your arm into the hot water and begin to scrub against it with your loofah. Washing away at it, water splashing a bit on the floor, you grit your teeth as your motions become more intense. More furious. Clearly thinking that it would just rinse off your skin, you bring back your arm up only to prove yourself wrong.

“Aaahhh!” The frustration that was pent up inside you was now out.

There it was still, unbothered at all. Gazing intently onto it, you noticed that it looked as if it were a birthmark of some sort now, truly looking to be one with the flesh of your arm now. Once again becoming lost in the midst of your thoughts, you leaned closer in while you continued to examine it carefully. The beating from your heart thumping hard against the walls of your chest, an image coming to you.

Quickly standing up and rushing out the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around, you hurried to the living room, straight to the bookcase you kept in the far corner. Placed upon eye level was a picture of your parents. They looked to be fresh out of college, both in their early 20s. The photo seemed to be taken at night, your father’s arm clinging onto your mother’s hip. No gap was between them as they had huge smiles plastered on their faces. You found yourself smirking a bit at their happiness when your eyes shifted down their arms and onto their wrists, causing them to widen once more.

There they were.

Upon each of their wrists was a tattoo like marking, much like the one that was present on your forearm. Instead of a sun, each on of them had two hearts, the meaning behind them you were unsure. But you knew one thing was certain. You remembered hearing the story from your father himself. That photo was taken the day the two of them met.

When they became each other’s soulmate.

Looking back down at your arm, that’s when it hit you. Had you found your soulmate? The one thing you desperately avoided to happen? Was that man...Hoseok...the person you were always meant to be tied to?

“How is this possible?” you mumbled, fingers trembling from the thought.

This was what you always wanted to avoid. Your introvertive ways was supposed to prevent this from happening. How did it so happen that he had to be there at that exact moment? Why did he stop the train from hitting you? Why?

Not wanting to think more on the matter, you scurried along back to the bathroom and threw your pajamas on. You could feel a headache beginning to form so you slid open the medicine cabinet and grabbed for the bottle of ibuprofen, shaking two pills from it and popped them into your mouth. To the side of the counter, there was a small cup which you picked up, filled with a bit of water from the faucet and drank allowing the pills to go down your throat.

Walking back into your room, you wasted no time in getting back under the fluffy comforter. Though you probably had more than enough rest, your eyes began to drift shut. Peacefully going off into a slumber, unconsciously knowing that a certain smile replayed itself in your dreams. His smile.

Hoseok’s.

[ TO BE CONTINUED]

a/n: if you made it to the end, yes i did include a gif of Hoseok’s sweet smile. i couldn’t resist.

♡ masterlist

#thebtstown #bangtanarmynet #armyofwriters #btsprotectnet #bangtanbuds #jung hoseok ff #soulmate!hobi #angst #romance #reader x hoseok #sfw #jung hoseok #jung hoseok fanfiction

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harryandmolly · 6 years

Text

Cuttlefish - (a LTBOMH deleted scene)

A/N: A little monday morning fluff for all you motherfluffers. I have issues letting go of things so... here’s Shawn and Lilly again (I imagine this fitting somewhere within chapter 6, FYI). ALSO CONVENIENTLY coincides with a 1200 follower celebration, I LOVE YOU GUYS <3

Summary: A nap date and a really stupid nickname.

Warnings: Language, domesticity

Word count: a respectable 2.1k

“Hi, you landed?” Lilly mumbles into her pillow. The yawned words distorted by a pillowcase would be impossible for anyone but him to decipher.

He’s lifting his bag off the luggage carousel with his free hand and nodding when he remembers she can’t see him. “Mm, yeah, about 10 minutes ago. I’m getting my bag now.”

“Good flight?” She rolls over off her stomach so he might be able to hear her better.

“Good enough. We didn’t die.”

She snorts. “That’s the spirit. You going straight home?”

He’s nodding again, silent for a beat too long. He has to blink hard to keep his eyes open. “Mmhmm. Bed. Sleep. Nap. Now.”

Lilly frowns. She knows they agreed they wouldn’t see each other today. She has just come off a 12-hour day on set that became a 16-hour day on set when absolutely everything went wrong. Now she knows why everyone in Hollywood says never work with kids and horses.

He’s been in New York for two and a half days and has been awake for the last 22 and a half hours of it. It was better, they both knew, to hook up later when they weren’t both zombies and could enjoy each other’s company.

“Hey, I know we said we wouldn’t try to see each other today but I personally feel that if you get in a Lyft and come nap with me, you’ll be a much happier boy.”

Her voice is run-down from a night spent muttering into a walkie-talkie and it’s fucking music to his ears. He loves that she wants to see him if only to dream next to each other. He grins goofily into the phone as he stumbles behind his team to the cars waiting for them at arrivals.

“That sounds nice, baby. Can I shower at your place?”

“Mmm,” she mumbles in assent, closing her eyes and rubbing her nose into Olaf’s dingy white fur.

He hangs up and tells Andrew he’ll take a Lyft to Burbank. When he arrives, he hauls his luggage up the steps to her private entrance and opens the door without knocking. She’s curled up in a ball on top of her yellow duvet with the curtains drawn and lights off, TV glowing a second season Gilmore Girls episode she’s seen about 104 times. She smiles sleepily at him in the dim light.

He drops his backpack by the door and bumps into her coffee table, swearing as he almost tumbles onto her bed. He steps away from the offending furniture gingerly, giving it a look. He turns his focus to her and feels his whole body relax at the sight of her in her big plaid shirt and her little pink panties waiting for him, barely able to keep her eyes open. He flops onto the bed, partially on top of her legs.

Lilly snickers at him, clumsy as ever, as he falls on top of her. She scoots down to curl around his head until they sort of resemble a weird, lop-sided yin and yang symbol. He lifts her warm little hand off the sheets and brings it to his lips, keeping his eyes on hers as he kisses her knuckles the way he always does when he’s been gone a few days.

“Baby,” she coos. There’s no follow-up thought, no words to accompany it, just the pet name says enough. He blinks his eyes open and decides it’s been too long since he felt her breath so he unfurls himself around her and rearranges her beneath him so his knees bracket her legs and he’s hovering over her, watching her chest rise and fall. Her skin is pale and peeking out of her shirt. He wants to drag his lips and teeth over the spot until it’s not pale anymore at all.

But he’s so fucking tired.

She stares up at him, tracing the edges of his lips, the slant of his nose, the circles under his eyes. She threads her fingers back into his hair and pulls him down for a kiss.

It’s warm and lazy and perfect, just like she feels. When he pulls away to prop himself up on his knees between her thighs, he tucks his hands under her knee caps and strokes his hands down over her calves, just looking down and admiring her. His eyebrows lift when he watches her face contort with pleasure.

“Oh my god, yes,” she moans, arching her back as his rough fingers rake over her two-day-old stubble. Her hand reaches out and grips Olaf hard. She looks up at him through hooded eyes.

“Lilly, what the—”

“My calves are so sore,” she whines through an embarrassed chuckle. She goes pink thinking about the noise she just made and turns her face into a pillow to hide from him as he snickers at her.

“I’ve never heard you make that noise without my face between your thighs,” he says, amused and smirking. She rolls her eyes.

“I did Blogilates yesterday before I left for set which was, by the way, the dumbest idea ever. She had us do calf raises for like, 10 minutes. I can barely walk up a set of stairs,” Lilly grumbles, closing her thighs against him encouragingly, jutting her chin at him to suggest he continue.

Shawn lowers to sit on his feet and spreads her legs, wrapping his broad palms and wiry fingers almost all the way around her calf muscles. He runs his hands up and down gently at first, feeling her out without exerting pressure. She watches him with a quiet smile. He’s looking down at her legs, marveling at how solid and good she feels in his hands. He glances up and blushes under her gaze. He squeezes his grip around her ankles affectionately and pulls his hands back up toward her knees, kneading smoothly as he goes.

Her head falls back and her eyes shut. She moans again, giggling at herself. He’s strategic about it, rhythmic even in the way he massages her legs. She loves it. He spreads his fingers wider and bears down a little harder. He’s entranced by the sounds she’s making and seeks them out.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good,” she sighs. He laughs again. She opens her bleary eyes to see him pink-cheeked and staring at her.

“You’re turning me on a little,” he admits with a shrug, smiling shyly like he’s not sure if it’s ok to say out loud. Her stomach flips. She sits up and slides her legs out of his grip to wrap them around his waist and tug him against her.

“I missed you,” she tells him, propped up on tented fingers with her legs latched around his waist like she’s afraid he’ll leave if she lets him go. He cups her cheeks in those big, beautiful hands and brings his lips down so gently she barely feels it.

“You just missed my hands,” he teases, pecking her lower lip and pulling away, unwrapping himself from her legs reluctantly. She curls up without him, watching as he digs through his bag for a change of clothes. He grabs her spare towel and points up the stairs.

“Roommates home?”

She shrugs. “Probably a couple. Think Emily’s upstairs watching Gossip Girl. Avoid her if you don’t want a speech about Chuck Bass being an indefensible character from the pilot episode,” she advises.

He nods solemnly and disappears. Fifteen minutes later, he’s slouching back into her room, ditching the t-shirt and sweatpants he’s just changed into for the walk back downstairs from the bathroom. She smiles into her pillow, pleased he’s not starting down the path of complaining about how hot her room always is. He’s too tired.

In Under Armour boxer briefs, he crawls over her on the bed and starfishes, spreading his limbs and laying all his weight on her, snuffling into her hair. She grunts and shifts under him, playing along because she doesn’t mind how heavy he is. At least he’s here. She kisses his neck as he burrows his face into her pillow.

She splits into a cheesy grin against his shoulder. He feels her teeth against his skin and lifts his head, looking dozy and confused. “What?”

“You smell like me,” she laughs, lifting her nose to his hair. Strawberries and mint, just like hers. It’s delightful.

“I like smelling like you,” he whispers, too exhausted to be self-conscious. She fastens a hand into his curls and wraps an arm across his warm, still damp back, rolling him off her to his side. He takes the hint and adjusts them so he’s on his back and her head is tucked in against his shoulder, their legs tangled on top of the sheets. He runs his fingers through her hair all the way down her back until she falls asleep. He follows soon after.

Almost two hours later, Shawn blinks awake. They’re in exactly the same spot they fell asleep in, frozen in time. He cracks his neck and shifts her away just long enough to lift and turn her onto her side and cuddle up against her back. The jostling wakes her up, which wasn’t exactly an accident on his part. He misses her.

“Hey,” she murmurs, voice crackly with sleep. She lifts a hand to pat the arm he’s slung around her body and scoots back a little more firmly against his chest. She likes feeling surrounded by him.

“Mmm, my little cuttlefish.”

Lilly’s eyes open. Shawn enjoys teasing her with weird nicknames. As long as he doesn’t use them while they’re having sex, she doesn’t mind. But this one is weirder than usual.

“Did you just call me a cuttlefish?”

“Yep,” he mutters into her neck, rubbing his nose against the downy hairs at the nape.

“Have you ever seen a cuttlefish?”

“No. Is it cuddly?”

Lilly bursts into giggles. “You are so fucking cute. Cuttlefish are terrifying. They’re cephalopods. They look like freaky squids.”

“Not cuddly,” he murmurs, voice muffled, “Should change the name, then.”

She closes her eyes, unwilling to continue this bizarre line of conversation. She settles back into him, wondering if she’ll drift off again.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

She turns over to see what he’s yelping about. He’s staring wide-eyed at his phone, eyebrows pulled together, looking horrified.

“I just googled cuttlefish! This thing is gross! It doesn’t look like a fish at all!” He flips the phone around to show her. She squints at the screen before she takes his phone away and puts it on the night table.

“No cuttlefish in bed. New rule.”

Shawn smiles and pulls her in by her hips. “Any other bedroom rules I should know about?” He runs his lips along her hairline as she plants kisses down his jaw.

“You have to kiss me when we wake up together even if we have morning breath,” she whispers into the skin below his ear. He smells even more like her now that he’s been lying in her bed. It’s getting her a little carnal and territorial. His hands come to rest on her lower back under her shirt as she mouths at him.

“Ok,” he breathes, sounding a little worked up himself. He nudges her legs apart to slide one of his between them. He pulls her so she’s lying underneath him again, enclosed in him like she likes.

“Anything else?” he pants.

“Yeah. Nap dates are now part of the regular routine, mmk?”

Shawn lowers himself carefully around her until he’s flat against her torso and his nose is brushing against hers. “I love nap dates. All of our dates should be nap dates.”

“But what about movie dates? And sushi dates? And beach dates and pool dates? And ice skating dates? And—”

He plants his lips against hers firmly, laughing into her mouth. She grins back and their teeth clash but they don’t care.

“Any kind of dates you want, sweetheart.”

They make out like teenagers for a while, copping feels and moaning, whispering conversations about nothing before they’re both exhausted again. This time, she slots up against his back and holds him against her chest because she knows he likes to be the little spoon sometimes but never wants to ask.

He’s wriggling as he searches for sleep. She’s desperately trying to ignore his restlessness.

“Lilly, it’s always so hot in your room, goddamnit.”

She rolls her eyes and buries her face in his back, kicking feebly at his legs, trying to pin him down to submit to her.

“Stop moving or I’ll get the cuttlefish.”

He giggles and complies. They fall asleep again and dream of anything but cephalopods.

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @smallerinfinities @crapri @stillinskislydia @abigfatmess @heavenly—holland

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff

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mindingmyownbusiness · 6 years

Text

Duet

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader Prompt - “I love it when you sing.” Summary - You’ve just figured out that the mysterious voice you hear singing through the vents is none other than the Winter Soldier himself. Now the only question is, what do you do with this newfound information? Warnings - n/a, just adorable fluff, it’s sorta my thang Word Count - 3026 Notes - Written for @true-queen-of-mischief and her 600 follower writing challenge, congratulations! I know this is hella late, it’s 100% my fault, thank you for being patient, I hope it’s worth it! Song lyrics pulled from “Wanted Dead Or Alive” by Bon Jovi, “Death of a Bachelor” by Panic! At The Disco, “Baby it’s Cold Outside” by Frank Loesser, and Dirty Dancing’s “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life”.

My Masterlist

Stripping off the last of your combat gear with an exaggerated groan you tossed it in the corner of your bathroom on top of an embarrassingly large pile of dirty clothes. Guess I know how I’ll be spending my weekend. You started the shower, setting it as hot as you could stand and spent several minutes just letting the heat and the steam relax your tired muscles. Note to self: thank Tony for the endless supply of hot water in this place. You grudgingly went through the motions of washing the last remnants of the mission from your skin and hair, more eager than ever to collapse into the comfort of your bed.

Shutting off the water you reached for your towel, the details of the mission swimming through your mind. You started absentmindedly humming along with the singing coming from… wait, singing..? I didn’t… where is that coming from…?

It's all the same, only the names will change Everyday, it seems we're wastin' away... Another place, where the faces are so cold, I drive all night, just to get back home

I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride I'm wanted, dead or alive Wanted.. dead or alive

Looking around for the source of the sound you quickly realized it was coming from the vents. Wow, whoever that is they are really good. You smiled to yourself, listening until the voice gradually faded away. Looks like someone on the team has a hidden talent. But who…?

It didn’t take long to figure out, especially with FRIDAY’s helpful assistance. With your room being at the far end of the floor your bathroom and the bathroom for the person across the hall were positioned right next to each other, much closer in proximity than anyone else’s. It had to be him. Freaking Bucky Barnes. You felt your cheeks warm just at the thought of him. There was no denying you harbored an attraction for the supersoldier. Strong, protective, a gentleman, and now I find out the man can sing? Is there anything he can’t do? Sighing you flopped down across your bed, Bucky’s crooning voice filling your thoughts as exhaustion finally claimed you and you fell fast asleep.

Training had been super intense that morning. You appreciated the new moves Nat was teaching you but that didn’t make your muscles hurt any less. Desperate for a shower you decided to skip breakfast and just grab a snack instead before heading to your room. As you entered the kitchen you saw Bucky rummaging around in the fridge, humming quietly to himself.

“Hey Barnes, toss me a bottle of water?” Grabbing an energy bar from the pantry you turned and saw that Bucky hadn’t moved. “Buck?” Still nothing. You raised your voice slightly. “Bucky!” Is he ignoring me or what? After a moment of hesitation you stepped close enough to poke him in his ribs causing him to jump and hit his head against the fridge door.

“Dammit! What the hell..?” He gingerly rubbed the back of his head with his flesh hand and yanked out his earbuds with the other. “You know (Y/N), it’s never a good idea to sneak up on an assassin. Not if you value life and limb.” He was trying his best to hold a serious face but you could see just a hint of a smirk edging in.

“And here I thought it was impossible to sneak up on you. I would say my skills are improving but that would be a lie.” You smiled apologetically, gesturing towards his earbuds which were still pumping out the faint strains of something. “Sounds like maybe you were really into whatever you were listening to…?”

“Huh? Oh, right…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and paused the music. “Yeah, Shuri set me up with this music app and Steve and Sam have been making some suggestions. Just trying to get caught up ya know.” He shrugged his shoulders, scrolling through his playlists.

“Hey, um I have that app too... If you want I could share some playlists with you?” You bit your lip feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Ah.. yeah, yeah I’d like that.” Bucky handed you his phone with a small smile and you made sure the two of you were connected through the app.

“I’ll see what I can put together for you then.” You grabbed your stuff and headed for the door, smiling like crazy once you rounded the corner on your way to your room and a much needed hot shower.

A few minutes and several gallons of water later you heard it again, the beautiful baritone of a certain handsome brunette floating out of the vents...

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face, People have told me I don't look the same... Maybe I lost weight, I'm playing hooky with the best of the best, Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too

A girl could get used to this. You grinned, taking your time drying off so you could enjoy every single note.

I shouldn’t feel weird, right? Just because I’m actively trying to figure out when Bucky is going to be showering so I can eavesdrop on him singing? Hahaha, that’s not creepy at ALL. You groaned and buried your face in your hands at the breakfast table. This was an argument you’ve been having with yourself for weeks. It was almost as if you’d become addicted to his voice, the more you listened the more you wanted and if you were being honest with yourself, the more you listened the more you wished he was singing to you.. for you. And it had only gotten worse when he started singing songs from the playlists you’d been sending him. I swear if he sings Shawn Mendes again I’m gonna need a cold shower to follow my regular shower.

“Hey (Y/N), you ready for our run?” Thankful that your mental conflict was interrupted by the Captain you nodded your head and hopped up to do a few stretches. For once you were looking forward to a good run. The days had finally started to turn cooler and there was just something about fall transitioning into winter that excited you and made you want to get out in it. Way more motivating than running in hundred degree heat for sure, not that Steve noticed with all the supersoldier benefits he ended up with. “Good. Bucky and Sam are gonna meet us downstairs.”

Cool weather and a rear view of the Winter Soldier? Now that’s something I can get behind. You giggled quietly to yourself, earning a curious glance from Steve as you entered the elevator. “Just um, something funny Nat told me earlier. You know her, so funny…” You smiled weakly and cringed inwardly but fortunately Steve was distracted by your arrival at the ground floor. The four of you exchanged brief good mornings, not wasting any time before you literally hit the ground running. You and Sam paired off behind Steve and Bucky, soon finding your groove, laughing together every time you got lapped by Steve on Sam’s left and Bucky on your right. After about an hour of this you and Sam headed back to the tower to hit the showers. As you stepped into your bathroom you couldn’t help but smile thinking of how by the time you were done Bucky would surely be starting his own shower and you couldn’t wait to hear his song choice today.

Wrapping your towel around you, you paused, sure you had heard something... but no. Great, now my mind has decided to play tricks on me. Shaking your head you turned to head back into your room but you just couldn’t stop yourself from gravitating back towards the vent, leaning against the wall just under the opening. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the smooth surface. What are you doing (Y/N)… just go get ready already, he’s probably not even in… there…? Your face slowly morphed from a mask of frustration into one of absolute awe as the first strains of one of your favorite songs of all time floated through the vent and into your ears.

Hmm-mm-mm-mm... Baby it's cold outside, Hmm-mm-mm-mm... But baby it's cold outside, Hmm-mm-mm-mm-mm... Been hoping you'd drop in, Hmm-mm-mm-mm... I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice…

You slowly slid down the wall, sitting on the floor and smiling wider than you had in quite awhile, humming along at first but slowly slipping into the lyrics with practiced ease:

(My mother will start to worry) Beautiful, what’s your hurry, (My father will be pacing the floor) Listen to the fireplace roar, (So really I'd better scurry) Beautiful please don't hurry, (Well maybe just a half a drink more) Put some records on while I pour…

Getting lost in the music you imagined what it would be like for you to be singing with Bucky for real, in person. You could see it so clearly, you and Bucky, bundled up together in a nest of blankets and pillows in front of a roaring fire while snow fell outside. What I wouldn’t give… You smiled at how easily your voices fit together, your volume gradually increasing as you got more and more into the song:

(The neighbors might think) Baby it's bad out there, (Say what's in this drink) No cabs to be had out there, (I wish I knew how) Your eyes are like starlight now, (To break this spell) I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell, (I ought to say no no) Mind if I move in closer, (At least I'm going to say I tried) What's the sense of hurting my pride, (I really can't stay) Baby don't hold out, Baby it's cold outside!

Your eyes flew open and you froze, suddenly realizing that your voice was the only one singing that last line. Oh no no no no… Scrambling to your feet you held your breath, listening for any sound that might reassure you that Bucky didn’t hear you but you were only met with silence. You cursed inwardly, wringing your hands and pacing around your room. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t know it’s me? You groaned out loud. Oh who am I kidding he’s totally gonna figure it out. Okay, okay... let’s not get hysterical now, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You took a deep breath only to release another defeated groan. Well he could be super pissed and never speak to me again. Okay, yeah that pretty much sucks.

Completely wrapped up in your thoughts you barely registered the persistent knocking at your door, absently crossing the room to open it. “Alright, alright I’m coming! Seriously can’t a girl go through a crisis in peace…?” That last word died on your lips and was followed by what could only be described as a very undignified squeak as your eyes took in the sight of one James Buchanan Barnes, slightly out of breath and standing in your doorway. He was shirtless and wearing Jesus take the wheel only a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still wet, wet enough that drops were randomly falling onto his very muscular and did I already mention this well let me say it again very naked chest, lazily travelling the length of his torso down past his abs to… SNAP OUT OF IT WOMAN! Quit being a perv and look at his face!

Meeting his eyes you felt the butterflies in your tummy start to churn. “B-Bucky..? Hey, um what are you--?”

“That was you, wasn’t it?” His words rushed out at you, tinged with just enough of a sense of urgency to kick those butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“I, um, what do you, I-I mean what are you talking about?” Your efforts at keeping the nervousness out of your voice were failing and you couldn’t stop your fingers from fidgeting.

Bucky took a second to look down the hallway then stepped into your room, lowering his voice. “Just now?” Your attempt at a clueless face only made him roll his eyes. “Singing, in the shower? That was you, right?”

You swallowed nervously, looking away as you realized it was pointless to keep trying to deny it. You nodded slightly, your worry bleeding into your voice now. “Are.. are you mad at me? I-I haven’t told anyone I swear!”

He shook his head slightly, rubbing his hand over his face with a sigh, “Geez doll, no... I’m not mad, I’m not... I don’t know what I am…”

Now that the truth was out your word vomit just kept coming. “I just.. I love it when you sing. You sound so good and you know the words to like everything and---”

“Wait…” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “ Exactly how long have you been listening to me sing in the shower?”

You cringed but it was too late now. “Um… a few months?” Bucky just stared at you with his mouth hanging open. “I know, I know, I should have said something and now that it’s all coming out I realize I totally invaded your privacy but.. ugh what was I supposed to do? Barge over there and tell you to stop? Now that, that would be the real crime.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say doll, nobody was ever supposed to hear me anyway.”

“Are you kidding? Bucky you are amazing, like super talented. Four chair turn on The Voice good, I swear!” Before you could talk yourself out of it you reached up to cup his jaw, gently turning his head so his eyes met yours. “Hey, music is obviously a part of you. I get that you’re not ready to share it with everyone and I respect that. But… I’m not gonna apologize for not saying something. I meant what I said, I love it when you sing.”

“Well.. thanks, doll.” Smiling down at you Bucky leaned in for a hug but immediately jumped back, looking you up and down as if just now realizing that both of you were barely covered. “Holy hell doll you, you’re just in a… and I’m only… I, uh..” He was getting more and more flustered by the second and it was all you could do to suppress your giggles.

“Wow... I didn’t know a blush could go that far Barnes. Eyes up here, soldier.” Bucky’s eyes shot back up to yours, wide as saucers and his body super tense like he might dart any second. “Relax Buck, it’s fine, promise. Listen, how about we both put more clothes on and you let me take you out to lunch as my way of making amends. We can even go to that diner you’ve been dying to try. Deal?”

It took him a second but to your relief he relaxed, that lopsided smile that you loved finally making an appearance. “Deal, but I’m driving.”

“So karaoke night, huh? What brought this on (Y/N)?” Natasha slid into the seat next to you as the crowd erupted in cheers for Tony’s rendition of The Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go”.

“Come on, do I really need a reason to plan a night out with my friends?” You bumped Nat’s shoulder and she smiled at you over her drink. “Plus, who doesn’t love karaoke? I mean, you can’t let a little thing like total humiliation get in the way of having a good time.”

“I’m all in,” Sam shouted from across the table. “It’s been way too long since we all got together outside of a world ending event. Heck, you even got Barnes to leave the tower for once. Where is he anyway? Don’t tell me he’s skipped out early.”

Before you can answer the music for the next singer starts. Everyone’s attention is turned back toward the stage where a tall, muscular man is sitting on a stool. A curtain of hair is obscuring most of his face and a distinctive metal arm is glinting in the spotlight.

Now I've, had the time of my life, No I’ve never felt like this before. Yes I swear, it's the truth, And I owe it all to you--

“Holy sh--” Sam looks at you, then back to the stage, then back to you, his mouth trying to form words but failing.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, birdman.” Grinning like the cat that got the cream you patted him on the cheek. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe that’s my cue.”

'Cause I've, had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you...

Bucky takes your hand, helping you onstage then kissing your knuckles with a wink and a smile.

I've been waiting for so long, Now I've finally found someone to stand by me.

We saw the writing on the wall, As we felt this magical fantasy.

Now with passion in our eyes, There's no way we could disguise it secretly. So we take each other's hand, 'Cause we seem to understand the urgency

Being up there with Bucky, singing your heart out, you swore you’d never been happier. And you were so glad you finally convinced him that this was the perfect way to tell everyone that you were officially together.

Just remember You're the one thing, I can't get enough of So I'll tell you something, This could be love Because I've, had the time of my life, No I never felt this way before. Yes I swear, it's the truth, and I owe it all to you…

As the song ended Bucky pulled you into his arms, kissing you breathless until the whoops and hollering from your friends and teammates had you both laughing too hard to continue. “I love you, doll,” Bucky pressed his forehead to yours, grinning from ear to ear.

“I love you too, partner,” you kissed him once more before dragging him off the stage and over to where everyone was impatiently waiting to congratulate you both.

Taggy tag tags: @dianelogan @bucky-plums-barnes @buckyywiththegoodhair @cate-lynne @avengerofyourheart @sebspocketsquare @sgtbxckybxrnes @bionic-buckyb @plumfondler @imaginingbucky @sexonastickstan @angryschnauzer @witchymarvelspacecase @palaiasaurus64 @eyecandybarnes @promarvelfangirl @the-observant-fangirl @ballyhoobarnes @trinityjadec @kjs-s @sebbytrash @idreaminpaint @true-queen-of-mischief @buckthegrump @moondancewrites @thisisjamesbarnes @beccaanne814 @oneshot-shit

#my fic #bucky barnes x reader #karaoke #fluff #bucky barnes fluff

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dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt · 5 years

Note

Even numbers. Fuck you 💙

:’) 🖕💙

Under the cut… oh my god… lord give me strength… if any of y’all wanna get to know me… read this monster X’D

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

I think a bit of both?? I’m the type of person who’d willingly get lost in a strange city but also suddenly develop a stutter when I try to communicate with my fellow humans. :)

4. Are you easy to get along with?

lmao no.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Kind ones. Who can tolerate me.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

An ex friend/abuser atm. :))))

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

What qualifies as deep?? I guess, my Dad?? Maybe??

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Dodie Clark - Monster

Easy Life - Pockets

Lorde - Buzzcut Season

Zack Hemsey - The Way

Fits and the Tantrums - Roll Up

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Yeah, I think so?

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I kissed my Mum on the top of her head. So, yes. XD

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

That would be Jesse. So, yes. Hope he doesn’t find this blog yikes. X’D

20. Do you like your neighbors?

Yes on one side. No on the other side.

22. Where would you like to travel?

America firstly. Then all over the place to visit other friends. I promised my Mum I’d take her to San Francisco one day, so I gotta keep that promise.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

PETS :DDDDD

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Try my best not to murder anyone while I get my cup of tea liquid life ready. XD Say hi to doggos and beep babies. Check to see if any of my friends need me urgently. Then eat toast.

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My pets. My parents. My friends.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

I really don’t mind getting married or living in sin. XD It would depend entirely on what my partner wanted, I’d do whatever would make them happy.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

No one. Guess you could say I’m demisexual.

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Does horseback riding count?? I’ve dabbled in a bit of cricket. But my lungs don’t like intensive exercising, especially cardio stuff.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Story of my life, every single time. I’ve never told anyone I liked them. I’d rather die than make them feel bad or uncomfortable bc I know they don’t feel the same way.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

At the moment all I can think of is my crush lmao. :’)

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Absolutely nothing bc I’m a dropout. XD Be a completely self-taught author, hopefully.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

Online, I’m probably just really tired and don’t have the energy to be upbeat and/or talk to people. In real life, it’s nothing abnormal; I hate my voice so I don’t talk much and I like quiet. If I’m not using a bunch of emojis (you know how I normally do) when I’m talking, you know I’m either being super serious, or I’m pissed off, or both.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

NEITHER YIKES I LIKE MY SOLID EARTH THANK U VERY MUCH

46. What are you paranoid about?

Being annoying.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Nope. Not really planning on it, either. I’m kind of curious as to how I’d be, though. Like I have deep-rooted buried anger issues so I might be angry, but I’m also depressed so I might be a puddle of tears and sadness, BUT my personality is v energetic and happy so… who knows, dude. X’D

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Blue and grey. It has “yo” on the hood. :D

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

Biologically male. please.

54. Favourite store?

?? don’t have one.

56. Favourite colour?

Navy or a kind of dark aqua-navy kind of colour, like a bit of a green tinge as well? I’m also really fond of yellow too.

58. Last thing you ate?

LEFTOVER HAMBURGER AND IT WAS DELICIOUS I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVED HAMBURGERS!!!!!!1!!

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

Yeah, dog training competition with our German Shepherd when I was 11.

62. Been arrested? For what?

No yet lmao.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

I’ll be sure to tell you about it when it happens. XD

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

I don’t have any irl friends so… HELL YEAH!!

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr. Obviously.

70. Names of your bestfriends?

I could literally just list all my Tumblr friends here. I’ve learnt not to get specifically close to any one or two persons. So… all my beans!!! Love you!!

72. What colour are your towels?

Blue! :D I was forced to use the pink towels in the set when I was little and not out as trans so now I surround myself in all the gendered blue bullshit X’D

74. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

….. maaayyyybbbeee.

76. Favourite animal?

D O G

78:Chocolate or Vanilla?

Neither.

80. What colour shirt are you wearing?

It’s my very yellow button down!! :D

82. Favourite tv show?

S E N S E 8

84. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Never seen either oops.

86. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

88. First person you talked to today?

Enna aka Cinnamonpuff aka steverogershield

90. Name a person you hate?

My brother, Mackenzie. :)

92. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Anyone who mistreats animals.

94.How many sweatpants do you have?

I rarely wear anything but sweatpants, so I have 8. THEY’RE COMFY OKAY. And since it’s usually cold or hot here with no real warm in between, I’m either wearing shorts or sweatpants. It’s only in the rare in-between weather (like now) that I wear my jeans.

96. Last movie you watched?

Can’t remember. I watched the first season of Jessica Jones tho, so… show instead of movie. XD

98.Favourite actor?

TERRY CREWS

100. Have any pets?

YES!!! 3 dogs (one German Shepherd named Ria, a Whippet named Granger, and a mutt named Maude), 3 chickens (Haymitch the black one, Cinna the dark brown one, Effie the pale brown one) and 2 ducks (Peeta and Katniss.) THEY’RE MY BABIES AND I’D DIE FOR THEM!!! :’D

102. Do you type fast?

LMAO APPARENTLY I DO??? My Dad thinks I must type gibberish and makes me type out what he says because he doesn’t think I can type that fast. I only type with 2 fingers normally too. X’D

104. Can you spell well?

w e l l (idk. maybe.)

106. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yup.

108. Have you ever been on a horse?

Many times. I LOVE them SO MUCH.

110. Is something irritating you right now?

Yeah.

112. Do you have trust issues?

No. *insert canned audience laughter here* Yes, I do. Big time. Just bc I’m friendly doesn’t mean I trust anyone.

114. What was your childhood nickname?

Matt, actually!! :D

116. Do you play the Wii?

Used to, now I don’t have one anymore and it wasn’t my favourite console.

118.Do you like chicken noodle soup?

Y E S. GIMME!!!!!! :D

120.Favourite book?

Bird by Crystal Chan.

122.Are you mean?

I think I definitely can be very cutting when I lose my temper. But I haven’t done that in years now and I try very hard to be a good person. Luckily my first reaction is normally hurt, so by the time the anger kicks in I normally try and get out of the situation before I can say something harsh.

124.Can you keep white shoes clean?

NOPE. I can never keep anything clean, probably why I like dark colours so much. I literally do not own any white clothes anymore because they always get stained within a few hours of me wearing them asdfghjkl. 😅

126.Do you believe in true love?

Kind of. I believe that no relationship is ever perfect, but if people gel well and COMMUNICATE OFTEN AND HONESTLY the relationship can be amazing. I guess it’s its own kind of perfect relationship. I definitely think there’s people you get along brilliantly with, better than anyone else. There’s somebody in the world for everyone! :D

128.What makes you happy?

Animals. My friends. My OCs. :’)

130.What your zodiac sign?

Pisces!! I definitely think I’ve grown into it over time. X’D

132. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

??? depends on whether I like them back or not, obviously. If I do, I’ll probably scream for a solid week and then decide if I want to drag them into my mountain of bullshit with a relationship, or leave it be. If I don’t, let them down as gently as I can. Also I’m a raging bi, so gender wouldn’t matter. :P

134.Favourite lyrics right now?

My all-time favourite lyrics are from The Judge by Twenty one Pilots:

“When the leader of the bad guys sangSomething soft and soaked in painI heard the echo from his secret hideawayHe must’ve forgot to close his doorAs he cranked out those dismal chordsAnd his four walls declared him insane”

136.Dumbest lie you ever told?

“Did you let Haymitch jump on your back again?”

“Uh… noooo.”

“Then why do you have massive scratches in the clear shape of chicken feet on your back?”

“UHHHHHH-”

i”M A HUFFLEPUFF OKAY I’M NOT GOOD AT LYING X’D

128.How tall are you?

I’m not.

140.Brunette or Blonde?

Like, people I’m attracted to, or for me? I honestly don’t care attraction wise. For me, I guess brunette bc I think I look really weird with pale hair lmao.

142.Night or Day?

NIGHT. Dear god, night.

144.Are you a vegetarian?

NOPE. Honestly think I’d go insane if I didn’t eat meat. XD I mean, I would if I had to, but I’d really prefer not to.

146.Tea or Coffee?

TEA. I hate coffee, I’ll leave that to other people. XD

148.Mars or Snickers?

SNICKERS. Mars are good but… Snickers!!!!

150. Do you believe in ghosts?

Hell fucking yes you bet I do pal!!!!!!

#I love you so much #you asshole #X'D #<3 #BUDDY :D #asks #Matt speaks #about me #get to know me #yike #alex--blue #thank youuu

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negare-boshi · 6 years

Text

HQ!! Secret Santa: Daisuga for Becca

Ho, ho, ho! @sugakoush Merry Christmas! This is a whole lot of Daisuga fluff with just a small spoon of angsty angst because I don’t know how to write things otherwise. Nevertheless, I hope you like it and you enjoy it!

// this was organized by @haikyuusecretsanta // my main blog: @ellehletoile

Title: Home Sweet Home Pairing: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi Word count: 8K Rating: G Potential Trigger Warnings: Fluff overdose.

// AO3 link //

(I do apologise for any and all of the grammar mistakes this could contain!)

HOME SWEET HOME

The problem was the smell.

Of course there were other factors that had brought Daichi to this point in life, in which he wasn’t sure why he was gritting his teeth to the point of splinter. But when he lay on his bed with a frown and a heavy hollowness on his chest, the only thing that stood out was the damn smell.

The other things didn’t stood out as much, because the pile of reasons Daichi felt as heavy as he felt light weren’t as tangible. They weren’t around all the time, they were just pieces here and there: Suga wearing an awful arpon his mom gave him on Christmas and smirking at Daichi with a spoon at hand. Daichi trying to fight for his right to hold the TV’s control and winning, although Suga chose what they were watching, because Daichi was weak. The waves of companionship when Daichi got back from work, exhausted and tired and somehow lonely, and Suga being there on his computer. Like a candle in the middle of a storm, a lighthouse bringing Daichi back home.

Those made of Daichi’s chest a weird, confused mess of giggles and clenched lungs that gave him problems to breathe more times than not, but only when he was actively thinking of them. Daichi could close his eyes and breathe deeply and the memories of his hard, choking crush would dissolve for a little bit.

That is, if it weren’t for the damn smell. That soft lemon scent Suga had bought when they moved in, the mix of flowery soap they washed their clothes with, the small and yet unique tint of fresh air and leather Daichi had discovered belonged to Suga himself. It was like a film surrounding the oxygen of the apartment, and no matter where Daichi sat or lay or step on, it was always there.

Daichi’d started to call that smell home, and every time the thought crossed his mind he’d freeze mid step, suddenly hit by the realisation of his own overwhelming emotions.

Gods, he had it hard. Hard enough to blush when Suga came out of the shower, the mist of the hot water smelling of his shampoo and his clean body and it wasn’t even about Suga being naked under that towel every dang time, no. It was about Daichi stopping suddenly and willingly, watching blankly into nothingness, letting the breeze fill every particle of their apartment with Suga’s essence. As if Suga weren’t already everywhere.

It seemed impossible for a crush, —an infatuation, a yearning so huge Daichi couldn’t even put a name on it,— to last this long, and yet, here they were. Almost three years of housemates and Daichi’s feelings didn’t look like they’d cool off anytime soon.

“Daichi, I got us dinner.” Daichi had to blink thrice to the entrance, where Suga was fighting against his rain boots with his tongue between his lips. “It’s sushi.”

“Are we celebrating?” Daichi had to clear his throat, the tight knot of unexpressed want as choking as it was welcome. At least the distraction would keep him from staring way too long.

Suga smiled. Daichi’s heart did a backflip, a tango step and then fell on the ground with dramatic exaggeration. Still pretending to be dead it beat like a horse raising free through an infinite field, and it wasn’t until Suga got into the kitchen and started unpacking their dinner that it calmed enough for Daichi to go help him.

“So?”

“Not really celebrating.” Suga smirked up at him and Daichi smiled back, because one didn’t just watched Suga with that expression without answering it somehow. The urge to lean forward and kiss that smile was like silk on Daichi’s mouth. Suga’s eyes flickered with something, and Daichi teared his gaze away, suddenly shy. “I had a really nice day at work. Thought we could enjoy a fancy, —don’t look at me like that, it’s cheap—, shared dinner so the day finishes as good as it’s gone.”

“I’m glad you had a nice day.” Daichi beamed, chest and cheeks filled with warmth and joy. Hearing Suga’d had a good day brightened his, and Daichi fell another step into the deep pit of unrequited love. “You were able to pass that project you were working on?”

Suga’s smile could light up Japan on its whole.

“Yes! My new partner and I made it through this morning, and it was great! I’m really excited about it. The next months are gonna be pretty insane, so…” Suga shrugged, the soft line of his shoulders raising gracefully. Daichi wanted to reach for his neck and inhale the smell that had branded his mind and his soul, but instead he let his smile turn into something tenderer and softer. Suga’s own smile changed in sync, matching Daichi’s. “I thought we could have a good dinner together, ‘cause I don’t know when we’ll be able to do this again.”

Those words strung something in Daichi. It was filthy and heavy and it tasted fool, and it probably showed on his tugged lips because Suga send his way an apologetic smile in return. “Yeah, sorry. I promise it’s only for a little while.”

“It’s totally okay.” Daichi patted his arm, trying to break the odd tension on his shoulder, but only making it worse. Suga arched an eyebrow, aware of the awkwardness of Daichi’s actions, and Daichi found himself laughing shallowly. “I’m serious. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise to me.”

“But it’s our rule,” Suga pointed out slowly, as if testing Daichi. Daichi didn’t want to react to him, but his shoulders stiffened at the choice of words. “I like having dinner with you every night.”

“Oh, come on, Suga. Don’t be dramatic.” Trying to run away from Suga’s sharp gaze, Daichi turned around and took the sushi containers. “It’s not gonna be that long, and anyway, you’re entitled to have your life. Why would I complain?”

Yeah, Daichi, why would you.

Daichi wanted to complain.

But he didn’t.

Daichi wanted to crawl into Suga’s bed every night and wait for him and snuggle against his body and then fall asleep knowing at least they had that.

But he didn’t.

What he did was cook. What he did was prepare Suga bentos and buy him coffee and energy drinks he left around with post-its.

I hope you have a good day.

Don’t forget to eat.

Take care today and take an umbrella; it’s gonna rain.

I washed your clothes.

Be safe going back home tonight; and eat!

Daichi never wrote, I miss you, but he felt it was unnecessary. If Suga hadn’t realised through Daichi’s dumb post-its and his stupid caring tips, then it was pointless to tell him anyway.

Daichi held it together the first three weeks, because he was an adult and he had restrain and because his mind understood what his heart failed to see: Suga was, under no circumstances, forced to humour Daichi by sharing the small free time he had with him, if he even had free time at all. Daichi’s brain got the memo.

His heart didn’t.

At the end of the first month Daichi was so desperate for a bit of Suga he actually started delaying his own sleep, on the hopes he’d catch Suga when he got home back from work, each day later than the day before. The fact he could barely stay awake past twelve was bad, but it was even worse to wake up every morning with a blanket that smelled like Suga and with no trace of Suga on their damn apartment.

Daichi was going insane. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have work, because he did. But Daichi’s workday ended at six, leaving him with a ton of hours he had to fill out of his own apartment because, damn his sharp nose, he couldn’t spend more time in a house where Suga was so present in his absence.

That’s when the complaints started.

“It’s just—” Daichi frowned down at his beer, Kuroo and Bokuto both watching him in silent attention. “He’s never there anymore.”

“Well,” Kuroo chewed softly, as if Daichi would break if he spoke a bit louder. “You guys aren’t together. You can’t actually ask him to stay more.”

“That’s not what I want and of course I won’t say a thing.”

“Or you could,” Bokuto hummed as if his own thoughts were now just falling into his hands and he were seeing them for the first time. “I mean, you could tell him how you feel.”

Daichi blushed. He blushed so hard he actually saw the skin on the back of his hands get shamefully red. Kuroo chuckled, obviously delighted by Daichi’s unspoken crush. Bokuto just smiled kindly at him.

“I won’t.”

“You could tell him as a friend. I tell Kuroo all the time when I wanna hang out more.”

“You always tell me you wanna hang out more,” Kuroo retorted with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s because you never wanna hang out.”

Daichi’s stomach lightened at their quivering, known and safe land he was happy to step on. He was ashamed of his own complaints, of his own emotions. The project Suga was working on had been the most important of his career so far, and Daichi resented himself for not being able to show him the support he deserved. The support Daichi was eager to give him, but too petty to actually express.

“Anyway,” Kuroo hit Bokuto’s arm, who gaped at him, offended. “You okay?”

“It just sucks,” Daichi mustered, because as much as he hated feeling like this, he hated even more to swallow his own emotions. He wanted to smile and play it off, and he did, the small times he crossed words with Suga. But in Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s company he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He didn’t want to. “It sucks even more because I’m not able to tell him how I feel. And I never will.”

“Well, Drama Queen, chill.” Kuroo pushed the beer into Daichi’s hands. “Just get over these months and we will talk again about you confessing your beautiful, teen-ish crush when Suga’s back into a normal, living human’s schedule.”

Some weeks later, Daichi got home past twelve. Kuroo had gotten tickets for a techno concert, and although it wasn’t really Daichi’s sort of music, it had been nice to go out and get wasted and dance and sweat his desperation out.

For a little while Daichi’d been able to actually forget his heart was numb and pinning.

The lights told Daichi something was wrong as soon as he stepped inside, Suga’s working shoes thrown on the side of the entrance step.

“Suga?”

Daichi rushed through the corridor till the couch, where Suga was lying pale and shivery. Even from the distance Daichi could see sweat covering his silky skin, and he didn’t need to put his hand on Suga’s forehead to know he had a fever.

He did anyway.

“Daichi?”

“Hey,” Daichi said softly, going on his knees beside Suga. “What happened? Did you take something?”

“I’m just tired.” Suga tried to smile, but his chipped lips couldn’t shape it properly. “I’ve been working a bit too much, I think.”

“You think.” Daichi could hear the sharp edge of his voice. He didn’t want to be mad. He wasn’t even mad at Suga, but worry had its claws on his throat and his lungs, and Daichi couldn’t think properly. “You are barely home, you barely eat and you barely sleep. You always get here late and wake up earlier than me. And I go for a run every morning at six thirty.”

Suga blinked at him, his glassy eyes unfocused and feverish and Daichi felt like a dickhead, admonishing a sick person. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s ‘kay.” Suga did smile this time, soft and a bit shaky, but a smile nonetheless. Daichi’s breath caught on his lungs and he had to use iron restrain to stop himself from kissing him. “It’s nice to see you so worried you actually get mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I know.”

Daichi sighed loudly and, thoughtless, caressed Suga’s cheek. He pretended he was washing the sweat there, checking his temperature, but he was sure the way his eyes avoided Suga’s hazy ones was telling enough. “I’m gonna go to the conbini to buy you some medicine.”

“Don’t leave me yet.”

What a low hit. Daichi huffed soundly, pissed at his own weakness, and Suga snuggled onto the pillow, pushing his face closer to Daichi’s. “Thanks for all the food and things you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome.” Daichi fell on his side and let his temple rest near Suga’s hands. Suga watched down at him, that peaceful smile still playing on his lips. “You really should take something for that fever. And drink water.”

“I did drink.” Suga inhaled deeply, and Daichi had the impression he was inhaling him. Daichi couldn’t help himself when he rose his hand and caressed the skin of Suga’s jaw. “I think I just need to sleep. Your hand feels nice.”

Daichi ignored that last bit.

“You should take tomorrow off. I don’t even remember the last time you had a day off.”

Suga made a noncommittal sound and closed his eyes, sighing a deep, happy breath. It gave Daichi the impression of a baby cat, content and safe, finally able to fall asleep on its bed. Daichi’s mind was a mess of wants and words that burnt his tongue, and because he had missed Suga and his unmistakable scent, he let his hand take the wet locks of hair away from his forehead.

“Daichi,” Suga whispered softly, already asleep. Daichi smiled at him and caressed his warm skin again and before he did something really stupid, he stood up and went to the conbini.

He knew Suga wouldn’t do the sensible thing and stay home the next day, so he bought him some lemon drinks and more medicine than necessary and put it all in the table.

The post-it read, Take this and take care and don’t you dare faint or die. I made you food, so try to survive until you can go back to a normal person’s existence. Daichi.

There was a thick, scratched black mark right before Daichi signed with his name. It was unreadable, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out what word was hidden underneath.

Suga went back to a normal human’s schedule three months later with a smile as big as the sun, too many kilos thinner and his hair longer.

He also brought a boyfriend with him.

Daichi would have given his life and his soul to go back to those agonizing months when at least he could pretend there was hope at the end of the tunnel.

Daichi’s mood was awful and tiring and it had gotten so bad he couldn’t even stand himself. Mornings were the worst, because Daichi woke up with a knot on his stomach and vile on his throat, a wordless fear perfectly painted on the image of Suga and his damn boyfriend playing lovebirds in his kitchen.

It’s not as if that had ever happened. At least not in real life, anyway. But Daichi’s subconscious was, surprisingly, creative and thorough, and it had provided Daichi with a long list of nightmares he didn’t even want to consider. And they all had the same setting: Daichi, hopeful, crashing on Suga and his unknown lover being so obviously caring for each other it felt like a stab on his chest.

Since Suga announced a week after he’d gone back to a regular work schedule he had a boyfriend, and after the first night of nightmares, Daichi now stepped out of his room as if he were walking on mined land.

The muffled sound of the TV welcomed him when he made his way to the kitchen, the morning news throwing light into the living room. He could hear Suga hum a song while he prepared breakfast, his bare back as alluring as it was appalling. Daichi didn’t want to see the small marks of his freckles all over his skin, constellations he could see but wasn’t allowed to discover.

He felt like a man staring at the sky with no hope of ever reaching it.

“Daichi!” Suga beamed at him, the red mark of his pillow still on his cheek. “Good morning. You’re up late today.”

Daichi shrugged, not sure how words worked now that he was blinded by Suga and his perfect skin and his oh so missed company. “I went out with Kuroo after work.”

“Oh, right.” Suga turned around again, the light tone of his voice as carefree as it was fake. Daichi didn’t give it a second thought and stepped forward to reach for his mug right in time for Suga to lean back, as if he were about to talk to Daichi.

They stilled for a second too long, Daichi’s raised arm caging Suga in his chest. Daichi could feel Suga’s heat coming through his shirt, speeding up his already malfunctioning heart. Suga’s smell invaded his nostrils and his mouth, and Daichi licked his lips as if Suga’s presence were caressing them.

“Ah, sorry,” Daichi mustered, hoarse, and stepped sideways as Suga made a strangled sound and stepped forward, his hips crashing against the counter. Daichi couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He filled his mug with more coffee than he needed and made his way into the living room, where he felt safe and alone and he could pretend his heart wasn’t racing to death.

He wasn’t sure if the distance made it easier or harder to breathe, but at least Daichi’s eyes weren’t glued to a pale, naked back and a neck he had dreamed of more times than he should.

“Daichi,” Suga called him after a minute, his own mug in hand. There was an underlying tension on his frown when Daichi looked back at him. “Is it okay if my boyfriend comes today?”

The coffee turned into acid in Daichi’s stomach. The word boyfriend always sounded full of intent and meaning when Suga said it, but now it was a direct blow to his jaw. Daichi wanted to throw up, but instead he put a tight smile on his lips and nodded, slowly falling apart. “Of course. This is your home too.”

Daichi didn’t sleep in his bed that night, but that didn’t keep him from imagining Suga sleeping in his.

The nightmares were the worst when they came that evening, and Daichi swore he could feel his soul tear apart, shattered at the sight of Suga with someone else.

“You’re whimpering.”

“And it’s annoying.”

Daichi wanted to tell them they were annoying, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mean and lie. He had spent every weekend for a month in Kuroo’s house, taking over his couch and whining about his life. Daichi felt awful at how low he’d fallen. He could even feel his shoulders bend forward, as if they were unable to carry him anymore.

“I know,” Daichi agreed with gritted teeth. “I can’t help it.”

“Just leave that apartment, for god’s sake.” Kuroo threw him a bag of chips and Daichi was too miserable to catch it on time. It hit his face with a loud thud, and Bokuto laughed until he choked. “You’re practically living here anyway. You can stay in my couch until you find a new place, if that’s what you need.”

“Or you could just go and whimper at Suga,” Bokuto added, taking the chips out of Daichi’s hands.

“That’s stupid and unhelpful.”

“I’m serious.” Kuroo sat on the floor, dismissing Bokuto’s complain when he snatched the chips from him. “You need to decide what you do. Or you die pinning over Suga, or you move forward.”

It sounded so easy. It was easy, according to the simplicity of Kuroo’s words. Just step out of that apartment and find happiness again. But it was impossible to even fathom happiness in a world where Suga wasn’t in his life. It was the smell, and the late nights, and how Suga made fun of Daichi when they watched scary movies and then Daichi could barely sleep for a week. It was the shared food and the shared laughs and the fact Daichi couldn’t recall a safer place than being with Suga. After almost three years, Daichi’s heart and Daichi’s life had shaped around Suga’s existence, and just thinking about building a new one where he wasn’t there felt choking and wrong.

“So you’d rather die pinning,” Bokuto said, reading his thoughts.

Daichi didn’t have strength to deny it. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“I think ‘s actually pretty simple.” Bokuto kicked Kuroo and grabbed the chips back. “Nothing will change if you stay silent.”

“I don’t want things to change. That’s precisely the problem here.” Daichi frowned at Bokuto, the shadowed gaze of his sharp eyes cutting and scary. Daichi hated when Bokuto looked at him like that, as if he could see the world in a light Daichi would never be able to understand.

“I think Suga is in love with you,” Bokuto added, and Daichi’s world stopped suddenly on its tracks.

It was nice and light and for a second Daichi breathed with such freedom it was terrifying.

“Yeah, of course, that’s why he has a boyfriend now.” Daichi could hear the venom on his voice.

Bokuto rolled his eyes. “Imagine this. You’ve been living together for three years, and you’re sort of into each other. But you never do anything, or give the impression you actually want things to move forward because, duh, you just said yourself you don’t want things to change.” Daichi felt his chest constrict. Bokuto’s words were sharp but caring, and maybe because of that they hurt the most. “So the guy maybe has a thing for you, but you won’t act on it, you won’t even think of it, so he moves forward. Because life doesn’t stop just ‘cause you’re in love.”

“Bo…” Kuroo murmured, resting his feet on Bokuto’s shin. “That’s so deep and helpful.”

“I’m a master of love.”

“And yet forever single,” Kuroo continued, and Bokuto grew crimson. He turned around and kicked Kuroo again, coaxing a loud yelp out of him.

“Shut up! I was trying to make a point here.” Bokuto threw a pillow at Kuroo just to let him know what a dickhead he was, and turned his attention back to Daichi, who felt shaken and cold. “It’s okay if you want to live your life without stepping forward, but you can’t expect him to stay content with that.”

“I want to step forward,” Daichi answered, his voice trembling and his face as pale as he felt sick. “I want him.”

“But do you want to be with him?”

The question lingered. When Daichi tried to answer, he choked on it.

“That only works if Suga’s in love with me,” Daichi managed to spit out. “If he isn’t, then me saying something will only break what we have now.”

“If you say nothing, you’ll never know.”

“Suga’s not in love with me.”

But from that point on, Daichi couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He thought about it at breakfast, at lunch, at dinner. He thought about it when he was on the shower, when Suga was on the shower. He thought about it when he came back home and found Suga on the couch, glasses down his nose, on the edge of the sit and about to fall, because he was too into the book he was reading.

Since Bokuto’s mouth had put it into words, the possibility that Suga might have feelings for him never left Daichi. It was like a lullaby played at the back of his head, and the more he thought about it and the more he tried to think of other stuff, the louder it got.

“Daichi,” Suga said one friday, already on his pajamas when Daichi got home. He looked soft and safe and welcoming and Daichi almost fell to his knees. Instead, he smiled, because he didn’t know how to show his feelings otherwise. “Wanna watch a movie with me? I know it’s Friday, but—”

“Isn’t… What about your boyfriend? I thought—”

“Oh.” Suga teared his gaze away, a soft blush on his cheeks. Daichi blinked, expression blank. What a sight, and what a hit. “He has plans with his— mom,” Suga seemed amused by that fact, but Daichi didn’t give it more thought.

“It’s been awhile since we watched a movie,” Daichi said with a nod.

“I bought popcorn.”

Daichi light up at the sound of that. He went to his room and got changed, putting on the sweatpants he had discarded that morning without a thought on the bed. Loose and comfortable, Daichi caressed the soft fabric and frowned. They smelled like the soap they used, but somehow they also had attached Suga’s scent, the one Daichi would recognize anywhere.

Daichi stared at his hands on the sweatpants’ pockets, his nose almost brushing the fabric there. He needed a second to register his own actions, the fact he had just buried his nose on his leg because he could smell Suga in him.

He was losing his mind.

“Daichi! Are you ready?”

“Coming!”

Embarrassed, Daichi rushed to the living room, Suga already sat on the couch, ready and excited. He had his legs under him, a bowl of popcorns at hand and a wicked smile on his soft lips.

Daichi grimaced. “Oh no.”

“Oh, yes! It came out the other day, so we are watching the ‘70s version.”

“Why.”

“That’s how you grow some resistance.”

Daichi whimpered softly but sat anyway. “I don’t want resistance.”

Suga didn’t listen. He put the TV on and made himself comfortable, getting swallowed by the couch and brushing Daichi’s arm with his. Daichi’s skin came to life, every cell, every nerve, every beat of his heart aware of every shift of Suga’s body. The way he wiggled to push his legs in front of him, how he put the bowl between them both without looking at Daichi, how he breathed deeply and fully, as if he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

It was heaven. Or hell. It was hard to decide which when his skin was inflamed, his heart was beating so fast he could barely hear the TV and the smell was filling his lungs like water, drowning him.

Suga was so close, he was too close, and the urge to subtly let his weight fall on him was overtaking Daichi’s will. The movie started with Daichi’s mind caught on Suga and his pale skin, Suga and his missed smell, Suga and the fact he had a boyfriend but now that boyfriend was absent so Daichi could pretend he didn’t exist.

The movie wasn’t as scary as others they’d watched, but Daichi was bad with horror. After ten minutes, although his skin was overly aware of Suga right there, he was cold and sweaty. Fear tasted like gasoline when mixed with popcorn, so Daichi stopped eating altogether.

“Daichi.”

He shrieked. Gods, he shrieked so loud it actually quieted the sound of the movie for a second. With wide eyes, Daichi stared at the bright screen, the crawl of a blush, red and hot, already covering all his body.

At least the cold of fear was now overthrown by the heat of shame.

“Oh my god, Daichi,” the amusement in Suga’s voice was as sweet as it was dreading. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Liar.”

Suga’s laugh was a sweet, loud caress. Daichi tried to keep his pout on his mouth, but Suga’s cackle could break any man. When Suga rested his forehead on Daichi’s shoulder, trembling so hard popcorns were falling all over the couch, Daichi finally gave in. He turned around right in time to see tears fall from Suga’s eyes, his laugh shaping his lips into the most beautiful of sights. Daichi stared at him. Drank him, the tempting freckle under his eye, the pale, perfect skin, the bright joy in his eyes.

It struck Daichi how beautiful he was, how much he had missed this simple moments. A heavy layer of yearning covered Daichi’s stomach. Suga wasn’t laughing anymore, now just staring back at Daichi with his eyelashes wet and his tongue clearing the dryness on his lips.

Daichi couldn’t stare away, even if he wanted to.

They were so close Daichi could count the small dots of gold in Suga’s brown eyes. So close, if Daichi inhaled deeply enough, he could breathe every piece of Suga and keep it safe inside his chest.

I want to kiss you, Daichi didn’t say. I love you, Daichi didn’t say.

Suga leaned forward, just a bit. Daichi mimicked him, unbidden. Suga was warm and soft and looked mild and welcoming, and Daichi wanted—

A phone rang. Loud. It was Suga’s, and Daichi knew that ringtone, because he had come to hate it with all his might. It brought reality back to the dream, too.

Suga groaned, as if pissed with his boyfriend for calling him. Daichi straightened his back and with a blank expression stared at the TV. His mind was a mess, and his heart an ashen massacre.

They didn’t finish the movie.

Daichi met Suga’s boyfriend four days later, on a damn Wednesday.

—Wednesdays were banned from that point on—

It was unfair and Daichi would have believed Suga to do it on purpose had he hadn’t been so surprised to see Daichi in the couch when they got in. As if this weren’t Daichi’s home as well.

“Oh. Daichi, I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight…” Suga looked over his shoulder, where a man slightly taller than him was smiling, his handsome face an annoying sight Daichi pretended to ignore.

“I live here,” Daichi said with a flat tone. Suga tittered and Daichi bristled in answer.

“Yeah, of course you do. I thought— Anyway, Daichi, this is Oikawa. Oikawa, my flatmate, Daichi.”

Daichi resented how damnly perfect Oikawa looked, the smile on his lips soft and honest, his fair skin a tint darker than Suga’s. “It’s nice to meet you. Finally.” Even his voice was pretty. Daichi frowned at the singing tone he used for that last word. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice things, I’d hope.”

“Of course! You treated Kou–chan so nicely while we were working on the project. Right, darling?” Daichi froze, a loud ringing sound crossing his skull from side to side at that Kou-chan and that darling. Was it him, or did it sound especially sharp when Oikawa said it? Daichi’s smile widened, but inside he felt like a volcano had just exploded and was destroying every fleshed land it encountered.

“Right.” Suga’s eyes were dark and amused and there was a gleam on them Daichi didn’t usually see. It bothered him enough to stand up and turn his smile in such a fake show his facial muscles hurt. “You okay?”

Suga sounded shy and mocking and Daichi would never understand how he made it work, and why the heck it made his dumb heart drum a happy song.

“Fine. Yeah. I’m just—” he pointed to his room, and then the entrance door, and he stood there trying to decide if suffering Kuroo’s complaints would be worse than staying here and seeing them all lovey-dovey. “I’ll go… to Kuroo’s. Yeah, so you guys can have some privacy and all that.”

“Oh, Dai–chan, please don’t,” Oikawa’s singing voice was annoying and it was drilling a hole into Daichi’s reasoning. “I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your house. Right, darling?”

Suga snorted at Oikawa when he heard that last part, but hid it behind a cough that had Daichi watching him with wary and worry.

“Sure, sure. I mean, of course, Daichi, please don’t leave on our account. This is your house. We could all watch a movie or something.”

“I think not,” Daichi said before he could hold his tongue. Suga’s gaze widened, a sparkle of recognition on those beautiful eyes of his. Daichi wanted to kiss him more than ever, but the need to kick him was as strong, so he did nothing. “Kuroo’s getting used to having me anyway. So, see you later, I guess. Bye.”

Daichi was a coward but he didn’t care. It was too painful, anyway. The drum of his heart wasn’t happy any longer; it sounded like the march of horses, running towards their early deaths.

It was later than Daichi expected when he knocked on Kuroo’s door. He might have been leaning to the side, but the amount of alcohol he had drank kept him from understanding his body’s movements properly. He knocked again with his forehead and his hand, and when seconds ticked and not even a sound came from inside the apartment, Daichi whined softly.

He almost fell face flat when the door opened with a soft click. Kuroo caught him against his chest, —his naked chest—, the mess of his sleep hair matching his black boxers.

“‘Rry.”

“What the heck, man. It’s three in the morning.”

“I know,” Daichi took a hold of Kuroo’s shoulders, trying to straighten himself, but his legs wiggled. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“If you throw up on my floor—”

Daichi didn’t throw up on the floor, but he made a pretty mess on Kuroo’s bathroom. The thought he’d have to invite Kuroo to at least a hundred dinners crossed Daichi’s clouded mind, and with his forehead against the toilet, he looked up where Kuroo was leaning on the door frame.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, more coherently this time. “I’m gonna pay you back.”

“Dude, you don’t have to pay me anything. But it’ll be nice if you got your shit together. You can’t keep coming back here every time Suga brings his boyfriend home.”

“They went straight to the bedroom today,” Daichi mustered, a heavy stone on his back making of his words a sad tangle of emotions. “I couldn’t— I think I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, that’s not something new.” Kuroo sighed deeply, his eyes scanning Daichi on his bathroom floor, tears at the corners of his red eyes, the rictus of his mouth broken and lonely and one step from shattering completely. “Daichi, my friend, you have to make a decision. And you have to make it soon. Look at you.”

Daichi whines. “I know. I know. I just— that stupid Oikawa.”

Kuroo froze mid-step when he heard the cutting of his tongue. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait a second. Oikawa. Oikawa is Suga’s boyfriend.”

“Yes.” Daichi squinted. “Wait, you know Oikawa?”

“Tall? Handsome? He has this vibe he could kill you if you actually piss him off?”

“Uhuh,” Daichi nodded absently. “Yeah.”

“Oh boy.” Kuro squated on Daichi’s side, his smirk as big as it was scary. “Daichi, you owe me your life.”

Daichi’s head was about to explode. There was a constant drum happening on his temples, getting louder and harder and more painful with each passing hit. He grunted loudly, and even that sound hurt.

“I’m dying.”

“Not yet,” Kuroo answered from his side. Daichi didn’t bother opening his eyes, the warmth of Kuroo’s body a nice blanket for his awful state. “It’s just your hangover.”

“Will I die from it?” Kuroo snorted. “What’s that annoying sound?”

“The door,” Kuroo answered unconcerned, as if this weren’t his apartment nor his business. “Suga, I’d assume.”

“Why would Suga be here?” Daichi growled, trying to turn around, but his body felt heavy and numb. Daichi couldn’t be sure if he was moving when he finally opened his eyelids half way, watching Kuroo read some papers, the glasses such a weird sight it broke Daichi’s hangover for a brief second. “I think I’m dying for real.”

“I texted Iwaizumi yesterday and told him you and I had sex.”

A long second of hard pounding went by, and Daichi couldn’t point out if the hits he was hearing were inside his head or Suga was really at the door of the apartment.

“Should I've understood anything of that sentence?”

“Probably not.” Kuroo smirked down at him, his eyes sharper framed by the glasses. “Iwaizumi is my friend from the gym. He’s currently dating a man called Oikawa, whom I believe you’re pretty acquainted with.” Daichi frowned, his headache getting worse with each of Kuroo’s words. “I assumed Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was playing fool, since I’ve seen them together and no one would ever believe they are nothing but madly in love with each other. Disgustingly cute, if you ask me.” Daichi made a noncommittal sound, totally lost with this conversation. The threads of alcohol were still hanging on his brain, and Daichi was divided between kicking Kuroo out of the bed or just let him rant it all out. “You still with me?”

Daichi huffed loudly. “Go on. I’m dying anyway.”

“So, as I expected, Iwaizumi told Oikawa I was giving you the night of your life.” The doorbell was ringing now and Daichi could swore a black hole had opened on his skull and was absorbing every bit of life he had left.

“I still fail to see how’s that making me want to die right now.”

“How impatient,” Kuroo smiled down at Daichi, the soft lift of his lips more tender than mocking. “Oikawa, as I supposed, is Suga’s friend, and he was pretending to be his boyfriend because, as Bokuto told you already, Suga’s pretty much in love with you.” Kuroo drawn his eyebrows together, deep in thought for a second. “Let’s just keep that part for ourselves, though.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell Bokuto he was right. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Right about what?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you listening? Suga’s here, trying to tear my door down because he believes I’ve fucked you senseless.”

“I mean, you did in a way,” Daichi grunted softly, and Kuroo laughed hard enough to shake the bed. “Wait, what?” Daichi finally opened his eyes, and sat on the bed with the widen eyes of a deer about to be hit by a truck. “Suga’s here.” Kuroo nodded. “He thinks you and I had sex.” Another nod. “And you think he’s in love with me.”

“Dude, he’s been at the door for like ten minutes now. There’s no doubt he is in love with you.”

Daichi tripped on his way out of bed, a simple pair of boxers the only thing covering him when he rushed through Kuroo’s apartment till the still ringing door. Now that he was closer he could discern Suga’s muffled voice, the low threats he was aiming at Kuroo with sharp precision warming Daichi’s skin when he took the handle.

“Kuroo, open that door or I swear—˝

Daichi opened the door and Suga almost broke his nose with his fist.

“Oh, no, Daichi, sorry, I didn’t mean…” his voice wore off when Suga’s eyes caught Daichi’s naked body. His eyes roamed around his chest and his thighs and stayed there, on his underwear, as if the fabric had offended him beyond repair. “Oh. Well. I see.”

Daichi wondered if he really saw anything, or if he was mad and hurting. By how hard he was closing his hands in fists Daichi got a pretty good idea of which it was, but he couldn’t talk. His head was still throbbing and his mind was still a blank space unable to process the reasons Suga could have to be here, this early on a Sunday morning.

“I guess I should…” Suga pointed at his back, turning his body, hiding his expression. Daichi couldn’t talk, but he thanked himself when his arm reached forward and stopped Suga from leaving. “Daichi.” He sounded strangled.

“Wait. I can—”

“No, I get it. I should have… I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?”

Daichi frowned when Suga turned back and faced him again, a red blush of anger lighting his cheeks. Daichi let go of his arm. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Kuroo,” Suga wiggled his eyebrows and laughed, dry and broken. It was the worst sound Daichi had ever heard. “You practically live here. I should have… Well, I’m an idiot and now I’m leaving.”

“I’m not with Kuroo,” Daichi said, still trying to catch every bit of information that was flying around his head. Gods, being hangover was the worst. Suga raised his eyebrows and looked at him with intent, but Daichi was too pained to bother worrying about it. “I’m not. I came here drunk and then I threw up and of course I wasn’t going to sleep with my clothes on after that.”

Suga didn’t look convinced on the least. He hummed, arms crossed, and looked at him as if by the simple power of his gaze he could see if Daichi was telling the truth.

“Please? Come in? So we can talk with some privacy.”

“Unless Kuroo has left, we won’t have privacy.”

“I heard that!” Daichi sighed at Kuroo’s amazed voice.

Suga inhaled shakily, catching Daichi’s attention. His shoulders were bent over, his nose red and his eyes hazy. There were shadows under his usually cheerful eyes, now cold and dull. Daichi wanted to pull him into his chest and hug the sadness out of him, but instead he just contented himself with a soft caress on Suga’s cold cheek.

Suga’s intake was harsh and sudden and his eyes lift to lock with Daichi’s, a world of pleas Daichi had never seen before swimming in his eyes.

“Please.”

Suga nodded and stepped forward.

Kuroo gave them some privacy. Which translated in him closing the door of the bathroom and turning on his speakers, loud enough for the lady on the corner’s shop to hear his music.

It was good enough. Daichi managed to borrow some pants and a shirt, and went back to the livingroom, where Suga was pacing around.

“Suga.”

“It’s my fault,” Suga blurted out. He couldn’t look up to Daichi, but his feet stopped moving. “I brought Oikawa and I thought I was being so smart but I wasn’t.”

“I know you believe that makes sense to me,” Daichi said slowly. “But it doesn’t. If you could explain…?”

Suga blinked up at him, the soft light of the morning painting his cheeks in oranges and golds, turning him into a statue of a god, beautiful and nostalgic and breathtaking. Daichi drank from him as he hadn’t allowed himself to do since Oikawa stepped in their apartment, and it hit him with a bull’s strength, how much he’d missed him.

“Oikawa’s my fake boyfriend,” Suga admitted with a plain voice. “I asked him to play the part because I thought—” he choked on his own thoughts, and a blush rose on his already painted cheeks. “I thought you’d get jealous,” he whispered, almost mouthed. Daichi’s brain wasn’t working properly, for he took three seconds too long to understand the meaning of his words.

“What.” Daichi gaped at him. “What do you mean…”

“Come on, Daichi,” Suga snorted. “It was pretty obvious.”

“What.”

Daichi felt like a parrot, unable to say anything beyond that dumb word.

“That I’m in love with you.” Suga watched him freeze. Even his lungs stopped. Daichi couldn’t move when those words crossed his skin and filled him till he couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh, Daichi, don’t tell me. You didn’t know?”

“Of course not! You never said anything!”

“If I left more clues you would have drowned on them.”

“What?” Daichi really ought to stop saying that before its meaning got lost forever. “Suga—” a sudden laugh broke from Daichi’s chest, bubbles of fire and water filling him as if he were a bottle of champagne about to burst. “Suga, I’m not especially sharp for these things.”

Suga rolled his eyes. “No kidding.”

Silence fell. It was almost a physical thing, not heavy or awkward, but filled with possibilities and expectations. They were still some meters apart, Suga’s hands tangled, Daichi’s hands at his hips. The moment lingered. Tension was growing and growing, the hint of a step, the shadow of a smile.

Their eyes never teared from each other, and by the time the moment had grown so big it was embracing them like a blanket, they were both smiling like idiots.

“You’re in love with me,” Daichi beamed.

Suga shook his head, but his lips were wearing the sweetest of smiles. “Yeah.”

“And you fake dated your friend to make me jealous.”

“As I said.”

“And I was jealous.” Suga inhaled deeply, probably filling his lungs with that truth, with Daichi’s laugh, with the moment and the pretty colors of the sun, lighting them up. “I was so jealous I couldn’t even think. Kuroo and Bokuto have been one second from murdering me. Several times.”

Suga chuckled, his hand playing with his lower lip now. It was shy and yet tempting, the unmistaken gleam of mischief in his eyes making of Daichi’s heart a stuttering mess. His glare said, how long are you gonna wait to kiss me?

“I’ve been in love with you almost since we moved together,” Daichi confessed instead. His lips were drawn into a thin line, the weight of his emotions finally being freed from their cage a relief, and a curse. There was no coming back from this. Change, as dreaded as it felt, was happening, and it was as light as it was weird. It was like walking over broken shells, but instead of cutting him, the sharp edges were building him, reshaping him. “I didn’t— I was so scared of losing what we had, I never dared saying anything. You know, the nights together, the trust, the fact you were always there. You were my… You were…”

Suga stepped closer, a ghostly movement Daichi saw and Daichi drank from with his lower lip caught between his teeth. “I was…?”

“Suga.” Daichi exhaled his name, a plea, a wish, a dream finally at his hand’s reach. Suga was close enough now for Daichi to feel the way his chest moved, his heavy breathing matching Daichi’s.

“What was I, Daichi.” The soft touch of Suga’s finger on his jaw made Daichi close his eyes. The small spot of contact felt like a supernova, a blown star growing and growing, electrifying every cell in Daichi’s body. He was burning up. “Come on,” the whisper caressed his lips, “we’ve come this far.”

Daichi’s eyes cracked open. Suga was everything he could gaze at and, unthinkingly, he mustered, “Home. You’ve been home all along.”

The kiss happened like the best things always happen, soundless and caringly, thoughtless. A soft brush of lips. They were gazing at each other because their mouths meeting with their eyes closed felt wrong and unfitting. Daichi breathed Suga, the smell of lemon, of leather, of home. Suga’s hands flatted Daichi’s sides, the warmth of his palms a brand in Daichi’s skin. It send rivers through Daichi’s system.

In answer, Daichi groaned, a stupid sound that put a blush in his cheeks and a laugh in Suga’s mouth, still glued to Daichi’s. “Home, huh,” Suga teased him, his arms circling Daichi’s neck and pushing him closer. Daichi’s hands, somehow, had found their way to Suga’s waist. Daichi wasn’t sure he could ever take them away.

Letting out a noncommittal sound against Suga’s neck, Daichi tasted his laugh through his throat. “That’s sweet.”

“Thanks,” Daichi grunted against his skin.

“Daichi.”

“What.”

Bending his back away from Daichi’s touch, Suga leaned far enough for their eyes to meet again. Although shaped with a tender smile, Suga’s lips had an edge to them, as if words he wasn’t sure of were caught in them.

“Do you want things to change?”

It was said with a heavy seriousness Daichi wasn’t prepared for. He regarded Suga with a blink, the warmth of their kiss still in his lips. Suga’s eyes had grown dark. Daichi’s fingers pressed Suga’s flesh with unconscious intent.

“I want you,” Daichi answered with honesty. “I want to be with you.”

There was a long second of Kuroo’s music breaking their peace, in which Suga watched Daichi with eyes that went from unsure, to scared, to pleased in a beat. Daichi saw it all, the small journey of his emotions, and he was prepared when Suga threw himself at him, mouth open and arms choking.

Daichi kissed him back, pushed him up, hugged him until they were out of breath by the kiss as much as the way their arms held each other.

“Take me home, Daichi.”

Daichi smiled, and kissed that plea, and then laughed because home had just acquired a bright new meaning.

#haikyuusecretsanta #daisuga #haikyuu!!#sugawara koushi #sawamura daichi #fanfic

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is-this-life-or-fantasy · 6 years

Note

answer all the ones you wanna

Thank you Anon!! It’s been a DAY and I’m glad to get my mind off everything I need to be doing to do this

“PUT A NUMBER IN MY ASK ;)”

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?~Becca2. Are you outgoing or shy?~Depends on the situation, if I’m with friends I’m much much more outgoing. In general it depends on my mood and type of situation, but it’s probably 50/503. Who are you looking forward to seeing?~Olu! It’s been so long and he’s so good4. Are you easy to get along with?~I don’t really know. I think I can be pretty easy to get along with, but if we differ on something important to me or I have something against you I’m a huge bitch5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?~If she wasn’t also very drunk then probalby6. What kind of people are you attracted to?~Sarcastic assholes7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?~Maybe/I suppose8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?~(This kinds implies there are two genders that are opposites and that’s not the case but I’ll pretend this says what guy) Zach actually because I forgot to venmo him9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?~Nope10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?~I genuinely can’t remember11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?~”Yay!! I’m reading your blog now actually”12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?~1. “Hall of Mirrors” - The Distillers~2. “Dancing in the Moonlight” - King Harvest~3. “Within You Without You” - The Beatles~4. “I Think You Nose Is Bleeding” - The Front Bottoms~5. “Trampoline” - The Front Bottoms13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?~Usually only someone I’m interested in14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?~Fuck yes I do15. What good thing happened this summer?~I went to Virginia Beach on vacation with my friends16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?~yeah17. Do you think there is life on other planets?~Yup18. Do you still talk to your first crush?~Oh hell no19. Do you like bubble baths?~I used to, haven’t taken one in a very long time20. Do you like your neighbors?~Nope21. What are you bad habits?~Oh we don’t have time for all of them, but: biting my fingernails, procrastination, isolation, drinking, smoking, in general bad coping mechanisms, etc.22. Where would you like to travel?~Europe!23. Do you have trust issues?~Oh hell yes24. Favorite part of your daily routine?~Laying down at night to go to sleep25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?~My thighs26. What do you do when you wake up?~Think about how much more sleep I can get without being late27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?~A little darker because this bitch can’t tan28. Who are you most comfortable around?~My close friends29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?~Ex’s? You assume more than one fool has made this mistake30. Do you ever want to get married?~Yea one day31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?~A little one but it’s sad32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?~Robert Downy Jr. and Halsey33. Spell your name with your chin.~ cy45isina (yikes)34. Do you play sports? What sports?~No I can’t sport35. Would you rather live without TV or music?~Omg that’s the nightmare scenario. I guess music36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?~Oh that’s practically my life motto37. What do you say during awkward silences?~I usually make a weird noise or something stupid to break the ice (like doing my Ben routine) or say something random38. Describe your dream girl/guy?~amazing hair, smart, funny, sarcastic asshole, ambitious, dedicated, responsible, reliable39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?~Hot Topic and Target40. What do you want to do after high school?~I mean I’m already doing it, college41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?~Not everyone, but most people42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?~Usually that I’m upset43. Do you smile at strangers?~Depending on my mood, yes44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?~Bottoms of the ocean45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?~Usually the fact that this bitch needs money, or my anxiety46. What are you paranoid about?~Oh everything, it’s mostly stuff related to my anxiety and insecurities47. Have you ever been high?~Yup48. Have you ever been drunk?~Yup49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?~I don’t think so50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?~Black and gray (because this bitch wears two hoodies at the same time)51. Ever wished you were someone else?~When I was younger probably52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?~My mental health status53. Favourite makeup brand?~Um what (this bitch don’t use makeup)54. Favourite store?~Hot Topic55. Favourite blog?~Actual blog: Eileen’s~Tumblr blog: So many but either slime-tony or color-me-erika56. Favourite colour?~Blue57. Favourite food? ~My mom’s mashed potatos58. Last thing you ate?~McDonald’s fries and nugs59. First thing you ate this morning?~Nothing lol, for lunch I had bonchon chicken and fries60. Ever won a competition? For what?~I mean I was valedictorian if that counts? So I guess I won for being able to take test and bullshit assignments 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?~Nope62. Been arrested? For what?~Nope63. Ever been in love? ~Yup64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?~Oh boy. I was in like preschool I think, maybe kindergarden, and me and this boy didn’t know what kissing was other than that adults did it and we were like yea sure this is normal so we kissed sometimes like under tables and shit and looking back super weird thing to do. I don’t remember the first kiss, but it was something like that. My first kiss as not a small small child was Alex I think and boy was that a mistake65. Are you hungry right now?~Nah66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?~(Tumblr friends are real friends) I don’t have friends specific to tumblr I think67. Facebook or Twitter?~Facebook68. Twitter or Tumblr?~Tumblr69. Are you watching tv right now?~Yup, FRIENDS70. Names of your bestfriends? ~I’d call them my closest friends, in no particular order: Eileen, Joe, Erika, Zach, Kim, Alex, Becca, Mars, Tiffany, Sloane, (I want to put Lex on this list too but we don’t talk as much so I don’t know if she sees me as one of her closest friends but I adore her)71. Craving something? What?~Not that I can think of72. What colour are your towels?~Blue, Green, and White72. How many pillows do you sleep with?~Usually 3 (Because they be flat boys)73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?~Yup!74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?~I got rid of most of them when I was younger (I have no idea why I did that I was a total idiot) but anyway no clue because my life is a mess75. Favourite animal?~Honey Badger76. What colour is your underwear?~You assume I’m wearing underwear77. Chocolate or Vanilla?~Ice Cream: Vanilla~Milkshake: Chocolate78. Favourite ice cream flavour?~Banan-a-Peel'n79. What colour shirt are you wearing?~Again you assume I have clothes on80. What colour pants?~See answer above81. Favourite tv show?~SOAP82. Favourite movie?~Noises Off83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?~Mean Girls84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?~Mean Girls85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?~Damien86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?~Dory87. First person you talked to today?~My mom88. Last person you talked to today?~Eileen89. Name a person you hate?~Anna90. Name a person you love?~Tiffany91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?~Oh so many people92. In a fight with someone?~I don’t think so93. How many sweatpants do you have?~Like 4?94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?~5 hoodies? 4 sweatshirts?95. Last movie you watched?~Descendents 296. Favourite actress?~Betty White97. Favourite actor?~Jason Bateman98. Do you tan a lot?~Not at all99. Have any pets?~Sadly no100. How are you feeling?~Not great but I’m still here101. Do you type fast?~Not really?102. Do you regret anything from your past?~I regret a bunch of stupid things103. Can you spell well?~Not at al104. Do you miss anyone from your past?~Yea, sometimes105. Ever been to a bonfire party?~I was at a bonfire but I wouldn’t call it a party106. Ever broken someone’s heart?~Not to my knowledge107. Have you ever been on a horse?~Yes108. What should you be doing?~One of the many many things on the spring break to do list109. Is something irritating you right now?~Oh many things110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?~Oh yea111. Do you have trust issues?~I think this was already asked, but yes112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?~I can’t even remember, but I think Mars, Jake, and Arianne when I was high113. What was your childhood nickname?~Tina114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?~Yup115. Do you play the Wii?~I used to116. Are you listening to music right now?~Nope117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?~Yup118. Do you like Chinese food?~Fuck yes119. Favourite book?~This is a book by: Demetri Martin120. Are you afraid of the dark?~Yea121. Are you mean?~I can be122. Is cheating ever okay?~No, never123. Can you keep white shoes clean?~Nope124. Do you believe in love at first sight?~Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time125. Do you believe in true love?~Yea126. Are you currently bored?~A little127. What makes you happy?~being with my friends128. Would you change your name?~Maybe129. What your zodiac sign?~Gemini130. Do you like subway?~Occasionally (I like the way it smells more than I like the food)131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?~Tell them I’m sorry but I don’t feel the same way132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?~Again with the repeat questions133. Favourite lyrics right now?~”It’s fine, I’m fine, It’s fine”134. Can you count to one million?~I mean I suppose but at what cost135. Dumbest lie you ever told?~”I’m fine”136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?~Always closed137. How tall are you?~5′5138. Curly or Straight hair?~Straight139. Brunette or Blonde?~Brunette140. Summer or Winter?~Summer141. Night or Day?~Night142. Favourite month?~May or December143. Are you a vegetarian?~Hell no I couldn’t144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?~Milk choclate145. Tea or Coffee?~Coffee146. Was today a good day?~Not really, but it was ok147. Mars or Snickers?~Neither148. What’s your favourite quote?~”It’s gonna take a long time…and then it’s perfect”149. Do you believe in ghosts?~Fuck yea150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?~”I’m currently in the thick of the most confusing and terrifying time of my life” BIG MOOD

#me #personal #ask me #it's tina

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takemedancingmaine · 7 years

Text

My feet ache. My thighs are burning. I’m dodging families and vehicles. Especially dodging cyclists with their maniacal ways. Honestly, my hatred for cyclists can probably be blamed on Jeremy Clarkson, but as a runner I’ve found his rants about them much more factual than purely hatred based.

Eight kilometres into my run. Only two to go. It’s eight am. It’s Thursday. It’s a bye week, so I don’t have therapy this week. Sometimes I feel that the nicest part of the new job I’ve got is that I can wake up and make myself a real breakfast rather than just grabbing a smoothie on my way into the office.

I’ve been in the broadcast news room for a week now. It’s been enlightening. I’ve not had any big days like my first, none of my segments made it into the first two blocks, but I haven’t felt down about it since Saturday when I talked to Liam.

I’ve been managing. I’ve been doing well. I’ve learned to take solace in just being part of each nightly broadcast.

It’s when I hit the ninth kilometre, my watch beeping at me as I hit another mark. Only one to go.

It’s now that my mind starts to drift. To a certain primary school teacher.

Thoughts of blue eyes, dimples, a ginger coloured beard and strawberry blonde hair. Thoughts of a lean build in a stupidly attractive button down that was worn the other night at the pub.

Thoughts of Jack have been swirling in my mind like a maelstrom, around and around, and I’ve been unable to pull myself out of the spiral. I keep thinking of the blush that crept onto his face and the way he bit his lip. It makes my heart soar. There’s no way he could be into me. Which makes my heart sink.

And so the spiral continues.

I haven’t heard from Jack or his sister Lily since that night after she made sure I had arrived home safely.

I haven’t told Piper about seeing him again either. I don’t want to get her started on ‘shipping’ us. We are not to become her ‘OTP’. That isn’t something I need. Piper would not rest until she got us together and that would be embarrassing on a lot of fronts when it doesn’t work out.

I’ve got a bead of sweat on my brow about to drop into my eye. So I reach up and swipe it away with the inner crease of my arm, momentarily blocking my view, forcing me to have to swerve past a stroller at the last second.

“Fuck sake,” I mumble with a harsh breath in regard to the stroller as I see my street finally come to view ahead of me.

It had been suggested when I started running that I do not listen to music when I run. Melissa wanted to do a sort of test to see where my mind wandered when it had an allocated time to just think and be. So, since the day I started, I never have listened to music. As a consequence, I never bring my phone with me.

That feeling is quite freeing. For as long as I’m out running, whether it be a long run or a short one, I’m away from everything, any distractions and any micro stressors that I’ve got in my life. Instead, all I have to think about is my ability to keep going, my ability to struggle through the blisters and the ankle sprains and whatever other injuries I may get as a result.

It makes me proud of myself: running. It’s hard to do and every day I do it, for myself.

My mother and brother used to worry, of course, that I would be out around London early in the morning without a phone to contact anyone in case of emergency. When I got my new GPS watch it made them feel a bit better that it could be connected to my phone.

I turn that feature off when I’m out though so that nothing and no one can distract me from my running getaway. I don’t tell them that, though.

Let them think I’m taking all precautions. That white lie won’t hurt them.

I make my way up the front steps of the building and catch my breath quickly as I put in the pin for my building and jog up the stairs—all three flights—to get to our front door. Piper’s taken the day off from working in the gallery to take some new photos around the city.

She’s hoping to get some fall photos for a possible new exhibit. She’s trying to make the dying of summer, beautiful and spread that beauty. Fall, when the leaves slip from their branches, when the flowers lie dormant under the soil, and the sky becomes almost perpetually grey—more so than usual—is when the world renews itself.

Piper finds beauty in that. I love her for that. I like to compare her to Van Gogh in that way. She tends to roll her eyes at the comparison, but I still think it stands.

The best part of this is—her day away from the gallery—is that she’s made breakfast for us. I can smell it as I push open the front door and kick off my trainers.

“Oh,” Piper sighs when I step in and she sees me. “Thank god. Your phone just went off with an unknown number and I was too afraid to answer it for you,” she says, pointing to where it’s charging on the end table.

“You made mini quiches?” I ask in disbelief.

“I was going to make pastries and omelettes separately but I just… I got carried away.” She lifts her hands up and shrugs, almost helplessly. “I don’t really know what happened.”

With a laugh, I shake my head and pour myself a glass of milk.

“You having the day off is a very weird situation for me,” I give her an amused look.

“Yeah, well,” she smiles. “It’s weird having you home this late, too,” she knocks my elbow a bit as I drink. “I’m so used to you being gone before I even wake up. Now you’re out and about, having tea while I’m getting ready to leave for work.”

“It’s been a week and I’m not used to it either,” I say back. “I feel all sorts of discombobulated.”

“How was the run?” She asks now.

I look down at my watch and quickly calculate. “Not my best,” I make a face before smoothing it out. “But I did manage to avoid any major incidents with bicycles.”

“Now that’s improvement and should be celebrated properly,” Piper starts taking the mini quiches out of their muffin tins and placing them on a cooling rack. “Make yourself a nice brew and celebrate.”

“How many of those did you make?” I ask in awe as I watch her pull another mini muffin tin full of quiches from the oven.

“Forty-eight,” she mumbles.

“Right, well I know what my breakfast and lunch is going to be for the next week,” I tease her a bit more.

“Shut it,” she mumbles more and elbows me in the spleen.

“I’m going to shower,” I shrug and roll my eyes before heading to the bathroom.

“Good, because you smell bloody awful!” She yells after me as the door closes behind myself.

The stream is beating down on my shoulders and releasing the tension there, the steam filling up the small room around me as I breathe deeply and lean back to rinse the shampoo from my hair.

I can hear Piper put on some music and smile when I hear some Eagles playing. Piper and I had first bonded in uni when we were placed in the same housing. We were roomed directly across from each other in a six-student mixed-gender housing situation and about two months into the school year we realized we liked the same music and took our tea the same way.

It actually started when she had gotten upset with one of our other roommates for having sex—loudly—in the room adjacent to hers and so she’d placed her jbl speaker right against the wall they shared and started blasting Baba O’Riley as loud as it would allow her to.

I’d taken pity on her and told her she could sleep on my bed and I’d take the couch. She’d declined, but we ended up sitting up half the night on the couch drinking brews and discussing the music that was still playing loudly from down the hallway. We’d woken up with kinks in our necks from sleeping sitting up on the couch and ended up skipping our morning classes in order to sleep in our beds and then talk some more.

We’ve been best friends ever since.

It’s starting to get quite cold in the mornings, my runs more frigid than they had been just a few brief weeks before. The cold seeps in slowly after I run, the heat of my workout leaving me and the cold pulling me under. It’s why my typically cooler showers heat up so much in the winter. It’s the way I raise my body temperature back up.

With the shampoo all gone from my hair and the chill finally gone from my bones, I turn and push the water off, sighing as I dry off and wrap myself in a warm towel. In the mirror, I can’t help but notice the contrast between my dark, damp hair and my pale skin

I think it’s something about being British that I actually don’t mind being pale. Perhaps its because I’ve never really had the opportunity to see myself tan to compare.

There’s something almost cathartic about combing out my hair that I just love. It’s relaxing. Melissa thinks I use it as a metaphor. A sort of way to physically feel and see tangles being removed from my hair and by extension, my life. Piper, even though she’s fully supportive of me in all ways, thinks that’s a load of bullshit.

“Your phone buzzed again, and your tea is ready,” Piper calls as I tread from the bathroom to my bedroom to get dressed.

“You really are a blessing, no matter how in disguise you may be,” I tell her a few minutes later when I reappear from my room all clothed.

“You’re such a toad,” she pushes a plate filled with four mini quiches toward me as I lift the mug with my brew in it to my lips, blowing on it to hopefully cool it down a bit.

When I move the mug away from my mouth I give her a smile and a wink.

“You might actually be the worst,” she shakes her head.

“I honestly think I might be,” I shrug and take a sip of the brew. It’s perfect. Oh my gosh, it’s exactly what I needed. My eyes close and Piper giggles at my reaction.

“You and your brews are honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Wren,” I open my eyes in time to see Piper pop a mini quiche into her mouth.

“Verdict?” I ask.

“I did a proper good making these,” she brags.

“Oh come off your high horse, Pip,” I take a bite out of one of the pastries she’d given to me and I fight hard to keep my reaction to myself.

“It’s good, innit?” Piper asks with a smirk.

“Shut it,” I mumble around the food in my mouth and she laughs more before heading off to her room.

“My camera battery should be charged by now and I want to get as much out of the day after my whole, GBBO morning…” she trails off and I hear her shuffling in her room.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d at least make it past the first round,” I call out to her.

“Thanks for that support you little shit,” she comes out of her room wearing her leather jacket and with her camera bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight, love,” she leans over and kisses my cheek. “Knock ‘em dead,” she grabs her keys and opens the door.

“God, sometimes I feel like we’re married,” I groan.

“Power couple of the year,” she winks before she’s gone, the door closing behind her and I’m left shaking my head.

It’s not until I’m leaving for work an hour later when I pull my phone off the charger on my way to the front door, that I’m reminded I have messages. One is from an unknown number, a voice message, while the other is from my brother asking if I can watch Charlie for a few hours on Saturday.

He has to head to work for a few hours.

I shake my head but quickly text back that I should be fine to watch Charlie and then slip my phone into my jacket pocket, doing up the bottoms and then heading out the door.

Every few moments I’m glancing at my watch, hoping to whoever or whatever that I make my train on time. I’d lost track of time when I was plaiting my hair and listening to a podcast, not realizing I was cutting it very close on time.

The cool air, while unwelcome while I’m out on a run, is actually some of my favourite weather and I feel a sense of calm fall over me as I shuffle past everyone who’s out and about on the sidewalk while I’m actually trying to get somewhere on a time frame.

A shocking idea to some people in London, I muse as I swipe my oyster card and practically jog down the escalators to get to the right platform on time.

“Fuckin’ hell,” I breathe out a sigh of relief as I step into the carriage just as the doors close. I honestly feel a bit like Indiana Jones when the doors just miss me. I find an empty seat and plop down into it unceremoniously before digging into my bag for headphones and plunking them in my ear before attaching them to my phone.

I open my voice messages and click play.

“Wren.”

My breath catches. It’s Jack.

I start to fiddle with the button on my coat nervously as I continue to listen. What if something happened to Charlie and Liam was too busy taking care of it to call me? I feel my pulse quicken as I listen more.

“It’s Jack.” There’s a breath and a pause. “I wanted to see if maybe you’d like to grab dinner with me.” Another pause. “I’m walking into school now so I won’t be able to answer until after three if you call back, but I’d love to hear from you.”

That’s it. He ends the call.

The people on the tube with me must think there’s something wrong with me—if they’re paying any attention at all. I’m flushed and breathing quickly, my heart beating at a quicker pace than a hummingbird’s wings. I’m almost sure it can be heard over the rattling of the train.

He wants to get dinner. With me. I think of his cheeky smile and feel my blush spread to the tips of my ears as I look down at my hands in my lap and bite my bottom lip.

I know for sure that by the time I reach work, walking forward out of the elevator, my blush is still noticeable on my cheeks. I feel like everyone can tell I’m giddy. Perhaps they think I’ve taken drugs. Even James, who’s been busy trying to convince Seamus to put something into the copy all day, seems to be looking at me funnily.

Consistently throughout the day, I find myself thinking about Jack. It’s worse than usual. When I run something over to Karl about the new speed cameras on the M5 I jump when I think about how close it is to three.

We’ve had the daily rundown meeting, through which I had a hard time focusing, and I’d been counting down the hours since I’d had a free moment to do so.

“Are you feeling alright?” Jamie asks when I sit down at my desk block. She’s diagonal across from me in the grouping of three, so she’s probably been watching me all day. “You look a bit flushed and you’ve seemed a bit out of it all day.”

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “Just a little distracted, but I’m fine,” I shoot her what I hope to be a reassuring smile and she nods, unconvinced. She returns her focus back to her desktop though and lets the subject drop, for which I’m grateful.

It’s five after three when I glance at the clock and feel my throat dry. What do I even say to him when I do call him? Shit. I’ve been so enamoured all day that I’ve forgotten to work out how to respond.

I know I want to go out with him, but how do I express that?

For a split second, I think about calling Piper and then immediately I shake that thought from my mind as quickly as it came. That would take me telling Piper about seeing him last weekend, would get her all excited for something that would more than likely turn out to be nothing. There was a reason I hadn’t told her in the first place.

No, that’s not something I’m interested in.

So now I’ve got to figure it out all myself. I mean, it’s not like I can ask Liam for advice. He’d probably lock me up in my bedroom if he knew I was thinking about going out on a date.

My older brother, who’s been married and has a child, is petrified by the very idea of my dating.

Find the logic behind that for me and I’ll pay you heartily in Yorkshire puddings. The best food in the world as a reward for a small tidbit of information. That’s a more than fair offer is all I’m saying.

It’s while I’m thinking that I realize I’ve opened my phone and pulled up Jack’s number to call him back. By now it’s almost four. That’s what all my planning has resulted in: no plan and an entire hour passed.

I hit his number and taking a deep breath I hold it and hover my thumb over the call button for a solid minute before releasing the breath and pressing the button.

“Hello,” his voice greets me after two rings.

If I was standing my knees would’ve given out. Such a simple word.

“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” I blurt before I can say anything else. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from rambling because in the brief silence I can feel myself wanting to ramble. Almost like word vomit.

“Is tonight good?” His voice lulls again, thankfully before I can let anything stupid to slip past my own lips.

“I don’t get off until nine,” I say now.

“That’s fine,” he tells me.

“I don’t want to keep you out late,” I continue.

“I don’t mind.”

“I’d be keeping you out late… on a school night!” I gasp for dramatic effect. “What is your mum going to think? She’ll call me a nuisance and a bad influence!”

“It could be argued that you’re both, but typically I don’t listen to what my mum says when it comes to things like this,” his voice has me blushing at my desk. In an open bullpen, at a shared desk, I’m blushing.

Oh god. I’m so embarrassed. On so many levels.

He continues. “I’m fine with however late you feel fit to keep me out. Hell, keep me out all night if you have to.”

I can hear his smirk just through his tone. I know that on his end of the call, as he holds the mobile to his ear, he’s just got a smug little smirk plastered on his face.

I, meanwhile, have a hand covering my eyes as my forehead rests on the desk and I try to make myself as small as possible.

“How about we get together on Saturday instead? I’ve got to watch Charlie for a bit but maybe we can just grab coffees and go to my friend’s gallery?” I ask, my stomach eating itself with my nerves.

“That sounds great,” he says. “I’ll see you Saturday, Wren.” He ends the call before anything else can be said.

There are butterflies and then there are elephants. I’ve got elephants clomping through my stomach, just smashing into each other and toppling and stampeding. It feels like I’m going to be violently sick in anticipation.

And that’s when I realize.

Now I have to tell Piper.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“I bloody don’t know, Wren but something is up with you.” We’re sat on top of unoccupied driers in our local laundromat, The Spin Cycle, watching our clothes spin round and round in the washers opposite us.

Every other Thursday night has been laundry night since uni (minus the few years Piper was up in Liverpool) and even with my schedule change, that’s remained the same.

Piper had seen how drained I was after one of my first therapy sessions and knew that doing coursework would’ve been too much for me. Still, she argued that I needed to feel productive somehow to pick me up and she had piles upon piles of clothes on her floor so that’s what she came up with.

It helped. And the routine was born. The two of us chatting lightly as we wash, fluff, and fold our laundry.

“Honestly, I dunno what you’re talking about,” I shrug now and wring my hands together.

“Well, that’s a lie, innit?” She gives me a prompting look.

“It might be,” I fire back.

“Oh, it might be?” She nudges me a bit with her elbow. “You’re such a cheeky fuck, aren’t you?”

“Fuckin’ right,” I smile back at her.

She shakes her head with a smile but after a minute of silence, she gets back into the inquiry. As a journalist and a news producer, you’d think Piper would be intimidated by my interviewing knowledge. You’d also think that I would be good at interviews and interview tactics, but not when I’m on the opposite side of the coin from normal.

I want to shiver just as she turns back to look at me.

“What is it?” she asks, her voice low, her eyes sincere.

The sincerity gets me. That’s what forces me to answer.

“You remember Charlie’s teacher?” I ask quietly, mumbling, hoping that she didn’t actually hear me, knowing that she did.

“Hot for teacher,” she nods, looking at me earnestly. I can see her trying to figure out just what I’m trying to say, the wheels are turning. Piper’s deductive reasoning is not to be messed with.

“Well,” I shrug, hoping that does it. That that answers her questions. And I know it doesn’t, but there’s a small hope.

“Y’know sometimes,” she gives me a look, “talking to you is like talking to a fuckin’ wall.”

I glare. Then, I sigh. “I saw him on Saturday.”

“You fuckin’ wot?!”

“I went to Simmons after Charlie’s party because I needed a drink and my whiskey stash at home ran out about a month ago,” she nods. She helped me finish it off. “I’d just gotten my drink, had just taken a sip to let the alcohol seep into my blood and I hear my name being called. It’s him and he’s with his sister.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” she asks.

“I didn’t want to get you excited over nothing!” I explain. “All that happened was that we chatted, mostly I chatted with his sister though.”

“So, tell me why you’ve been so jumpy tonight then,” she knows I’m not telling her the whole story.

“He’s the unknown number that called me this morning,” I explain.

“Shit,” she gasps. “What did he want?”

“He just asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him, so when I called him back I told him we could grab coffee and go to your gallery this Saturday,” I say in a rush, in one big breath.

“You did what?” She asks. She’s got wide eyes as she looks me over. “You’re fucking nuts, love! You did all that on your own? The fuck do you need me for now?”

“I’m so goddamn nervous,” I sputter out.

“Oh, love,” she pulls me into her side, wrapping an arm around me. “Listen to me, right? He called you,” she reassures me. “He wants to spend time with you, get to know you. You have no reason whatsoever to be nervous. None at all.”

“But he’s only known me briefly,” I tell her. “Just the one day when I picked up Charlie and then the other day Saturday, but his sister was there to smooth over any awkward bits in the conversation.”

“Who gives a shit about awkward bits?” she spits, angrily. “Life is fucking awkward,” she shakes her head. “Let it be awkward. Embrace the awkward,” she gives me a nudge.

“What the fuck are you on about?” I ask her.

“I’m saying,” she squeezes me, “that nobody gives a shit if you’re awkward. Even if it’s awkward it can still be good,” she shrugs.

“I’ve never had that experience,” I tell her begrudgingly.

“Wren,” she sighs. “Just, he clearly wants to spend time with you, and knowing you, even in your brief time together, you’ve been awkward around him. He doesn’t care. He wants you around, wants to see where it goes.”

I take a deep breath. “That’s bull-“

“Does he make you blush?” she asks, cutting me off. “Does he give you butterflies and make you feel something you’ve not felt before, something not Ed nor Evan made you feel?”

I bite my lower lip and hesitate. He’s intriguing. He does make me blush, does give me butterflies. I don’t know him well enough to answer whether or not he makes me feel something neither of my boyfriends past could make me feel. When he gives me that cheeky smile though or looks at me with those sincere, deep blue eyes… there’s an inkling. Something lingers under the surface that makes me think there could be more.

So I nod.

“That’s your answer then,” Piper lies her head on my shoulder. “You’ve got to embrace the awkward to find out what that feeling with him is, right?”

“Okay,” I acquiesce.

“Fuck, what’s his name again?” she asks.

“Jack,” I smile, his name slipping out from between my lips, the sound like velvet as it crosses my skin.

“There you are,” she pulls back and looks at me, pointing to my face. “Your face, just now when you said his name? You’ve got to see where this takes you,” she smiles. “I have a feeling this is going to be very, very good for you.”

#OKAY BUT PLEASE GIVE ME SOME FEEDBACK #WHAT DO YOU LIKE #WHAT DO YOU NOT LIKE #JUST PLEASE TALK TO ME #PLEASE #hmd #jack lowden #jack lowden fanfiction

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folklore-musings · 7 years

Text

Camera Shy (part 5)

Summary: AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him. - Bughead leading to eventual smut

Parts: One Two Three Four

Read on AO3 here

Thank you SOOOOOOOOOOOOO much for all the wonderful feedback this story has received. I love you all so much.

Betty unwraps herself from Jughead’s embrace and searches for her clothes amongst the mess on his floor. Rubbing her hands together, she remembers how they stripped down the hallway and heads for the open door. Her clothes lie in a pile on the kitchen floor and she tugs them on, tossing her hair out of her face in the process. She reaches into her jacket pocket for her phone, falling back against her fridge at the astounding amount of messages blinking on her screen.

Jughead slinks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “What’s that look for?”

“One guess.” Betty says, walking towards him slowly. “Answer correctly and you’ll get a kiss.”

Jughead taps his chin in mock thought. “Hmmm…Veronica?” Betty smiles and leans in to kiss his lips softly. Her legs are still shaking from their earlier rendezvous in the sheets but she ignores their quaking and continues to move her mouth against his.

“She wants us to all go out for dinner.” Betty looks down at her phone and shuffles through her texts. “She also says ‘YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO BETTS’ in all caps. I’m so confused.”

Jughead shrugs and grips Betty’s shoulders to steady himself, his stomach growling at the mention of food. “Ignore her, except for the dinner part. Look at me, I’m practically shrinking in front of my own eyes.” Betty’s gaze travels down Jughead’s bare chest, trailing down to the waist band of his boxer briefs. His half naked body was way too distracting for her.

“Just because we had sex doesn’t mean you can start walking around the apartment like a Calvin Klein model.” She tells him, continuing to eye his body appreciatively.

Jughead raises a tempting eyebrow. “You think I could be a model?” He grabs the dish towel hanging over the handle of the stove and wraps it around his head like a scarf. “Oh Betty, stop it.” He pops his foot and smiles at her, batting his eyelashes like the cartoon Minnie Mouse.

She leans in for another kiss when her phone goes off her hand. Betty presses a finger to his puckered lips. “Hold that thought.” She lifts the phone to her ear and answers.

“BETTY!” Veronica screeches through the speaker. Jughead kisses her forehead and backs out of the kitchen down the hall.

“I’m just going to go shower,” He whispers, leaving Betty all alone to deal with Ronnie.

“Hi Ronnie,” Betty says into the receiver, keeping her tone as even as she can, despite the mushy gushy feeling in her stomach and the tingling in her toes. Her lips are spread in a wide smile and she twirls her hair around her finger, watching Jughead as he disappears into the bathroom like a love struck puppy.

“Don’t ‘hi Ronnie’ me. What is up? How did the shoot go? What happened? Did you touch the hair? Let me know how soft it was I took a picture of the conditioner he uses before I left earlier.” Ronnie rambles on at a mile per minute, barely stopping to catch her breath.

“Whoa whoa whoa. Take a breath Ron and slow down. You really need to get over your obsession with Jug’s hair. It’s weird. When’s dinner by the way? I’m starving.” Betty rubs her belly, remembering she barely ate anything all day in lieu of the spontaneous photoshoot. The cliché saying I’m so hungry I could eat a horse was uncannily fitting for her at the moment. Needing a snack she peeks her head into the fridge and grabs out a box of strawberries, wishing it were chicken tenders.

“Don’t think you can just change the subject like that. And we were thinking maybe 7:30ish?”

Betty removes her phone from her ear and checks the time. “But it’s 7 o’clock right now.”

“Well maybe if you had been paying attention to your phone, you would’ve known about the dinner when I texted it to you over an hour ago. What was so riveting that you’ve been ignoring me?”

Betty blushes. She was having way too much fun making Ronnie suffer, so she told a little white lie. “Nothing Ronnie. We did the shoot. We came home. We uh, we took a nap.”

Ronnie squeals on the other end, so loudly Betty can actually hear it through the walls across the hall. “Any chance this nap happened together, with the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms? Come on Betty don’t let me down. You can’t just photograph your best friend in the nude and not let it lead somewhere.”

Betty’s breath becomes shallow as she relives the previous afternoon. She’s completely dazed as she pops a strawberry into her mouth, chewing the sweet fruit and tossing the stem into the garbage. “Veronica we’re friends. You need to get your pretty little head out of the gutter and relax.” Betty’s stomach growls. “So where were you planning on taking us for dinner? I’m assuming it’s your treat, Ms. Lodge.”

“Probably Pop’s, like always. You know, I don’t know why I bother to call you when you live right across the hall. I’m coming over.”

Before Betty can persist, the other line clicks dead and soon Ronnie is at their door, pounding away. Betty unlocks the door and lets her friend in. “What a nice surprise it is to see you.”

“Why was the door locked? You guys never lock the door.” There’s a coy smile playing at the edges of Ronnie’s lips and Betty tugs at the hem of her sweater. Ronnie’s eyes were speculative as they roved over Betty’s body, looking for some sort of sign that something happened between her and Jughead. In a haste, Betty lifts a hand to cover her neck, praying there are no lingering marks from when nipped and kissed at her tender skin.

“You know we do live in a rather busy city, we decided it’s probably best. Crime rates these days are sky rocketing.”

Ronnie furrows her brow, not buying Betty’s lame excuses. “You’re acting weird Betty. Come on, just tell me what happened. Was it weird, being photographed naked? Oh my god did it not go well? Are you guys fighting?”

Before Betty has a chance to respond, the door to the bathroom opens and Jughead steps out wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. “Betty did you miss me?” He calls down the hall, unaware of Ronnie’s presence in their kitchen. Jughead enters and at the sight of Ronnie he loses his footing on the linoleum, slipping and dropping the towel in the process. “Oh shit, when did you get here?”

Ronnie looks as though she just witnessed a miracle. “Nice way to greet someone Jug.” Her gaze travels approvingly over Jughead's body and Betty is suddenly fully aware of the fact that Jughead’s towel is no longer covering him. She feels the heat flush in her cheeks. “So enlighten me Betts, which by the way you’re turning a rather bright shade of puce. Why would Jughead suppose that you missed him while he’s in the shower?”

Jughead scrambles to his feet, retying the towel around his waist and backing himself out of the awkward situation before him. “I’m gonna go get dressed.” Betty swears under her breath, wishing she had an escape route of her own.

Betty grabs Ronnie by the wrist and drags her into her bedroom. “Sit there.” She tells her, shoving Ronnie onto her bed as she begins to pace around the tight space. Betty begins furiously gnawing at her lip, realizing she should probably put on a bra before they go out to eat. With her back to Ronnie she quickly changes, clasping on a plain nude bra and changing sweaters. When she turns around she joins Ronnie on the bed and rests her head on her best friend’s shoulder, while pulling at the sleeves of her sweater, her anxiety getting the best of her. “If I tell you what happened will you please shut up about the whole thing?” Betty asks with her eyes on the floor.

Ronnie twists her body so that she’s facing Betty, and grabs her friend’s hands. “I am all ears Betts.”

Betty takes a deep breath and opens her mouth, suddenly pouring out her words like an open faucet. Ronnie clings to each word with bated breath, nodding along as she listens to Betty rehash out the events of the afternoon. At the mention of the kiss Ronnie lets out a long exaggerated sigh and touches her heart. Betty’s leg begins to jitter as she describes the way Jughead felt against her skin, describing it as best she can, calling it an out of body experience. “It was amazing Ronnie.” Betty finally finishes, as her heart swells inside her chest.

It takes her a second but soon Ronnie, is rolling over the bed, squealing as she kicks her legs in the air excitedly. “I knew it!” She yells and Betty tries to calm her, but she can’t help geeking out with her friend.

“Just keep it on the down low, OK? We haven’t had a chance to discuss what this means. I don’t know what’s going to happen from here on out. I mean, we live together and now we’ve slept together.”

“First off, hell yeah you did, I am swooning at that retelling. Secondly, I approve 150% of this new development. And thirdly, stop worrying so much about what’s going to happen and just go along with the flow.” Ronnie reaches up and rubs her thumb along Betty’s forehead. “You’re too young to have worry lines.”

Betty swats Ronnie’s hand away and falls back onto the mattress. “But what if things don’t work out?”

Ronnie leans back beside her, curling her head under Betty’s arm. “What if they do?”

Jughead enters the room, pulling the girls from their thoughtful stupor. Betty sits up at the intrusion, happy to see he’s fully clothed with his beanie back on his head. “I hate to bother you guys, but earlier Betty mentioned food, and I’m positively famished.”

Ronnie laughs and steps up off the bed, pulling Betty along with her. “Oh I’m sure you worked up an appetite today.” Betty groans and hides her face in her hands. What was she thinking, Ronnie was never able to keep anything on the DL. She was so extra about everything. And the news about her and Jughead had her friend absolutely shook with feelings. “Let me just go get Archie and we’ll leave!”

Jughead leans against the door frame, hands deep inside his pockets. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you told her?” he asks, a wet curl falling into his face.

Betty feels so small under his icy gaze. She hugs herself tightly and draws her lip in between her teeth. “She wouldn’t give up. You know Ronnie and how persistent she can be.”

He kicks away from the door and pulls her lip from its grasp. “It’s OK Betty, I’m not mad.” He’s about to lean down for a kiss when Ronnie calls to them from the kitchen. He sighs and brushes his lips against her temple adoringly. “We’ll talk later, I promise. There is so much that needs to be said.”

꙰

The gang gathers together in the corner booth of Pop’s all laughs and smiles. Jughead gets lost in a conversation with Archie about video games while Betty and Ronnie discuss much more trivial matters, like the most recent episode of some new show they’ve been watching together on Netflix. Beneath the table Jughead’s hand rests on Betty’s knee, tapping his fingers like drums against her jeans. Ever since that afternoon he can’t help but touch her and it encouraged him that Betty seemed to feel the same way.

When the waitress comes by to take their orders Jughead requests two burgers and settles on sharing a basket of fries with Betty. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this hungry. He was ready for a feast.

“I bet you won’t even finish all that,” Archie tells him in shock.

“Watch me.” The waitress laughs and Jughead adds on another item. “And since I’m not paying for this meal…I’ll have a chocolate milkshake as well.” He winks in Ronnie’s direction and grips Betty’s knee a little tighter. Jughead loves a challenge.

“And why is it my job to pay?” Ronnie asks.

“Betty fed you with juicy gossip. Now you must feed us with delectable food.” Ronnie falls back against the booth and crosses her arms in defeat.

Archie quirks an eyebrow, perplexed. “What gossip? Why am I always the last to know everything?”

Ronnie lifts a hand and ruffles his ginger hair sweetly. “Because you’re too stuck in your own world to notice anything else, Baby.”

“Thanks Ronnie. But that doesn’t answer my question. What’s going on?”

Ronnie opens her mouth to speak but abruptly stops when someone kicks her under the table. “What the hell Betty?”

Betty sits up a little straighter in the booth and reaches for her water, taking a lazy sip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ronnie grabs a sugar packet and throws it Betty, before turning to Archie and plunging into the story. “Jughead and Betty had sex this afternoon.”

The waitress couldn’t have picked a better or more awkward time to bring them their food. As soon as his plate is set down in front of him, Jughead chows down, filling his mouth with fries, watching the scene unfold before him. “I told you that in confidence.” Betty laments, taking a bite of her chicken tenders. “And this is not something we should be talking about at dinner.”

“Technically it’s not my fault. Your boyfriend over there was the one that brought it up in the first place. If it hadn’t been for Jughead, Archie wouldn’t have asked.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Betty mumbles. She takes the ketchup bottle and squeezes out a little pile for her fries. Jughead nods along with her words and dips a fry into her ketchup, swallowing the hurt he tries to hide on his face. From her tone it didn’t sound like Betty wanted him to be her anything.

The four of them sit in silence the rest of the meal. They avoid each other’s eyes and focus solely on the food in front of them. Twenty minutes later and Jughead is stuffed as he slurps down the last bit of his shake, setting it down on the table while popping the cherry in his mouth.

He finally breaks the quiet. “Well Andrews, looks like you owe me ten bucks.” He rubs his belly heartily and smiles, forgiving a burp that escapes his mouth.

“That’s disgusting.” Archie laughs and hands Jughead a ten dollar bill. “By the way, you’re leaving the tip.”

Jughead groans and leaves the cash on the table. He stands up ready to leave, offering Betty his hand. She ignores it and walks ahead of the rest of them, exiting the diner before they even get a chance to put their coats on.

“Thanks Ronnie, you just had to go and fuck everything up.” He throws on his coat and runs towards the door. He sees Betty already halfway down the block. He would run but he’s practically bursting and ready to fall into a food coma at any minute. He calls after retreating figure. “Betty wait!” But she’s already turning the corner, disappearing into the night.

#bughead #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #bughead fanfiction #my writings #i love bughead so much

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boraxquinn · 7 years

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question 1-150

I FINALLY FINISHED THEM ALL! Sehun you better read EVERY DAMN ANSWER!

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? My fiancee 2. Are you outgoing or shy? Outgoing3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? Hmm… All my kids at my wedding4. Are you easy to get along with? I think so5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Yes. But he would probably get drunk with me. 6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Someone who is confident but not overly cocky, has a sweet side to them, and someone who likes to go to the gym or is into sports. Also liking dogs is a must.7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Of course! I’m going to always stay with my future hubby. 8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? MY FIANCEE! Always! lol9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? It depends on who I’m with. But most of the time nope. 10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Jennie @jen-niek11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? I haven’t texted everyone lately lol 12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? 1. Red Velvet - Ice Cream Cake 2. Ed Sheeran - photograph 3. Mamamoo - Mr. Ambiguous 4. Little Mix - Weird people 5. Apink - I don’t know13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Yes! 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Yes15. What good thing happened this summer? To be honest, this summer hasn’t been happy for me. 16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Yes cause it was my hubby 17. Do you think there is life on other planets? YES THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE! 18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Nope19. Do you like bubble baths? Yes20. Do you like your neighbors? I don’t really talk to them lol 21. What are you bad habits? I couldn’t really tell you. I don’t pay enough attention to that kind of stuff. 22. Where would you like to travel? Brazil, Greece, Hawaii. Just to name a few. 23. Do you have trust issues? Yes. I don’t trust anyone besides my close friends and family. 24. Favorite part of your daily routine? When I get to walk my dogs and play with them outside. 25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? I don’t like that my skin is darker. I always try to lighten it with my makeup which I know it bad but I can’t help it. 26. What do you do when you wake up? Feed my dogs. If my fiancee lets me get out of bed that is. 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Lighter28. Who are you most comfortable around? Kihyun, Minhyuk, the other girls in Sistar, my hubby. 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Oh yes. 30. Do you ever want to get married? I am getting married! 31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail? It is now. It’s finally starting to grow long again. 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Umm… (/she laughs) I won’t say. 33. Spell your name with your chin. This sounds like something Sehun would tell me to do so I won’t do it (/sticks her tongue out) 34. Do you play sports? What sports? I play soccer or football depending on where your from Volleyball, and archery. 35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yes37. What do you say during awkward silences? I try to start a new conversion. 38. Describe your dream girl/guy? (/Points at my fiancee/ soon to be husband) It’s him. 39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? omg I have lots! I like the usual high new brands in Korea but I also shop were I can find a lot of cute nerdy stuff. HerUniverse has a lot of cute clothes for girls. Also (/cough) Hot topic cause lots of Harley stuff (/cough). Oh and Boxlunch is good too. 40. What do you want to do after high school? I wanted to be a dancer. 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? It depends on what they did. 42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? It means that I’m probably angry or upset about something. Cause I love to talk so if I stop, it means something happened. 43. Do you smile at strangers? Sure44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Outer Space 45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? I get up and work through my day knowing that I have the love and support from so many friends and fans. 46. What are you paranoid about? People from my past could be watching me and waiting for a time when I’m at my weakest. 47. Have you ever been high? Nope 48. Have you ever been drunk? Oh yes 49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? I killed Exo’s Sehun but other than that nope xD 50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Grey51. Ever wished you were someone else? Yes52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? I WANT TO BE TALLER53. Favourite makeup brand? Urban Decay Cause there purple makeup gives me life! 54. Favourite store? Right now it’s BoxLunch55. Favourite blog? I love all the Harley Quinn blogs I follow. 56. Favourite colour? PINK!…. I’m just kidding it’s purple. 57. Favourite food? I love all foods but seafood is my favorite. 58. Last thing you ate? Bibibop59. First thing you ate this morning? Eggs with bacon and toast with strawberry jam. 60. Ever won a competition? For what? Yes! I have won many competitions for archery and cross country running. 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Nope62. Been arrested? For what? Nope63. Ever been in love? Yes64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? No. Nope. Too cheesy and cringe worthy. 65. Are you hungry right now? YES PLEASE SOMEONE GET ME FOOD I HAVE BEEN ANSWERING THESE QUESTIONS FOR TWO DAYS!!!!! 66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? All my tumblr friends are my real friends so… yes? 67. Facebook or Twitter? Instagram lol 68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr69. Are you watching tv right now? Nope. Youtube. 70. Names of your bestfriends? @tiffxny-alive @trulyxbeniboo @sovou @jen-niek@trulyxhyukron @trulykihyun @trulyxminhyuk @trulyxchangkyun @kimxdxnghyvn@chisapuppy @j0ngie @shn-wxnho @hvllelujah To name a few71. Craving something? What? Chocolate ice cream with caramel on top. Lots of whipped cream. And chocolate chip cookies. Can you tell I’m pregnant? lol 72. What colour are your towels? Random colors. None of them are the same. 72. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two. Sometimes three.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Sometimes. Most of the time I just cuddle my puppies or my cat.

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? As Shownu would say “Too many” xD 75. Favourite animal? Other than dogs, I really like Pandas. 76. What colour is your underwear? WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW SEHUN?! YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! 77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate 78. Favourite ice cream flavour? chocolate chip cookie dough or strawberry. 79. What colour shirt are you wearing? White and Black80. What colour pants? Black81. Favourite tv show? X FILES 82. Favourite movie? I love lots of movies. Right now it’s Doctor Strange. 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Mean Girls 84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls 85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Karen Smith 86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Dory 87. First person you talked to today? Stupid Sehun @sehxnooh88. Last person you talked to today? Shownu @nxghtlilac89. Name a person you hate? Woobin aka the devil. If I see him again, I’m gonna kill him. 90. Name a person you love? Tatsuya @taiyou-no-uta91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Sehun xD 92. In a fight with someone? Nope 93. How many sweatpants do you have? One 94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? 6 or 7 95. Last movie you watched? Iron man 96. Favourite actress? MARGOT ROBBIE. Come on you should all know this by now 97. Favourite actor? Johnny Depp 98. Do you tan a lot? Nope 99. Have any pets? I have three dogs: Sky,Seolie, and Sugar. One cat named Selina. 100. How are you feeling? Good. Just tired of all these questions! 101. Do you type fast? Yes 102. Do you regret anything from your past? Many things but I learned from them. 103. Can you spell well? Sure? lol I think I can. 104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yes 105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yes 106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Sadly yes 107. Have you ever been on a horse? Yes 108. What should you be doing? I should be finishing the final touches of my wedding plans and yet I’m here doing this. 109. Is something irritating you right now? THAT I HAVE TO ANSWER ALL OF THESE 110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Yes 111. Do you have trust issues? I say no, other people say yes. 112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Either Kihyun or my fiancee. 113. What was your childhood nickname? BoraBora 114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yes 115. Do you play the Wii? Not anymore 116. Are you listening to music right now? Nope. Watching X files. 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Sure 118. Do you like Chinese food? Yes 119. Favourite book? The Killing Joke120. Are you afraid of the dark? Nope121. Are you mean? Nope 122. Is cheating ever okay? NO123. Can you keep white shoes clean? Yes 124. Do you believe in love at first sight? Yes 125. Do you believe in true love? Yes 126. Are you currently bored? Very Bored. 127. What makes you happy? My dogs, My fiancee, reading Harley Quinn comics, Shopping, drawing, being with my friends. 128. Would you change your name? No I love my name. 129. What your zodiac sign? Capricorn 130. Do you like subway? Not really 131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? I would be flattered but I’m not interested. I’m happy with the relationship I’m in now. 132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? I can’t remember 133. Favourite lyrics right now? “Beautiful love, If you’re under the same sky with me. I would like to be just breathing. It’s a beautiful life, beautiful day. I’ll live in your memories.” - Beautiful by Crush. 134. Can you count to one million? Yes but I would get bored half way through. 135. Dumbest lie you ever told? “I hate the color purple.” 136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Open 137. How tall are you? 165cm ( 5′5″) 138. Curly or Straight hair?Straight 139. Brunette or Blonde? Blonde 140. Summer or Winter? Summer 141. Night or Day? Day 142. Favourite month? July143. Are you a vegetarian? Nope 144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Milk Chocolate 145. Tea or Coffee? Tea 146. Was today a good day? It was until I wasted it answering these dumb questions! SEHUN! 147. Mars or Snickers? Snickers148. What’s your favourite quote? “I didn’t even get to keep my new dress! And I ACTUALLY PAYED FOR IT!” - Harley Quinn149. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? “Dressed up in white flannels I went over to his lawn a little after seven, and wandered around rather ill at ease among swirls and eddies of people I didn’t know- though here and there was a face I had noticed on the commuting train.” The Great Gatsby

#b;asks #sehxnooh #I need a nap now

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