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visionsofmagic · 1 year

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Hiiiiii... I've come to bother you again... It's just a stupid idea and you don't have to do anything with it... I'm sorry...

When we were at the very beginning of our career, a lot of people were joking, and someone, really believed, that in many years, we would take the place of Homelander, as a leader. Of course, Homelander himself didn't like this idea. But, sometimes, even to him that thoughts came, that he was not eternal, that, let it really be us, and not some "second-rate hero"... After all, the memory of him will live in us. But such thoughts are extremely rare, and he quickly banishes it.

But we never aimed for a place in the Seven. The Seven is directly associated with papa, respectively, if there is no papa, there will be no the Seven. The logic of the child works flawlessly. And now, that we have been away from all this for so long, we realized, that ratings and popularity are not an indicator of a real hero. Yes, we are talking about banal things, but saving the most unhappy and the happiest, the most diverse people, preventing a variety of problems, we came to the conclusion, that it is necessary to save qualitatively, not beautifully. Well, yes, of course, daddy's influence in us still remained. "The only super powers, that absolutely all people have, is creating new problems and putting everything and everything in danger. Well, we solve these very problems," and we smile innocently.

The triumphant return and getting to know the Seven again, a failed. We are already well aware of our daddy's affairs. And the rest of the supes, too. We wish we could never see their vile, corrupt faces... Well, in any case, we will not be angry at absolutely all the heroes, we have a specific goal.

We remember the Seven quite poorly, we didn't communicate with them much, when we were a child and a teenager. Well, it's clear why - dad's jealous nature. So, we don't see any global changes... Everyone is just as nasty, as before... Only thing, we don't remember this lady at all... Oh, Starlight joined when we were away, nice... "Well, it's very nice to meet you. Not bad, finally someone, more or less, close in age. You have a wonderful costume, Starlight." Well, at least she's nice and polite, and thanks for that...

Well, at least the ladies here aren't so bad, it seems... "Ladies and gentlemen, it was nice to see you all and, - we smiled at the blonde, - meet you. Have a nice day to you all. - We nodded towards the women, - ladies, - nodded to the men, - gentlemen, goodbye." We did not say goodbye to Homelander, who had been standing at the window, behind us all this time. "Gentlemen" is enough for him.

We tried to be very polite and nice to them. But this damned association between the Seven and Homelander... Okay, okay, fine, we're not a child anymore and we understand, that Homelander is not the whole Seven. Homelander is not all supes. Deep breath, look at the sky and calm dow.. Why is his... Not nice face staring at us, from every damn wall?

Yes, we understood, that we were rude and unfriendly with the leader of the heroes. No, we are not ashamed or afraid. No, we will not work with him in pairs!

Just fine... We yelled at Ashley, just like he yells at her... We need to apologize to her and find an exorcist, to expel this evil spirit from ourself...

And then, the day came, when a very beautiful lady, having learned about our whole situation with Homelander, told us, what an amazing confession he made to her once. About starting a family. About children. Oh, isn't that wonderful? So, all these rare: "well, it will sound very... Pathetic. But, Y/n, - dad hugged our cheeks with his palms, - you are a part of me. It doesn't matter, that we are not blood, you are my favorite and best, only one and precious child. - Papa gently kissed us on the forehead and hugged us tightly." "I love you, daddy..." "Happy birthday, baby. - And he touched his nose to ours. - I'm glad I have you..." Means nothing... Just wonderful...

Well, it was clearly not worth apologizing to Ashley... Not only, do we have the same task with him, so we also had to sleep in the same room with him..! "Oh, run, stupid woman, oh, run..."

The night was surprisingly cold. Usually we are not very sensitive to cold/not worry much about temperatures/quite sensitive to cold, but tonight we were frozen. We're chilled to the bone. And Homelander lay down next to us and hugged us, pressing tightly to him... And he also told us to shut up and get warm... And that's where the problem arises. We don't want to breathe the same air with him, but he's so warm... He's so warm, and... So cozy... So familiar... It feels, like none of this happened, and everything is fine. We're safe, with papa...

And last week such, well, an embarrassment happened... Well, in short, while we were pulling out this idiot, who arranged all this, from under the rubble, a large piece of concrete rolled down the column at us, with rebars sticking out of it... And we didn't see it, we tried to save this dumbass. And... Well... And, Homelander covered us with himself... Naturally, he was not injured, he is Homelander, after all, only a torn costume and a couple of minor wounds... But. But why? Why did he do it? And then, he turned to us... He looked at us, with his sad, bottomless eyes and...

Oh. Well, that makes sense then... Just look at how his ratings soared after that incident. Just wonderful...

I needed an empty head to read this one (why I couldn't read it so far, waiting a little) because after reading the first passage I understand that you are using a very interesting and wonderful writing style and again (yes again) I am saying that you should really be the one who write this one.

you are already have a map on your mind, every character's design and features, how scenes from series changed with y/n's presences, how she had an inner self that really complex. I loved every detail from the first message to this one and I see how your ideas on the story grew well and strong as a whole. so, again, I am asking you to write this magnificent pieces as a story on your own or we definitely can collaborate. I really want you to the writer of this one and me as an assistance or helper.

think about this and thanks for making the story more and more interesting and permanent in my mind. I really want to read it from you, or well write it down it you want me to again. but I hope you will be the one because I loved the way you express your ideas into words. ♥️

#the boys #homelander x reader #homelander x daughter!reader #papa homie #anon #(but the same we see in other papa!homelander messages #I love the anon's creativity and imagination #♥️

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gontagokuhara · 7 months

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OMG THAT LAST CHAPTER AAAAA my boys 🥹 if you hadn't said it on here, I would've never known you struggled w/writing Kokichi, it seriously feels so natural and I LOVE when authors include that clowny jester vibe to him!! But now that we're REALLY REALLY into the thicc of the story, I'm realizing how much I miss the camp!! idk about everyone else, but it was always the most interesting setting for me when I was into Percy Jackson! So basically I'm gonna annoy you with my barrage of questions that are 100% unrelated to the most recent chapter 😭

I know it was mentioned that Maki's cabin was undecorated for a long time, but did she ever get to personalizing it? I'd love to know about the cabins and their designs! I'd also love to know what kind of stuff they do at the talent shows? Idk if its the fact that the fic is based off the pjo musical, but I get theatre kid vibes from specifically kaede (even if she can't sing LOL) Speaking of her, since it was mentioned that she could play any instrument, I'm wondering if there were instruments /canon-specifically-talent-related equipment at camp for everyone? Also some of the dialogue had me questioning if they're even allowed to curse at camp or not 😭

HIIIIII im finally getting to this <3 first of all i love you im kissing u on the forehead every time i get an ask or comment from u it makes my whole day.

answers to ur questions beneath the cut as always!!

i also miss camp </3 i was talking about this with someone else yday (hiiiii evan) but in a universe where pointy objects reaches its end and i STILL want more.....there are little one-off scenes that dont fit into the main narrative of the fic but i'd still theoretically like to write......and the immediate reaction to the campers (+ hajime and nagito) realizing seven of them went missing along with an rv. it would be a lot of dialogue but the phone calls nagito had to make to all the parents of the missing (good and bad) kids. also the godly meetings where shit went bad, and then really bad, and then somehow even worse. pointy objects has always been very v3-centric given our main characters, but some of my favorite chapters so far have been when i've been able to feel out characters from the other games as well.

ok. THAT was a big tangent LMFAO ok re: maki: yes! it took a long time; she had very little interest in doing decoration shopping or really Anything in the first year or so after arriving at camp/her friend's death (she also did not see her situation as static or permanent — no point in something like that, y'know?). for her 14th birthday, kaede took the reins on planning with nagito a cabin design that she thought maki might like; and now presently, her cabin has a "red velvet" theme! DIY headboard for her bed made with literal red velvet that kaede and maki built themselves, plush red sheets, red walls (another eyesore of a cabin...), with a small collection of photos and trinkets and artwork and decorations she's amassed over the years since. she has a picture of her parents sitting in the bottom drawer of her dresser than only kaede knows about.

as for the others — i take a lot of inspiration from their research labs, but i haven't plotted out in my head exactly how they all look, y'know? miu's is definitely very lab-like, angie's paints her walls white at the beginning of every summer and over the summer months fills them corner to corner with new designs, kiyo's has more bookshelves than wall space, the like.

now: talent shows! it's very informal, with prizes like choosing the next camp-wide game, getting out of dinner duty for a week, etc. classic staples include himiko's magic shows (with tenko as a willing and eager assistant) (who also will at times retrieve less willing participants from the audience) (usually nagito). miu tries her own "magic tricks" that usually involve adding new features to kiibo and making them parade them around onstage; kiibo gets their comeuppance by forcing miu to learn kpop dance choreo and perform with them (as kokichi films, naturally). kaede can play instruments to get around the limitations of her power (also yes — 100% theater kid, alongside kiyo [+ kokichi, who wont admit it]), and there's a whole collection of instruments in the girls' common area that she's mastered/is working on learning (her most recent is a theremin that she and kiyo are both very interested in). it's a lot of repeats, because there are some kids who always prefer to chill in the audience rather than get onstage themselves, but everyone has lots of fun <3 (except nagito [usually made to suffer during them] and hajime [often tasked with tie-breaking the winner, also suffering])

as for ur last question: TRUST they are definitely allowed to swear. hajime would've exploded years ago if that wasn't the case. the barrier they erected following tsumugi's massacre is capable of a lot of things, but nothing can defeat the resigned frustration of wrangling a clusterfuck of the weirdest demigods they've ever dealt with (/fond)

WOW that got long again! good thing i love it <3

#ask #bittercideristaken #pointy objects #dr

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daylightaftertherain · 1 year

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hiiiiii sea!!! how r u bestie???

3 and 22 for the meet uglys <33

ellaaaaa hii!!! I'm pretty good today :D

3. meeting in the bathroom at a house party, battling over who needs the bathroom more

A hand closes over Simon's hand just as he grabs the door handle to what's hopefully a door that locks, and he jerks back, heart racing. Is it-

A tall, blonde boy cocks his head curiously. "Uh, hi? Sorry if I scared you, but I really need the bathroom," he says. "I'm Wille, by the way."

"Yeah, I know who you are," Simon sighs, "Prince, friends with the richest girl here and all that, blah blah blah. Anyway, I need the bathroom, and I got here first. Fuck off." He usually would be more polite, but avoiding Marcus for the entire party had been grating on his nerves already.

"Well, excuse you," Wille replies, unimpressed. "I'm hosting this party with Felice, and I know for a fact that you've been sitting in a corner for the last two hours without touching anything, so I'm guessing I need the bathroom more than you." If Simon wasn't so frustrated, he'd probably find the way Wille runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly cute, but right now, he's about two seconds away from punching him.

"I don't don't if you've ever heard this in your life, but no. Go find another bathroom. There's probably ten of them in this place."

"Why don't you do that, then?" Simon's going to claw his own eyes out.

"Okay, fine, I don't need to go, but I just need a place to like, chill for a minute or so," he admits, aware of how desperate he sounds already. Wille's face goes from closed off to mildly concerned in a heartbeat.

"There are other bathrooms, you know?" he offers. Simon wants to bash his dumb, blond head through a wall. And also maybe kiss him. He hates it here so much.

"I can't, seriously, just move, Wille. Sorry if I'm being rude or something, but I'm kinda out of options here," Simon groans. Then, before he can stop himself, "this is cliché and stupid, but I'm kinda avoiding my ex, who thinks he's still with me, and he just showed up at this party. I just- I don't want to do the whole screaming match with your asshole ex thing in front of everyone tonight."

Wille blinks. Simon can practically see the cogs turn in his head. "Uh, hello?"

"Oh- okay. Um, who's your ex?"

"Marcus."

"Wait, Marcus from the stables?"

"Yeah, him."

"Fuck him, then." A surprised sound erupts in Simon's mouth, and he sees the corner of Wille's mouth quirk up.

"Fine, you can have the bathroom. The door locks, and uh, I'll go find another one, and after that I could find you and make sure Marcus doesn't try to approach you or something. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Simon says, "and uh, thanks? You're nicer than I thought you'd be." Wille chuckles drily.

"Did August get to you already?"

"Just go find your other bathroom, asshole."

-💜🚪-

22. hammering on their neighbor's door to make them turn off the music since it's 3 am

(oh my god I have ideas for this ahsskfasdfjk. also the music is obviously still taylor :))

The first night, Wille thinks, okay. His neighbor's probably just having fun with friends.

The second night, he's slightly more annoyed, but reasons it has to stop by tomorrow, right? He can handle two nights of interrupted sleep. Not like his insomnia wasn't already doing that.

It doesn't stop. Not on the third day, or the day after that. After a week, he's gotten tired of listening to reputation blast through his walls at three in the morning. He has a headache, and he has to get up early for Madison's birthday party in three hours, and the music hasn't stopped blasting from the other apartment for seven fucking hours.

He wraps himself up in a blanket because a) it's November, and b) he's too tired to worry about his asshole neighbor judging him for trudging down the hall in fluffy pajamas and a Tangled blanket he'd stolen from one of the girls. It's three in the morning, he could give less of a fuck.

He raises a hand and promptly starts hammering on his neighbor's door for a full minute, until the music stops abruptly and he hears a muffled curse and something falling. A mean little voice in his head hopes his stupid neighbor broke something. The door flies open, and Wille gets a good look at the asshole for the first time.

Asshole neighbor is pretty. Fuck. He needs sleep.

"Uh, hi? Sorry, is this about the noise? I didn't realize how late it was, and I'm just now realizing how much that makes me sound like a dick." Wille comes out of his half-asleep haze, then reminds himself of why he's here.

"Hi. Yeah, I was just going to ask you if you could um, turn down the music? I haven't been able to sleep properly in over a week," he says, voice scratchy from disuse. "I'm your neighbor, by the way. Wille."

"Simon. And sorry about the music, seriously. I can only focus if there's music in the background, and I try to limit it to the day, when everyone's out, but I keep losing track of time."

"For a week?" Wille's voice comes out incredulous, and cracks on the last word. Simon winces.

"Again, I'm really sorry about that, won't happen again. It's just," he waves a hand behind him, "college assignments, and memorizing sheet music for a performance, and the painting thing I'm doing to cover my rent. Is there like, any way I can make it up to you?"

Wille shrugs. "Just use headphones or something," he says tiredly, and because his mouth has apparently seperated from his brain, "you're really pretty, by the way." He wants to throw himself into a black hole. Why.

He shuffles off double-time before he can register Simon giggling behind him, and buries himself in his bed until his demonic alarm starts beeping the the devil spawn it is three hours later.

There's a cup of still-hot coffee waiting on his doormat, with a sticky note that reads, you're really pretty too <3 and below that, hang out with me some time other than three am?

-💜🌙-

#ask game #karma-is-a-queen #young royals #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm

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wildestdreamsblog · 3 years

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You should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in the darkened room

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (au) x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol consumption, Sexual themes, mention of death. If you’re not 18+ please do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings.

A/N: HIIIIII. Here we go again! This is a story set in an alternative universe where Bucky is a single dad, a soft single dad. Thank you for all the support! Hope you enjoy! Thank you for all the likes, replies, and reblogs!

Gorgeous: Beginning, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, End

You woke up with a start, your head pounding as if punishing you for drinking the night away. You touched your head, wincing as you sit up. Your eyes took in the unfamiliar room you were currently in. With your whole being suddenly in alert, you started taking in the details of where you were currently at, of the beefy arms surrounding your waist, of the huge shirt you were wearing that was definitely not yours. The last thing you remembered last night was going to the local pub with your college friends, of celebrating before the school where you work at opens again, of drinking your heart out as your friends bought another round, of a man watching you from across the bar surrounded by his friends- of him cornering you and asking you if he could kiss you... of you nodding once before you felt his lips on yours.

Oh. My. God.

Slowly, you turned your head to the man sleeping behind you. He was sleeping peacefully, his face turned to you. His muscular body was shirtless, only clad with a black boxers that was clinging to his sculpted- You shook your head to effectively stop whatever you were going to think. Slowly, you lifted his heavy arm away from you, watching his face for any signs of consciousness. He started making an annoyed noise at the back of his throat, almost hugging you again when you pushed a pillow on him- effectively calming him down.

"Oh my god" you mouthed as you anxiously searched for your clothes, not minding the buzzing pain you were feeling on your chest. You took a once last look at the large man sleeping on the bed before escaping.

"What do you mean you woke up with a tattoo?" your co-teacher and best friend, whispered as she smiled at the young students who were done for the day. Children were excitedly chatting and walking towards their guardians. "How can you forget how you got it?"

It had been a week since that fateful night, your memory still hazy. You were never much of a drinker to begin with, and that night you might have just let yourself go a little too much. Might have been due to the fact that you heard your ex-boyfriend proposed to the girl he had always compared you to, might have been not.

'Look at Anna, why can't you be like her?'

'Anna's working but she still has time for the gym.. why can't you do that too?'

Asshole.

You waved goodbye to the children as they passed you, "I really, really, for the love of all that's holy, have no explanation for this." You absentmindedly touched your unwanted tattoo. You showered as soon as you got home, looked down on your chest, and shrieked as you ran to the mirror naked. You tried touching it but it was painful. You tried scrubbing it days after, tried being the operative word, as it wouldn't come off. The night before was still hazy. You almost wanted to come back to the man you woke up with just to know how you got this- you meant, he must have an idea, right?

"I didn't forget what happened...my memories are just misplaced. They'll come back to me....eventually."

Eventually came faster than you would have preferred.

Your eyes went down to the seven-year old Braxton, a very polite and intelligent kid from your class the previous year. "Hi, teacher Y/N!"

"Oh hi, Braxton. Where's your grandmother?" You looked around, usually he was one of the first children out of the school as his grandmother was a strict and haughty old lady, always looking at you and other teachers down on her straight, aristocrat nose. You've always wondered how someone as polite as Braxton can be associated with that lady. But of course, you didn't verbally say it. His parents must be kind people. They were lucky to have him

Braxton smiled at you, showing some of his missing teeth which only made him cuter in your eyes, "My dad's picking me up today!"

"There you are."

You turned to look at his father, your pleasant smile ready on your face as you faced him. Him. He was smirking, his head cocked to the side as his eyebrows lifted in an arrogant manner. His eyes telling you that he recognized you, that he remembered you. That you haven't left his mind ever since.

"I've been looking for you." His deep voice, that deep voice.

I've never tasted lips as soft as yours

His deep, booming laugh as you held on to him for dear life, wind blowing you hair.

You're so beautiful

His eyes smiling at you with amusement as he held your hand while the tattoo artist finished his work.

Are you sure?

I've never been more sure.

Him kissing you like a starved man as your back landed on his bedroom wall.

You're so gorgeous

Him kissing your chest lightly, his lips grazing on your tattoo

Where have you been hiding from me, angel?

"Dad, this is my Teacher Y/N." Braxton introduced you to the man who couldn't take his eyes off you.

He lifted his beefy arm to you, offering his large hand, "James Barnes," with so many eyes on you, you had no choice but to put your hand in his to shake. His eyes held amusement, daring you to refuse his hand.

"You can call me Bucky." His deep voice stated, not yet letting go of your hand.

Bucky Barnes.

BB.

The initials tattooed on your chest.

————

Please take note that I give no permission for my work to be reposted or published anywhere other than on my Tumblr account.

REBLOGS ARE MUCHOOO APPRECIATED!!! If you made it this far, comments are highly appreciated! Also, I don’t own the Marvel and any of their work, this is just purely a fanfiction written by a fan!

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfic

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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These People in This Room (Don't Shine Like You) (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

summary: Lawrence has just been crowned the winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK, and Ellie is right beside her. Just like she’s always been.

a/n: omg HIIIIII! here’s my entry to the fic challenge (will it be my only one? who can say). in a shocking turn of events this is not a drabble asdfghjk but would we have expected anything concise from me? this fic was inspired by Shine and Starstruck, both by Years and Years. they are very diamond chaney songs so pls do give them a little listen for full effect! standard procedure, she/her pronouns bc they’re in drag, u know the drill. this has taken me entirely too long to write but pls enjoy some diamond chaney from the night of the crowning! (pls also collectively pretend they had an actual dancefloor to celebrate on and not just a hotel room bc i had already started writing at the point Ellie posted her BTS. fic is just one big serving of pretend anyway xo)

***

It’s somewhere around midnight, the sun has set on Thursday and Friday has crept in, and Lawrence is sitting in a booth with the dancefloor flashing bright colours in front of her, only just daring to believe that this is her actual life.

There is not a single moment that seems real. Even being one of the top four took her essentially since filming stopped to come to terms with. But hearing her name being read out, hearing the other girls cheer for her and being able to do nothing but stare at the screen in disbelief with her hands over her mouth and sob like a baby…that’s not sunk in yet. Maybe it never will. She’s still feeling the after-effects from the way the shock and euphoria had kicked seven shades of shit out of her pulse, the way the serotonin had crashed over her like a wave and the absolute unbridled lack of control she’d had over any of her emotions.

When the cameras had been cut off and they’d been given the all-clear from the producers that they could hug each other, Lawrence had only managed to stand up from the chair, still in floods of tears as Bimini bundled their arms around her, Tayce had jostled them all with the way she’d jumped up and down and yelled in delight, and Ellie had looped her arms around her neck and murmured into her shoulder, words Lawrence couldn’t hear but felt the love from regardless.

It had to be Ellie, really, that crowned her. It was a full-circle moment. She still remembers the night they met for the first time; Dundee in 2016, some time in the early hours of the morning (she’d probably called it ‘bastard o’clock’ or something similar), coming out of the bar and being stopped by a boy in half-drag similar ages with her who spoke rapidly and excitedly and told her that he’d messaged her about starting drag and she’d replied to him. The way realisation had dawned on her and the way she’d been her usual loud and boisterous self to cover up the fact she’d actually been quite bashful about the fact they were meeting for the first time.

There was no alternative, not least because of everything they’ve been through together; the years leading up to this moment and the rollercoaster it’s all been. She’s glad that they’re on a high because they’ve seen each other at their lows (been the cause of each others’ too, sometimes) and pulled through only slightly scathed, but always stronger. The producer had asked Lawrence who she’d wanted and when she, still speechless, had pointed in Ellie’s direction, seeing the tears start to stream down her face had only made Lawrence’s start all over again. They’d hugged- just the two of them this time- and the way Ellie had immediately felt like a safe place in the crazy chaos of reality reminded Lawrence so much of when they had filmed. The way even just hearing Ellie’s voice would stop her feeling homesick, the way she was a living comfort blanket.

She’d never tell that to Ellie, of course, because she’d never hear the end of it if she did.

It’s been a couple of hours and Lawrence is expecting everything to suddenly sink in any minute now. Something will click like the last piece of a puzzle and she’ll finally accept that she’s won, that the whole thing isn’t a giant and premature April fools’ prank. She turns her phone over in her hand, wondering what all this nervous energy is doing to her body chemistry. She’s got messages from her family, her friends, Kiko, the girls she works with back home. Well…some of them. But apart from reading them and frantically replying, Lawrence hasn’t checked anything else; hasn’t opened Twitter or Instagram, where the notifications are piling up like pizza leaflets through a letterbox and are equally as unwanted. If she thinks about them she can feel her stomach twist, wrung out like a wet towel.

Forty thousand likes. The Team Bimini tweet had forty thousand likes. What did her own get? Eight thousand? Lawrence thinks about the sheer scale of forty thousand people, compares it to the population of towns in Scotland. Almost Airdrie. Just under Coatbridge. She imagines a whole town of people, angry and furious and disappointed, and all of them tweeting her to let her know exactly that. She remembers in high school when she thought the whole of Hermitage was against her. She wants to tell baby Lawrence that that was fucking small fry. A thousand kids? Try the sheer scale of Bimini’s fanbase. Her breath is shaky when she tries to breathe in, like her lungs have reduced in size. It reminds her of that time in school camp when they all had to jump from a pier for some unknown-fucking-reason, how freezing the water had been and how her chest felt tight as she gasped for air. Lawrence supposes it was character building in the sense that it prepared her exactly for how anxiety would make her feel later in life.

In for four. Hold for five. Out for six.

“There she is!”

An ever so slightly slurred and wobbly voice breaks Lawrence’s reverie, and when she looks up she sees Ellie approaching her, a little unsteady even in the flats she’s changed into with a glass of prosecco in each hand. It says a lot that even at the top of a helter-skelter of an anxiety spiral, Lawrence’s heart still gives a little swell when she sees her friend. Ellie has always been able to make her feel better. She feels an almost silly sense of relief that she’s here.

Lawrence takes one last little breath in before plastering a small smile to her face. “Awrite? Where’s Mumma Diamond?”

“In her room conked out. Just got back from putting her to bed, she couldn’t hack it. Letting down the family name, that one,” Ellie huffs, sliding into the booth and squashing up right beside Lawrence, even though there’s enough space for two metres distance even if they had still been under strict instructions from the BBC.

“Tayce?” Lawrence asks, gratefully accepting the prosecco glass and hurriedly downing a too-big gulp in an attempt to calm herself down.

“Facetiming A’whora. Of course.”

“Of course. Maybe a bottle and a half of prosecco is gonny be the love potion she never knew she needed.”

“Fuck, we can only hope,” Ellie grins, already laughing through her words. “If we’re gonna be touring with them I don’t wanna have to karate chop through five layers of sexual tension every time I have to walk past them.”

Lawrence chuckles, tired but humoured and unable to not make the so-obvious joke. “You couldny fight sleep.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ll fight you in a minute!” Ellie nudges her with her shoulder and spills both of their prosecco from the glasses in their hands. The gesture is affectionate and out of place with the impending threat. “Where’s Bims? Thought they were with you.”

Lawrence shrugs. “Went out for a smoke with one of the runners about twenty minutes ago and never returned.”

“Good for them. Always thought there’s something inherently sexy about a winch in a back alley.”

“Well, you would know.”

“Eh, so would you!” Ellie cries, nothing short of incredulously offended. Her expression makes her look even more like a cartoon character than usual, and it’s entirely too endearing.

“Yeah, forgot that popular phrase. It takes two to winch in a back alley,” Lawrence jokes, but her heart isn’t in it. It’s too heavy and her ribcage feels like someone laced her into a corset and pulled it too tight. She’s hoping Ellie is too drunk to notice.

Ellie sips her prosecco with her eyes on her, then scrutinises her as she swallows it. She frowns, her nose wrinkling up as she prods Lawrence with an acrylic-nail finger. “What’s up?”

Fuck.

“The sky,” Lawrence says without conviction, and the raised eyebrow Ellie gives her in return is enough to unlock her. She deflates like a balloon and brings her phone up so Ellie can see it, turning it over in her hands. “Just…as happy as I am, and as much as this is all a dream come true…I keep psyching myself up to open any social media, and I can’t, because this one fucking brain cell of anxiety keeps telling me that everyone out there hates me and hates the fact I’ve won.”

Ellie’s face falls into a frown. She gently pries the phone out of her hands and places it on the table, takes one of Lawrence’s free hands in hers and rubs her thumb over her knuckles. “But all your other brain cells know that’s wrong.”

Lawrence sighs. “So why’s that one louder than all the rest?”

Ellie presses her lips together in a badly-suppressed smile. She’s giggling as she speaks. “Because you’ve only got two brain cells.”

Lawrence splutters a laugh, shoving Ellie with her free hand. The other is still laced together with hers. As the laughter dies down and the momentary serotonin wears off, Lawrence can feel her brow furrowing involuntarily. “Forty thousand people wanted Bimini to win, Ellie. Forty thousand. You know that’s like a whole town? That’s like the population of Coatbridge?”

“ Fuck Coatbridge!” Ellie exclaims, affronted, and her shock and insistence makes Lawrence snort all over again. “Okay, forty thousand people is a town but really, what’s that to the rest of the world? Think how tiny that is in the grand scheme of things, Lawrence! Honestly, give a fuck about what any bastard who wants to send you anything vile thinks of you! You’re so amazing! You won! Fuck everyone else!”

Lawrence wants to feel cheered up. The prosecco Ellie’s drunk is making her all the more animated and lively, giving her words a determination and a passion that her speech so rarely possesses most of the time. Ellie is calm, and she doesn’t get wound up easily. There’s something about the fact she’s growing this animated over getting Lawrence to believe in herself that warms her heart a little.

Then again…

“It’s not just that, though. There’s girls from home that haven’t even said well done. Girls I’ve always supported and couldn’t do enough for, and it’s like…really? You can’t be happy for me when I’ve actually managed to do the one thing I’ve wanted to do for years?”

“Well maybe they have said well done, and you’ve just not seen it because you’ve been hiding,” Ellie gestures matter-of-factly at her phone. It doesn’t convince her.

“They won’t have. You’ll know who I’m talking about, Ellie.”

Ellie sighs a little, clearly conceding that Lawrence is right. Her grip on her hand tightens a little, and when Lawrence looks up at her in response her blue eyes hold a glint of assurance.

“Well, even if they haven’t…fuck ‘em. Onwards and upwards, chick. You’ve got ten new sisters out of this who’re always going to know what it’s like, they’re gonna be here for you no matter what,” Ellie says comfortingly. Lawrence knows why she’s said ten and not eleven, but Ellie affirms this with another squeeze and a slightly shy smile. “And you’ve always got me. You’ve always had me.”

This is true. She’s always had Ellie. Before the show, doing gigs with her and hanging out with her and going to DragCon with her. On the show, always there to reassure her or pull her out of a negative spiral or just lean against her shoulder and squeeze her hand. And after the show. Whatever that might look like. Whatever that might be.

She supposes that neither of them know yet.

“C’mon,” Ellie says decisively, holding out a hand for her as the song changes. It’s some sort of Paolo Nutini dirge, and Lawrence has to laugh at how obviously whoever is in charge of the music has rushed to attempt to find something Scottish. Lawrence can only blink at Ellie’s outstretched hand.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Come on! ” Ellie laughs. Lawrence doesn’t know if she’s blushing or if it’s just the lights.

But she does know that she can’t leave Ellie hanging when she’s looking at her like that.

So Lawrence lets herself be dragged out to the dancefloor and pulled into a hug as Ellie sways them left to right ever-so-slightly out of time with the song, tipsy and full of affection given the way her arms are locked around Lawrence’s waist. It should feel stranger than it does. In reality, being held by Ellie feels as simple as just existing.

Or perhaps simpler than that, given the fact that Lawrence’s existence feels entirely surreal right now.

“You have to be in drag for half past se-ven,” Ellie sing-songs, bringing one of her arms out from around Lawrence’s waist and tapping her on the nose. Lawrence immediately misses it, so it’s a relief that it’s not gone for long.

“Because I wo-on,” Lawrence imitates back to her, and the way Ellie squeezes her waist in response and affirmation causes a smile and a blush to bloom on her face without her even being to control it. She rests her head against Ellie’s chest so she can’t have the satisfaction (ammunition) of seeing how she makes her feel.

It’s little moments like that that she needs right now. Anchors to keep her down on earth, to let her know that this isn’t just some really prolonged lucid dream and it’s all actually happening because currently reality is so absurdly ridiculous; she’s just won Drag Race and she’s slow-dancing with Ellie to the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the background, a parody of some American high school prom where she’s just been crowned the queen.

Moments like these- where Ellie’s holding her close as if she’s literally trying to protect her from the world- remind her that not everybody is against her. Not everybody hates her. Not everybody is wishing her a slow and painful death because Bimini didn’t win, least of all them. She knows that Ellie was never able to share what team she was on even though she hadn’t had a chance at the crown, but she didn’t have to. Not really. They’ve always been on each others’ team.

Ellie jolts Lawrence out of her daydream with the way her chest is shuddering, and Lawrence momentarily thinks she’s crying again before her soft giggle becomes audible over the music.

“What?” Lawrence tilts her head up, meeting Ellie’s scheming, smirking face.

“Can’t believe RuPaul Charles asked if you wanted to move to London, city of dreams, city of a thousand opportunities…” Ellie begins, Lawrence already laughing as she knows what the conclusion to her sentence will be. “…and you said, ‘yer awrite pal, am fine in Glesga wi the jakes an’ the Blue Lagoon chippy an’ the guy that stands on Buchanan Street and yells at everyone that they’re going to hell!’ ”

Lawrence would normally roll her eyes at Ellie’s impersonation of her accent, but she’s laughing too much at the joke that’s forming in her head to commit to it. “RuPaul asked if I wanted to move to London, and I said…”

The pair of them are almost giggling too much to get the punchline out, Ellie clocking on to how it’s going to end. In sync, the pair of them splutter out a “… NNNNAAW! ”

Giddy and happy, Lawrence rests her cheek against Ellie’s chest again. “London’s got junkies too, anyway.”

“This is gonna sound really selfish, but…don’t actually move to London,” Ellie’s voice murmurs from above her, and there’s something plaintive to it that makes Lawrence refrain from replying with a joke or a barb like she normally would. The way Ellie follows it up cements that fact. “It would probably be so good for you, but like…Glasgow would be lost without you, genuinely. And so would I.”

Lawrence can’t cry again tonight, even if it’s only because she thinks it’s physically impossible, so she just squeezes Ellie tight until she worries about her ability to breathe. “I’m not going anywhere, hen.”

Lawrence doesn’t even really know what they are, her and Ellie. They both still have Grindr and they talk about their hookups and raised hopes and broken hearts with each other like friends. But they’re not really just that. They’re affectionate, and they open up to each other with the same shared unspoken understanding of something Lawrence doesn’t understand. They hug for too long and cuddle up to each other when they’re together, and Lawrence can’t count the amount of times during filming that she’d find strength in the way Ellie would squeeze her hand without a word. They’ve woken up together too many times (why she’d felt the need to remind Ellie of that while the cameras were rolling, she’ll never know) and kissed each other more than that. Every time they say I love you they mean it, but they also mean a little bit more. There’s no butterflies or fast pulses or fluttering hearts- they’re past that stage. Everything is just natural and normal and easy.

She wonders if they’ll ever put a label on what they have. There’s a part of her that doesn’t ever want to.

“If we’re both still single by the time we’re forty,” Lawrence begins, leaning back to look at Ellie through her glazed, half-drunk half-tired eyes. “…we should just say ‘fuck it’ and get married.”

(She doesn’t even know if it’s a joke or not.)

Ellie laughs as if it is and nods as if it isn’t. “Drag wedding. We’d need to upstage Tayce and A’whora, though.”

Lawrence realises something. “I’ll turn forty two years before you.”

There’s a pause as the song starts to fade out, and it makes Ellie’s murmur seem louder than it is. “That’s okay. We don’t need to wait for me.”

The jolt her words give Lawrence’s heart and the way Ellie’s talking as if it’s an actual plan makes her think maybe it wasn’t really ever a joke after all. It’s ridiculous though, and it’s all theoretical, and it’s a totally hypothetical scenario, and they’re both drunk , for Christ’s sake. So Lawrence pulls out of Ellie’s arms and takes her hands in her own, the song that’s started playing more upbeat and the opening chords inciting some sort of hope and optimism in her heart for the future that’s unfolding for the pair of them.

“One more song then bed?” she suggests. Ellie raises her eyebrows as she looks down at her.

“Whose bed?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dirty Diamond,” Lawrence shoots back without missing a beat, and as the first lines of the song fill the room she leans back and begins to spin the pair of them in a circle, both of them laughing as if everything is as simple as just that room, and the music blaring out from the speakers, and the lights flashing above them drenching them in purple and pink.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #fic challenge #rare pair #uk2 #canon compliant #fluff #ortega #these people in this room (don’t shine like you)

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lost-in-sokovia · 4 years

Text

toxic - chapter 6

hiiiiii! i hope you enjoy this chapter! the reader’s relationship with ransom is expanding even more and i’m super excited to take this farther! (may contain spoilers to Knives Out)

Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and you had no idea how to handle the fact you were going to handle that family once again.

Ransom had been kind enough to keep you with him the few days leading up to it, just so you had some time to mentally preparing yourself. After the other night when you had began to break out of your shell, Ransom was convinced things were just going better and better for him. But in a sense, they weren’t; why did he like the way you laughed? Why was the way your eyes caught the light mesmerizing to him? Why did he feel like the two of you were back in boarding school?

This is all stupid, Ransom thought to himself. This shit wasn’t what he intended. He was just having a bit of wimpy nostalgia to how it was before, and nothing more than that. He wasn’t fifteen again and thinking you were cute. Ew, none of that. He just wanted something to keep his intrusive thoughts away at night for this holiday.

You found this just as a reblossoming friendship. What you had stumbled upon accidentally led to something that you could stick with. Though things seemed to have just progressed quickly over one night, that didn’t bother you. Ransom seemed to have changed over the years. Sure, he was still cocky, and from what you gathered from Jacob he was still a playboy. But did any of that really necissarily matter? He seemed like he cared and wanted to develop a relationship with you. Why not?

You, unlike him, never had feelings towards him.

“Hey Ransom,” you said as you laid on the couch one afternoon. He glanced over at you from his chair. “Have you ever seen a Disney movie, like, ever in your life?” you asked with a small laugh. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he muttered playfully. “I invite you to my home and you’re gonna make me watch some goddamn baby movie?” He asked. You giggled and sat up to look at him.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No!”

“Ransom how have I never made you watch a movie during our years of friendship?” You inquired curiously. He scoffed with a smile.

“I’m pretty sure one time I let you show me a Disney movie in exchange for me showing you a horror movie,” he recalled. You nodded and breathed a small “ohhh.”

“I think I remember that,” you agreed. He nodded quietly and you looked down at your hands. That was before the two of you began to separate. He had found this movie via his new “friends” and was dying to show it to you.

“Aren’t you afraid of horror movies?” You asked in the darkness of his dorm. He scoffed.

“No, not since Kade and Mason showed it to me,” he said coolly. He played it off like he was the shit, when what he didn’t tell you was really those boys threatened to leave him if he didn’t watch it. You looked at him skeptically as he held “Carrie” in his hands.

“Ransom, I don’t know if this is the best idea...”

“Relax (Y/N),” he quoted Kade but used your name. “Why would I ever do anything to hurt you.”

Your nervous gaze pierced into him. That intimidated him, but he wouldn’t let you know that.

“‘Aladdin’ first, then yours,” you sighed reluctantly. He fist bumped the air and plopped down next to you.

“So...” you began after a moment. Ransom glared over at you with his blue eyes. “You’re saying you’d do it again?” you asked hopefully. He groaned and you cheered. “How does later tonight sound?” You asked as you stood up to stand in front of him.

“Nine sharp, and if you’re a minute late I won’t play the movie,” he ordered. You clapped and danced around, making your way back up to your room.

“Hell yeah!” You wooped as you walked up the stairs. Ransom shook his head but couldn’t help smile.

You’ve almost got her wrapped around your finger, Ransom’s thoughts began. He frowned. What’s going to happen when she leaves, Ransom? You can bet she’ll never want anything to do with you again. FOR REAL this time.

Ransom stood up and shook his head, walking over to the sink to drink some water. He thought about it though, what would happen once you left? After he got you to do what he wanted? What would he be left with after that?

He erased those thoughts from his head and sighed, walking up to his room to take care of a few things.

~•~•~

You called Claire as soon as you got back to your room. You were practically bouncing around as the phone rang.

“Hey girl!” Claire’s voice rang through the phone. You felt happy knowing she was still there to talk even though you two were still so far away.

“Hey Claire! What’s up?” You asked as you slowly walked around your room.

“Oh not much, I ended up at my moms for Thanksgiving,” she muttered in annoyance. You could hear yelling in Spanish in the background as you chuckled. Her mom was strict for sure, but she never failed to crack you up.

“Ohoho, how’s that working out?” You asked. You could picture Claire’s annoyed face and brown eyes filled with reluctance.

“All my brothers are here,” she said shortly. Claire was the middle child of five children. She had two older brothers and two younger brothers. Claire grew up in the Bronx so living in the main parts of NYC didn’t actually put her far away from her mother, but she didn’t like to think about that.

“What? No way!” You exclaimed. “I thought Bobby was staying in Florida this year?” You said.

“Well, he figured since everyone else was showing up that he had an obligation. Plus, Nikky is home from college so Bobby can’t pass up an opportunity to see his favorite brother,” she retorted. You shook your head, appalled.

“Damn,” you sighed. Claire cleared her throat.

“Anyway, how are you and Prince Charming?” She asked. You jumped a little.

“We’re doing really good, actually!” You exclaimed. “We got close again relatively quickly. We’re having a movie night tonight,” you added excitedly.

“Oh my god (Y/N)!” Claire squealed. You nodded quickly and twirled around. “This sounds like something a couple would do. Omg, do you think he’ll kiss you tonight?” She asked. You felt tingly inside as you did a double take.

“What? No! Claire, I’ve only been here two days!” You reasoned.

“But I thought you said things were going well,” Claire replied sadly.

You sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see...” you trailed off. You heard Claire’s mother yell something to her in Spanish.

“¡Aguanta, aguanta! un minuto mamá mi dios!” She shot back. You giggled. “I gotta go, my mom is about to have a meltdown if I don’t help her with cleaning,” she muttered.

“Alright girl, I’ll talk to you later,” you laughed. Claire said bye once more before hanging up the phone. You fell back onto your bed. Were you and Ransom really actually close enough again for him to do something like that? Probably not. Definitely not.

~•~•~•~•~

The moon shined down through the trees and streaks of light covered the floor of the house. The main lights were soon going to be turned off leaving only background lights, the two of you were going to depend on the TV as your main light source.

Ransom walked down from his room that night in his pajamas and scoffed with a grin. You had a huge bowl of popcorn prepared and pillows and blankets (both some of his and yours) set up neatly on the floor.

He glanced at his phone; 8:59PM.

He opened it up to go as far as to get to the exact second.

“Ten,” Ransom began to yell. He heard a yelp and a thud before running of feet. “Nine, eight, seven-”

“I’M COMING!” You yelled. He watched you almost trip down the stairs and breeze past him in pajamas of your own as he continued counting.

“-Four, three, two-“ You dove onto the couch. “One.” You smiled at you tried to catch your breath. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled at you. “Not as punctual as you used to be,” he observed. You shrugged with a smirk.

“Not as stuck up as I used to be,” you replied. He turned off the main lights and walked over and sat down next to you but at a comfortable distance. He didn’t want to get too close, that would be weird.

“So what will you be torturing me with tonight?” He asked as he stared at the TV. You grabbed the remote from in front of you and brought up Netflix. You grinned as you pulled up your feature film for the night. Ransom squinted.

“‘Princess and the Frog!’” You announced happily. He glared at you for a minute as you laughed, pulling your hair back into a ponytail. “C’mon,” you reasoned as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “It’ll be fun.”

“You know you really haven’t changed all that much,” Ransom told you as he took the remote and pressed play. You stuck your tongue out at him before directing your attention to the screen. Ransom briefly noticed how your eyes lit up with excitement before he turned his attention in the direction of yours.

~•~•~•~•~

After giving Ransom a short synopsis, laughing at Charlotte (your favorite character), gushing over how much you loved Naveen, singing along to many songs, and dancing to “Going Down the Bayou,” you were asleep on Ransom’s shoulder by the time Naveen was going to try and propose to Tiana on the steamboat.

Ransom didn’t mind, which surprised himself. He was genuinely caught up and interested in the film now (which he would never admit to you). So sure, maybe Disney can produce a decent movie. Fine. Whatever. Doesn’t mean all their movies are this good.

Ransom watched how nervous and fumbled Naveen was. He smirked, knowing he would do a way better job at proposing if he ever wanted to. But then he frowned, realizing how similar to Naveen he was; reckless, (handsome), a playboy, rich parents... No no, he wasn’t going to compare himself to a stupid cartoon character.

Then his mind wandered to the sleeping girl on his shoulder, and how similar she was to Tiana. She was stubborn, hard-working, kind, noble, and always willing to help out a friend.

Ransom completely zoned out until the movie was over. After he came back, he glanced down at you. Your eyes were still shut and your chest was still slowly raising and lowering with regulated breaths. He sighed; you weren’t going to be moving yourself.

He slowly moved and adjusted to where he could pick you up and carry you bridal-style to your bed. He slowly lifted you up and held you close to him. He made his way slowly to the stairs and looked down at you. He resisted his natural urge to smile and instead kept on track.

When he reached your room he gently set you down on your bed and pulled the blanket up on you. Your sleeping form shifted naturally into a more comfortable position and he grinned, shaking his head. He slowly back away and turned off the lights. The moon shined through the window onto the bed and lit up your form.

Ransom slowly closed the door and sighed, walking over to his room. He couldn’t possibly be going soft for you. He wouldn’t allow it.

~•~•~•~•~

You woke up the next morning a little later than usual. When you found yourself in your bed, you searched your brain for the slightest memory of waking up and moving.

But if you didn’t move yourself, then...

Your insides got all tingly and you threw the blanket over your blushing face. Did Ransom really move you? Oh my god...

You heard your phone ding and grabbed it off the nightstand.

(Y/N), how was movie night?? What happened? I need ALL the details!!

You read Claire’s text and groaned, laying it back down. You didn’t feel quite ready to answer that yet. You thought about how Ransom could have possibly reacted. Was that awkward for him? You probably looked DISGUSTING when you were asleep. You whined and dragged yourself out of bed, deciding that you couldn’t stay in your room forever.

~•~•~

You walked downstairs slowly and saw Ransom sitting on the couch by himself.

You creeped in and cleared your throat quietly. He turned around and glanced at you before turning back to the TV.

“H-Hey,” you said awkwardly as you stood behind the couch. He didn’t reply. You felt choked up until you glanced at the screen he was staring at. “Is that... ‘Tangled’?” You asked.

“Turns put your movie didn’t absolutely suck,” he said with a smirk. You shook your head and walked around to sit with him. You two watched in silence for a moment before Ransom spoke up again. “So did that movie last night really bore you that bad?” He asked sarcastically. You knew what he meant and turned red, laughing slightly to try and cope.

“Oh- haha, I uhm- sorry, I-“ You fumbled. He put his hand on your shoulder and you met his blue gaze.

“You’re fine.” He smiled. Your heart jumped and you nodded slowly.

Goddammit, you thought. he was putting some sort of spell on you. You knew you couldn’t let that happen.

Shit, Ransom thought. You were doing something to him and he didn’t know what. How could he let his plan begin to fail like this?

The two of you could never be more than friends, that would be toxic for the both of you.

look. did this chapter really contribute to anything? maybe. was it fluffy? yes. did this give reader and ransom’s relationship an opportunity to grow? yes. so i guess it did contribute overall. i hope you liked this chapter, the tension is beginning to grow and things are ramping up even more. chapter 7 will be out soon!💛

taglist:

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#ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom thrombey x you #hugh ransom drysdale #knives out #knives out fanfic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction

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kmelanin · 4 years

Text

untitled document-teaser

Hiiiiii!11!!!!!!1 How are you guys.

im currently working on a story, do I know where its going? no is it finished? no

But im really in love with it at the moment, and im sad that I don't post much, so heres a teaser! I don't wanna post a whole part, because I want to get further in it, before I start posting.

teaser 1.

It was soon almost nine at night, which was closing time. You had a half hour to tattoo the last two people. You go to the front desk where Cyn was sitting on her phone. Jazyn went home, complaining that her body was aching from giving so much energy to the whole day.

You look down at the list, seeing the last two names written in english,

‘K. Taehyung’

‘J. Jungkook’

You would be lying if you said seeing their names didn't make your heart race. You looked around and saw no one sitting down in the waiting area. You frown in confusion.

“Outside, they wanted a smoke before sitting down for the tats.” Cyn nods over to the front door. You nod your head and walk over. Opening the door, the little bell above rang, catching their attention. You look over and see the red headed boy blowing smoke out of his mouth, and the other inhaling.

“Cigs are actually disgusting.” You mock them. They both smile at you throwing their cigs down and walking towards you. You shake your head and walk back inside, with them behind.

“You both can come back since you are the last two.” You say quickly giving Cyn a hug. Cyn then starts to shut things down, so she can go home.

You go to your bag and pull out some gum. You pass one to them.

“Your breath smells like hobo ass, aka cigs. Chew.” You give them a sarcastic look of disgust.

“No cigarettes around you, alrighty.” Jungkook grabs the gum, following Taehyung.

“So what would you guys like?” You ask sitting down at your little corner desk. They both sit in the extra chairs that are next to your desk and the tattooing chair.

“Just the number seven, right here.” Jungkook says pulling his collar down on his white t-shirt. He points right above his collar bone on the left.

“And here.” Taehyung says pointing right next to his ear, right where his sideburn would be growing. That's when you notice the slight haircut he got in the time you have been apart. His sides were cut very short, especially where the sideburns grew. It then registered to you, that no matter what these boy do, they will be drop dead fucking gorgeous. Jungkook gave you this soft yet intimidating vibe, it gave you goosebumps just thinking about it. Taehyung, well he gave you straight hard, dominating chills. He can easily change from a baby face, to daddy 2.0.

God bless their parents.

“Yn?” Jungkook asks, waving a hand in your face. You shook out of your thoughts and smiled a bit embarrassed.

“Right, sorry. I'm a bit tired, I've been tattooing since around noon.” You laugh it off, and grab your sketchbook and begin drawing the number seven in a few different ways.

They both grin at each other, both admiring your cuteness.

“Wait, that's almost nine hours, have you eaten?” Taehyung peeps up after a moment.

“Mhm…” You nod, erasing a bit and cleaning up the pictures. After you were done, you showed them and let them choose. They eventually chose the most simple one, making it easier for their other friends to agree and come.

You find out that they are a part of a group of friends, sometimes mistaken for a gang. Yoongi and Namjoon and them, along with three others. They all want a tattoo they all can get, so the younger two getting something small and simple, will hopefully force the others to shut up and just get the tattoo and be done.

While tattooing them both, you realized how fucking nice their hands are. Yes you had a hand thing. No you didn't care what anyone said. But they topped it off forsure, adding tattoos and rings to the equation. You glance down at Jungkook's hand and hold his collar down. Shit.

You suddenly got goosebumps at the thoughts. Thankfully you were grabbing more ink at the time.

You were finishing Jungkook up when a thought popped into his head.

“How old are you?” His voice cuts out the slight silence. Taehyung smacks him on the arm, making Jungkook blush. “You know, for honorifics.” He gets nervous. You just laugh at them.

“24, November.” You wipe the left over ink off of his neck.

“Damn, I'm december, you're barely older than me.” Taehyung laughs.

“Of course, I'm still the youngest.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Haha, well you're all done.” You sit back, a bit upset. You want to continue tattooing.

“Thank you Noona.” He mumbles. You quickly reach up and flick his fresh tat.

“Ah! What the.” He grabs his neck a bit and looks at you.

“Absolutely not.” You cross your arms and frown, showing him that you were serious. His eyes widened and bit.

“Fine.”

TEASER 2. hehe

“I'm hungry as shit. I'm going to get food.” Joon says packing up his bag. He nods towards you and Jungkook, then leaves out of the door. When the door shuts, you turn your attention back to Jungkook. He looks back at you, and he quickly bows a bit.

“I guess I should get going too.” You could tell he was feeling awkward. He spun on his heel and headed to your door.

“You don't have to, I have nothing to do all weekend.” You shrug, stopping him in his tracks. He looks back at you with wide eyes.

“You want to hang out?” He questions you.

“If you want to.” You shrug. You look at him up and down. You loved how different his style is compared to Joon. Jungkook had on black joggers, with a chain in the belt loop. Then a black oversized t-shirt. Tattoos peek out from his shirt, you notice that there's tattoos all over his collarbones. Tattoos run down his arms. Everything about him, gives you hot bad boy vibes. But his face, his personality- based on how long you've known him- , was so soft.

Maybe he is a bad boy, maybe they all are. And you were dancing on thin ice.

Of course he wants too, Jungkook thinks. He didn't understand why your presence makes him so nervous.

“I'll text Namjoon, and we can go to the skate park.” He nods, pulling his phone out.

Before he met you, he could walk up to any girl, look at any girl, get any girl. Now he's rethinking everything. He can't look you in the eyes without wanting to jump on you. He can't get the images of you and Taehyung heavily making out with him in the club. He lost count on how many times he jerked off to the image of you and his friend, let alone the remembrance of the feeling of your ass grinding and rolling against him.

Everytime you talk to him, his heart beats entirely way too fast. It makes him stumble and mumble. Even the guys would tease him until cheeks turned red.

Just the other night, Taehyung caught Jungkook in the hallway one night. Everyone else was either gone, or sleeping.

“Going to the shower to paint the walls again?” Taehyung laughs a bit, shoving Jungkook's shoulder softly. Jungkook smiled a bit at the joke, and shook his head.

“That joke is so old, Hyung.”

“You know what won't get old?” Taehyung asks him, walking closer.

“Mhm?” Jungkook asks, nothing thinking anything of his advances.

“Her delicious ass lips on mine.” Taehyung's hand comes up and grabs Jungkook by the neck, pinning him to the wall. Jungkook didn't realize that he was backing into the wall.

Taehyung wasn't being too rough, he knew what Jungkook liked. Taehyung pressed his body against his, replacing his hand with his face. He runs his nose gently up his neck and up, grazing his lips against his. Jungkook moans out at the teasing, wanting some type of relief.

“Just imagine Kookie, all of the kisses,” Taehyung places a tiny kiss on his lips, causing Jungkook to chase him a bit, but Taehyung's hand stops him. “The scratches she can give you,” His other hands grazed down Jungkook's arm. “The hickies.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook's growing bulge, knowing how to make the younger one break.

As expected, a huge moan rips through the younger one. Taehyung suddenly being overthrown and being pushed into the other wall. The smile on Taehyung's face was covered by Jungkokos lips. Taehyung doesn't waste any time and kisses him back.

This happens all the time. Between all of them, and all remain really good friends.

Both smacking lips, and moans against each other, with the thought of you in their mind.

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mystic-one-shots · 7 years

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Hiiiiii! Could I request a one-shot based of a picture? I'm not sure if you've seen it, but it's one where there's a chibi-ish, nervous Seven holding a clipboard which says 'your very personal info' on it, except the "very" has been crossed out. I'd be super happy if you could write it, like I'm thinking some angst and cuteness? I dunno, anything you write is fine but THANK YOU IN ADVANCE!

You’re *very* Personal Info [707]

You startled a very concentrated Seven from his work by jumping onto his back and squeezing him tightly.

“Gah! MC, what are you doing? I’m working right now!”

Seven’s hands flew up in exasperation before he shielded whatever he had been doing with other windows and tabs.

“You didn’t come to bed last night; you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep since yesterday after Vanderwood called you.” You said with a pout, but soon growing serious and adopting a strict motherly tone.

“Honey Buddha Chips and Ph D. Pepper is all I need to stay awake.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around him once more and giving him another tight squeeze as you nuzzled your head against his back.

“MC…” Seven sighed softly, resting his arms atop of yours, which were still ringed securely around his torso.

“I waited a long time last night… And you won’t even tell me what you’re doing.”

Seven sighed once more; he felt pretty bad now.

“I’m sorry, MC. I was… I was just trying to get YVPI. That’s all. It’s very important and I had to get everything as soon as I could. I’m sorry I didn’t come sleep with you last night.”

Seven pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes.

“I should’ve at least said goodnight. I’m sorry.”

You loosened your grip and leaned to the side, meeting the tired redhead’s golden eyes from below. You instantly forgave him. You knew Seven could get really busy at times, but you worried about him, especially his health.

“It’s okay.” You assured, making him smile in relief. “What’s YVPI stand for?”

Seven tensed but quickly attempted to cover it up with a laugh.

“Nothing, nothing. Just some top secret information. I can’t tell you.”

You gave him a sad look. One you knew had the capability of breaking him.

“You don’t trust me…?”

Seven became agitated and waved his hands side to side repeatedly.

“No, no, no! It’s not like that!”

He continued to avoid answering your question, but your expression just kept growing sadder and sadder, to the point he actually thought you were going to cry.

“It’s… YVPI stands for ’Your Personal Info’.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your Personal Info…? What’s the ‘V’ stand for?”

Seven’s smile grew very nervous, and there was hesitation in his reply.

“Your… Very Personal Info…?”

It took you five whole seconds to fully grasp it all. Then you gasped.

“Saeyoung, how could you!?”

Seven cowered under your raised voice and covered his head with his hands, rambling out apologies one after another.

“Jesus, Saeyoung! That’s what you’ve been doing this whole time? Looking up my very personal information!? Saeyoung, you can ask me about myself! I’m right here! I live with you and instead of getting to know me better yourself you ignore me and try getting a bunch of documents about my life!?”

Your anger and disappointment continued to pour out in the form of accusations and flying fists. Your heart ached in an odd way. It almost felt as if he’d betrayed you, although that would be a slight exaggeration.

When you could no longer express your sadness, your fists were left shaking in the air before dropping down to your sides and clutching the hem of your shirt. Your eyes watered, not really because of this incident, but from all the other times in which you worried over Seven and days he was very withdrawn. It had all piled up after not letting it out for so long, and now you struggled yet succeeded in keeping the tears from leaving your eyes.

When you stopped talking and had lowered your head, Seven finally removed his arms and looked at you.

His heart broke. He swore he heard it crack in his chest.

He felt horrid. He felt regret. He felt so bad for making you feel this way. He hated to be the source of your pain. He wished to be the one to give you joy and happiness. To wipe your tears away, not be the one to cause them. To hold you and assure you that everything would be alright. But how could he do that when he was the problem?

He called your name softly. Once, twice, then, “I’m sorry…”

He wrapped his arms around you. Tentatively. Uncertainly. When you didn’t react, he hugged you completely and rested his head atop yours. He stroked your hair, breathed in your scent, felt such sadness as you trembled lightly against his chest.

It made him feel worse to see that you did not pull away from the person who was clearly the cause of your pain.

“Saeyoung…”

He shushed you quietly and gently to make sure he spoke first.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, voice quiet and hopeful. Hopeful that you would understand. “Vanderwood called yesterday…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Saying he was ordered to take over my work, so I spent my free time gathering info about you. I’m so, so, so sorry. I… I want to know everything about you. You know why, right?”

Of course you knew why.

Because he loved you.

The several seconds in which no reply was made stretched on forever, threatening to choke the young genius.

You nodded. Grasped his shoulders and berried your head in his chest.

“You’re right, MC. I’m really, really sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. I should get to know you myself. The right way, by talking and spending time with you. God… This was so stupid, I’m so sorry.”

Seven nuzzled his head even further in the back of your head, holding you tightly and close to his body. You grasped the material of his shirt at his shoulders and made sure you were as close to him as possible.

“I’ll delete the documents now.”

He pulled away, but not before cupping your face, wiping a stray tear from your cheek, and planting a kiss on your forehead.

He took a deep breath once in front of the screen.

“Here goes over 800 GB of information…” He sighed, hesitating before finally pressing down two keys. You saw all the data erased from the screen.

Seven closed his laptop and returned to you, kissing your forehead, both of your cheeks, and finally your nose before hovering a centimetre away from your reddened lips, waiting for your approval.

You leaned in and closed the gap between your mouths.

Seven’s right hand slid up your back and pulled you close, the other wrapped around your waist.

He kissed your mouth three times with sincere love and apology before speaking.

“I won’t ever do that again. I really regret doing it… Please forgive me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, blinking the moisture from your eyes as he kissed the tears from your lashes.

“I love you so much.” His voice soft as silk, he lifted your chin and guided your lips to his. He made sure you knew how apologetic he was.

“Saeyoung… I’m sorry.”

The redhead was taken aback.

“What?” He asked, confused. “What are you apologising for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You shook your head.

“I understand you have a lot of work and the information you handle is very sensitive. What you do is confidential and I understand that. I’m sorry if I make you feel guilty for not spending time with me. I love you so much, but I see you work hours on end and not sleeping at all. I just… I want to help you but I don’t know how.”

Seven’s grip tightened around your waist. He said your name sternly and made sure you looked him in the eyes, all seriousness.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. I can’t believe… I can’t believe you would even blame yourself for the way I act. I didn’t know I made you feel this way… Jesus… I’m so sorry. I’ve…”

Seven’s eyes moistened as he pursed his lips. The blame he put on himself was very apparent. He was beating himself up for it.

“I’m going to make it up to you. For all those times I kind of ignored you when I had a lot of work, when I didn’t come to bed, when I would brush off your advice to rest and take care of myself.

“This job… It takes a lot of my time. It keeps me away from you. I felt like I had to know everything about you. I still think that way, but I wasn’t thinking straight. This wasn’t the right way do it. I’m going to make it up to you. Please, just forgive me. Forgive me for being so selfish and blind. Please give me another chance.”

A tear slid down the apologetic hacker’s cheek, and you made sure to kiss the droplet from his skin, stroking his cheekbone gently with your thumb.

“I didn’t want to make you feel bad. You shouldn’t, because this is your job and it’s very important work. You should feel bad about getting my information… But, I understand. I know you’re always doing your best.

“I worry for you because I love you.”

Seven’s eyes flooded with teary emotions. He cupped your face and placed his mouth over yours, salty tears shed by both of you wetting your lips.

“There are a lot of times I think you’re going to leave me since I’m not good enough.” He confessed, voice muffled against your hair. “It kills me just thinking about you not by my side. I never want to let you go. But you I’m not giving you all that you deserve.”

Seven kissed you two more times, gently and lovingly, before murmuring four words.

“I love you so much…”

You hummed against his lips, deepening the kiss as you slid your hands through his fiery red hair.

“I could never leave you, Saeyoung. Never. I love you more than anything and anyone. I can’t bear the thought of not being with you. Please don’t think I’d leave you. I never will, I promise. It’s impossible to leave someone so precious to me. Put that thought of your hand this instant. I will always love you, and I will always be with you, no matter what.”

A shaky sigh of relief escaped Seven’s lips. Hearing you say that took such a huge weight off his chest, making his heart flutter uncontrollably as tears sprung into his eyes.

He squeezed your shoulder and a wobbly smile formed on his mouth. Without releasing your hands, he clicked a button on his keyboard; all the monitor screens went black save for two, which seemed to be security footage.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You gave him confused look.

“But it’s still so early…”

“I know,” he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I just want to lay in bed with you. We’re not gonna sleep.”

You smiled softly, allowing him to lead you to the bedroom. The two of you crawled under the sheets and lay on your sides facing one another, fingers laced.

A few moments of easy, peaceful silence passed.

“You didn’t delete those documents, did you?”

Seven’s eyes widened, mouth falling open yet no words coming out.

You chuckled lightly, shifting forward to kiss his forehead.

“It’s okay. Just don’t look at them. And if I choose not to tell you something… Don’t go looking for answers that way.”

“I won’t, I swear to God that I won’t.” Seven promised with utmost sincerity.

You smiled. You trusted him completely.

“You now what they say; secrets are more attractive when kept secret.”

Seven chuckled, kissing your nose.

“And what they say is very true. God, you’re so perfect. Too perfect for someone like me.” He sighed, caressing your cheek with his thumb adoration crystal clear in those enchanting orbs. His golden eyes were unbelievably soft and brimming with love for you.

“Says the most perfect man in the world.”

You both laughed and shared one last kiss.

Soon enough, Seven had fallen asleep from exhaustion, curled against your chest with your head above his. One of your hands was in his hair, the other around his waist while Seven had an arm wrapped around your torso, the other kept between the two of you, palm laid flat above your heart, its rhythmic beating lulling him to a sound sleep.

You planted a gentle kiss atop his head before closing your eyes, drifting off to sleep where you met Seven waiting for you in your dreams.

#Mystic Messsenger #Mysmes #MM #Saeyoung Choi #Saeyoung #707 #Hacker #Luciel Choi #Luciel #Seven #God Seven #Your VERY Personal Info #707 One-Shot #RFA #Otome #Mystic Messenger One-Shots

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