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k3rm1e · 3 years

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cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

#mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #karl jacobs x reader #nihachu x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #tommyinnit x reader #badboyhalo x reader #skeppy x reader #eret x reader #philza x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #kermie's headcanons #kermie spent so long on this and is dying

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mangolover · 3 years

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Anything for You (Asmodeus x Reader)

Title: Anything for You

Prompt: “I know you’re cold but that blanket is gross now, you need a clean one.”

Fandom: Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All / Obey Me!

Pairing: Asmodeus x gn! reader

Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Sickfic

Warnings: description of sickness/illness, vomit, throwing up, mentions of nudity (taking of your clothes), skipping one meal

Spoilers: None I believe

Word Count: 1300+

Description: You got sick. Now Asmo wants to make sure you are feeling better and he's ready to go out of any comfort zone of his just for you.

I woke up and saw that today's my fav demons birthday!

I simp for this demon and love him in all the posibble ways

Asmo, give me a bit of your confidence, I beg you TwT

You had a feeling you were coming down with something, but you hoped your immune system would fight it off without chaining you to bed with a fever, awful headache, feeling like you’ll throw up at any second and general weakness. But here you were, groaning as you rolled around in the bed when Lucifer went to get you up because you will be late for school.

But as soon as he opened the door after you only let out yet another almost inhuman sound as the answer to his knocking, he let out a sigh and called out to you in a softer voice now.

“Y/n, you are free of the school for today. Do you want me to bring you a breakfast to your room?”

You wanted to answer, but there was scratching in your throat and as you finally lifted your heavy head off the pillow, your nose started running. “No need, I’ll just sleep this off.”

“Alright, I’ll get you some medicine and anything you might need. Rest for today and use our pact to call me if you need anything.”

You let out an affirmative hum before you started coughing, feeling like you’ll cough up your soul. Lucifer waited for your coughing fit to end before confirming you are alright and going back downstairs to his waiting brothers.

You stayed in your bed and opened your eyes to stare at the ceiling. Why did you have to get sick now? You had plans this week to hang out with Asmo.

Eventually you feel asleep, kinda glad that you didn’t have to go to school today. But still, the price you had to pay was not worth it. Your rest was interrupted by constant coughing and sneezing and your dreams were affected by the fever, making the weird.

You have no idea how long you were out for, but you awoke to a commotion outside your door. Hushed but stern voices, arguing.

“I am their first! I should be the first one to see my human!”

“They are not yours Mammon, I am their boyfriend!”

“Y/n needs some cuddles and I am the best one for that here.”

“I’m sure they are hungry.”

“Does any of you even know how to help a sick human? Of course, you don’t, you never cared to research, did you?”

“Henry needs his best friend the cheer them up!”

And the commotion continued. The brothers were all your good friends and they all wanted to make sure you’re okay which left you with a warm feeling in your chest. But your boyfriend Asmo was there, even if he couldn’t phantom getting sick and looking like crap, he was still fighting to be the first one to see you and take care of you.

You opened your eyes and looked to your nightstand where you saw a tray with a still warm soup, tea, and medicine alongside a note with Lucifer’s handwriting.

“When you wake up, make sure to take your medicine with the tea. And eat some soup, both of it was made with human world ingredients and they should be your favorite. Feel free to tell my brothers to get lost if they are bothering you.

Get well soon :)

-Lucifer”

You chuckled when you saw the smiley face he put on the letter. You are sure if anyone saw that he would be furious due to his pride being hurt, but he always had a soft spot for you, just like Mammon.

You decided to have mercy on the eldest born and put away the note where no one could see it, just to spare him the embarrassment. You looked up confusedly at your door when you haven’t heard any sound or voices for a few minutes.

Should you get up and open it to see?

But as you slowly peeled the blanket off your sweaty body, a wave of sickness crashed into you and you couldn’t hold it back. You threw up on the floor, just as doors burst open with Asmodeus’ in the frame. The tray filled with different beauty products was quickly put on the wardrobe next to your door as he gazed at you with worried eyes.

“Oh darling! Are you alright?” he rushed to you and out of pure love for you, ignored the vomit.

“Yeah, sorry, let me clean this up-“

“Absolutely not!” In the rush to go make sure you’re alright, he forgot the close the door and so the others peeked when they heard the slightest hint of worry paint Asmo’s voice.

“Go and take a bath Y/n, I’ll clean this up.” He practically pushed you into the bathroom and helped take of your clothes. He even restrained from touching you, this was not the right time for that, first you need to get better.

After making sure you’re settled, he went and cleaned up the accidental mess to the surprise of his brothers. Asmo would never do such thing, but as long as it involved you, he would even give up his beauty routine and break all the mirrors in his room. As long as you were okay, he put himself aside. He was trying for you, trying to feel and show love and not only lust that his sin controlled.

When you were done with your bath, you dressed yourself and started making your way back to bed, still feeling sick and still with a heavy head.

“What are you doing?!” Asmo let out a high-pitched sound, horror painting his features. Your room now had a flowery smell and there was no trace of what happened.

However, you only flopped on bed and began to pull the blanket closer to your form, shivering from the coldness you suddenly felt, your fever and warm water you left mere minutes ago messing with your body temperature.

“Love,” Asmo leaned over to you with a soft smile and closed his captivating eyes. “I know you’re cold but that blanket is gross now, you need a clean one.”

You only let out a groan as your lover snatched the blanket off your shivering body. “Asmoo!” you were feeling miserable and his almost germophobic way of acting really wasn’t helping.

“I have a better idea Y/n~” he gave you a cheeky smile as he tossed the blanket aside, “you can rest in my room and then I can take care of you!” There was a special spark in his eyes as he said that and his tone was genuinely happy and sweet.

“That sounds like a good idea, thank you Asmo” you murmured in his chest as he picked you up bridal style. This was his display of strength not many get to see and you were grateful you two felt so comfortable with each other.

Once he settled in bed next to you and cuddled you under warm and soft blanket, you felt a bit better and could feel peaceful rest coming your way.

“Hey Asmo?” you called softly.

“Yes dear?” Asmo, asked and looked down at you, ready to go get whatever you might need.

“Once I get better, we are gonna celebrate your birthday like no other.” Asmo looked at you in bewilderment. You seriously remembered his birthday even if you are sick? This made his heart flutter and he gave you the softest look, a warm loving smile on his lips when you lifted your head to glance at him. “Happy birthday, I love you.”

Asmo kissed the top of your head. “I love you too Y/n, sweet dreams.” And with that you finally let darkness wash over you as Asmo started at his ceiling. He was the happiest demon alive, having found love that he cherished more than himself.

Asmo wanted to be the best boyfriend he could to you and he was ready to go out of any comfort zone for you, knowing that you will be there for him every step of the way.

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lightneverfades · 3 years

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That Damned Gazebo

Frostiron Holiday Wishes Challenge ❆ 🎅🎄 Prompt by @snarkyship Fic written by @worstloki Note: AH! So sorry this is a late post, tumblr messed up and I didn’t receive this on Xmas day! Ah! Thank you @worstloki for resending! TwT <3333

Wish (Prompt/Idea): Human/no powers AU. Sort-of-enemies to friends to lovers.Tony rents this house/bungalow by the sea for the summer, with a kind of private beach where there is also a cute gazebo. Only that the gazebo is exactly halfway with the other property (by some mistake?). And the tenant of the neighbour bungalow is Loki, who's not so keen on sharing. So Loki&Tony will start a "war" to gain possession of the gazebo, doing their worst using the excuse of "this is my half, I can use it as I want". ((Optional: there is a table right in the middle, so at the beginning they sit at their own side glaring at each other, before starting deploying more convoluted tactics)).Mischief after mischief, they will start to know each other and of course everything will end with one of them inviting the other to their half for a romantic dinner and they'll end up sharing more than the gazebo <3((I hope it's enough clear and but also not too detailed??))

Stupid cute bungalow. Stupid cute gazebo. Stupid cute neighbour.

All Tony wanted was a vacation; a break from running a business and having to argue for his ideas to get accepted by the marketing teams and just some time to lay low and relax.

All Loki wanted was a break from being upstaged in his section of the family business by his brother; some time off to cool down and de-stress and lay low and relax.

But instead only half their regular favourite beach house was available no matter how much cash they offered to throw at the real estate company renting it out. Could they have picked a different place to stay? Maybe. But none of the other decent rentables this far west have a gazebo, and they would have nowhere to sit alone and admire the waves from afar if they took a place without one.

And, of course, that’s where it all started— that gazebo.

That damned gazebo.

———

Day 1

Tony Stark, genius, entrepreneur, philanthropist, makes his way unsteadily down the sandy-grassy slope from the bungalow to the beach, arms filled with an excessive amount of floating supplies, a personalized towel, sunglasses only half on, a fun-sized bottle of the finest sun lotion, a laptop because he may leave the stock market but the stock market may not leave him, a black Prada shirt over khaki Hawaiian shorts, a speaker for music, hot-rod red flip flops, a bag of snacks, a thin multipurpose blanket, and a polaroid.

He almost slips a few times on his way down, and he thinks he sees a crab and swears, but he does make it down to the brilliant white-sand beach of Malibu unharmed.

His plan is simple: spend the day in the shade of the wooden gazebo, sneak a peek at how his business is holding up, check his emails, play some Tetris, sunbathe around noon when the sun is highest, back under the shelter till the sun starts going down, into the water for some splashing, drying off as the sun sets, listen to some tunes while laying under the stars for a while.

Just a regular day off at his favourite beach.

He walks to the shaded gazebo area and draws the curtain to enter, and dumps the entire contents within his arms over the table in the center. He turns to open up the curtains on all sides but is interrupted by an ahem.

Tony turns, and, in the curtained darkness, makes out the figure of a person.

He must be the one who booked out the other half of the house, Tony thinks, eying the stranger sitting at the opposite end of the table with only a book and bottle of water. Show-off minimalists, Tony thinks, saltily.

“I would prefer if you didn’t open those,” he says, and Tony doesn’t recognize the accent, but there definitely is one. Maybe it’s a blend?

“But what’s the point of sitting under a gazebo on a beach if you can’t see the view?” Tony asks, pulling one open, letting in some light.

The man practically hisses at Tony for doing it, which, okay, weird, but that’s normal when you’re assaulted with bright light and have been sitting in the dark.

“How were you reading in the dark anyway? Don’t you know it’s bad for your eyes?”

“I assure you I was able to read just fine.”

“Yeah… I’m opening the rest of these too…” Tony says, reaching for the curtain by the other side.

“Not if you wish to share this table, you won’t,” the man threatens.

“Are you… trying to bribe me?” Tony asks, shocked, because who does this guy think he is?

“Compromise with,” the man has the gall to say. “And with table space, yes,” and Tony sputters. What can he even say to this. He’s here for a vacation, not to argue with strangers who are taking up half the gazebo space that should be his!

“Half,” Tony suggests, because he will not sit in the dark all day and miss out on his beach-view just so he gets to use the table. “You get half of this space, and I get the other half, and we can do whatever we want on our sides.”

The man sighs. “Fine. That sounds fair.”

The two of them spend the entire rest of the day sitting at opposite sides of the table pretending they’re not intentionally glaring and making crazy faces and trying to telepathically get rid of the other when they’re not looking.

Tony doesn’t comment on how the man barely gets any reading done and the man in turn doesn’t comment on how much equipment Tony brought down that he doesn’t use at any point in favour of using the laptop to retain his spot under the gazebo.

Schedule be damned, Tony is going to enjoy his vacation, and that means enjoying his duplex bungalow, even if someone else is renting half, and enjoying his gazebo that may be in-between the properties and they both may be paying for but is 100% actually his.

They wait each other out, and both head up to their houses at the same time; around midnight.

———

Day 2

Loki wakes at his usual time, showers, pointedly gets dressed into anything but the black shirt he has that matches what the man had on yesterday, and grabs his book before he heads down to the beach.

Having to share the same table was, simply put, incredibly awkward, but Loki has faith in it not happening again. He’s just going to make his way down to the gazebo and spend the day relaxing and rereading his favourite series without a pretentious-bearded neighbour showing up and making things weird.

“YOU!” Loki hears, and turns to find the same man from yesterday rushing down the slope towards him, “WHY ARE YOU UP AT THIS TIME?!”

Loki takes in the sight of the man dressed in a half-buttoned-up hawaiian shirt and pajama pants, with only a laptop and towel in hand, hair clearly fresh from bed, and, before he thinks better of it, counters eloquently with, “why are you half dressed?”

The man waves his arms in frustration, “I was tired! And in a rush! You don’t get to judge me, you’re the other f*ck who woke up this early!”

“I… normally get up this early…” Loki informs him, backing away slowly.

He can’t believe he’s going to have to deal with this guy again.

At least his sweatshirt has a green hood so he can block the guy out of his sight, right? He won’t spend the entire day rereading paragraphs because the man at the other end of the table is making him feel anxious, right? Surely the man is bringing the towel to lay in the sand which means he won’t be needing the gazebo, right?

Loki literally booked this bungalow because it’s in Malibu, and no one pays for a place like this in Malibu when you can rent a lower quality place and spend the money on beach parties and drinks. The fact that it’s far enough from home to make him feel safer was a bonus, but he really just wanted to be alone for a few days.

Loki takes a seat, and crosses one leg over the other, getting comfy so he can lean the book on the table. He tries not to get annoyed that the curtains are still parted halfway. He wouldn’t mind if the ones on his side were open too, but at this point he’s not acquiescing a point to the stranger.

The man pulls the wooden chair out and sits down opposite him.

Of course he does.

Why wouldn’t he.

“So you’re really going to keep reading in the dark?” he says, flipping open his laptop.

“Yep, and that suits me just fine, thank you,” Loki answers neutrally.

“Does my no-light-reading-neighbour have a name?”

“Do you?”

“Tony.”

“Loki.”

“Nice to meet you, Loki,”

“Thank you.”

Loki uses his bookmark to flip to his page, and starts reading. He will not get distracted by this Tony. It’s totally normal to share this table. It’s not huge, but it’s built for at least six, so there’s space. Maybe not enough to lay on, but it’s enough distance to ignore the clicking of Tony’s keyboard as he frantically presses keys.

Loki is two hours into enjoying his reading time, and he thinks he was doing well.

He’d smiled every time Tony yawned because with eye-rubbing and deep sighs that man was not used to getting up early, but he’d actually gotten through nearly three chapters without incident.

Then, the infuriating man had plunked a speaker onto the table and started playing AC/DC.

Now he’s reread this one line at least fourteen times and still doesn’t know what the red-head was doing with Jon.

“Why?” Loki asks, “Why must you do this? You can see me reading, you’re blocking out the distant sound of waves hitting the shore, it’s not even at a decent volume, so, why?!”

“Sorry, what was that?” Tony answers, “Did you say something? Because I couldn’t hear you over the music, but it sounded like you had an issue with what I was doing on my side.”

“Your music is not staying on your side!” Loki argues, but only receives a shrug and an increase in volume.

He presses his lips together.

Fine. If you’re going to be petty about this, then I can too.

Under the table, Loki kicks Tony.

He hasn’t got shoes on, but he’s always had a knack for aiming very well, and Tony’s whimper (?) (it’s hard to tell with the music so loud) assures him he hit the shin bone well enough.

By the time Tony is done cradling his leg and looks up at Loki with a mix of anger/betrayal, Loki is already reading again, the perfect image of serenity.

Loki tries not to laugh as Tony discovers his legs are not long enough to kick back.

———

Day 3

Tony didn’t bother trying to wake up before Loki this time.

He went at his own pace, and remembered to change out of the pajamas, brushed his hair, had coffee, and took the time to make himself a few sandwiches to enjoy through the day.

Yesterday he even went for a quick swim around ten at night and headed straight back up to his side of the bungalow, because he’s a responsible adult who doesn’t need to out-do a stranger’s sleep-schedule. Or leg-length. Or laugh.

It isn’t a competition or anything.

By the time he makes it down to the beach, he finds Loki sitting under the gazebo, alone, with all the curtains tied open.

He’s also... wearing a black Prada shirt which matches the one Tony threw on this morning?? What?! Taking up half the space on his side of the table with 1 (one) bottle of water wasn’t enough, he also has to taunt him by wearing the exact same thing?!

He storms to his side of the gazebo and slams his palms down, taking satisfaction in the fact that Loki was startled and drops his book onto the table. Tony hopes he’s lost the page he was on.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Hello, neighbour,” Loki greets, gingerly picking up his book again and giving a hesitant smile. “I didn’t realise you would be wearing the same shirt again, but I was hoping we could get off on a different foot today?”

Huh, well, would ya look at that, Tony thinks, I actually won. The sucker is gonna admit I’m too much and wave the white flag.

“That... actually sounds great,” Tony answers with his award-winning client-smile, sitting down opposite him. “This whole thing with splitting the table and curtains in half was a bit ridiculou—”

Tony yelps and stands up and starts frantically rubbing his hand over his butt which is stinging— he looks down at his seat and sees the culprit —a crab, menacing in all it’s crabby glory.

“Are you... okay?” Loki asks, far too confused, far too innocently, far too worried for it to be genuine, “what’s wrong?”

Tony, outraged, yells at Loki, “DID YOU FRICKIN PUT A CRAB IN MY SEAT?!”

“I— what?”

“WHO THE F*CK CALLS A PARLEY AND CRABS SOMEONE?!”

“No! I didn’t— are you okay??” Loki says, and he’s gotten up and rushing over and...okay, MAYBE he didn’t mastermind the crab.

“NO, I AM NOT, BUT THANK YOU FOR ASKING,” Tony screams, backing away from Loki, and running towards his bungalow.

Running in sand is hard, but Tony discovers it’s much harder when your butt is stinging.

———

Loki… did not put a crab on Tony’s seat.

He’d honestly wanted to draw up a truce, maybe have an actual conversation with Tony, and he even brought a towel and wore a change of clothes underneath in the event that the man wanted to go for a swim and wouldn’t mind if Loki joined.

He’d even brought snacks to share.

But now he feels bad.

Had kicking him under the table every time Tony had put the volume too loud or managed to slide low enough to kick him back or played We're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard been bad? Had it been too much? Why else would Tony assume he’d actually try and hurt him?

The glare-offs had just been fun, faces when they thought the other couldn’t see wasn’t bad-intentioned, the kicking hadn’t meant to injure. Loki had thought they were getting along. Perhaps he had misunderstood? Perhaps the other had not felt they were fun little pranks?

He owes Tony an apology.

———

Tony has been icing his butt for an hour. If he had any duct tape, he would’ve duct taped the peas to his butt.

Tony is thinking about how if he had any duct tape he would’ve duct taped the peas to his butt by now when someone bangs at his door.

Gee, I wonder who it could be, Tony thinks, as he goes to answer the door. Just so many people who visit this private beach residence. In all honesty it’s kind of sweet that Loki would turn up to check on him at all really.

Tony leaves the pea packet on the nearest counter and goes to answer the door. Good thing about this bungalow: it has many spare counters for things like dumping peas. An excessive amount of counters, even, and he questions what the designer had been thinking.

Tony swings the door open, “Hey there, crab-man.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki blurts.

“Hey, it’s okay, it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore, but at least you’re owning to it.”

“I didn’t set that up! I wouldn’t actually try to cause any lasting damage,” Loki explains.

Tony sighs.

“Yeah, I figured, I was just caught up in the moment and shouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Would’ve been a very Shakespearean betrayal too…” Loki muses.

“So… anything else you came to say?” Tony asks. Although he’s not sure why.

“Would you be feeling up to sharing the table like normal people?”

“Oh, come on, where would be the fun in that?” Tony jokes.

“You… weren’t hurt or offended when I kicked you or said your music taste is dumb?”

“Course not. We’ve all had wild college nights out, believe me, kick to the shins was nothing.”

“Crab grabs though…”

“If you want to share the table like normal people we will not be mentioning the crab grab.”

“Deal,” Loki says, and he’s beaming as if he’s won a prize. Which is really cute. Which is why Tony doesn’t regret slamming the door in his face.

Stupid cute neighbour.

He needs to change anyway.

———

Loki and Tony hang out under the gazebo, and they share the table.

Every so often Loki will read a line or two aloud and Tony will find himself snickering in response to Loki’s comments on the lines if not the lines themselves. Every now and then Tony tells Loki to look over at his screen as he invests in either the stock market or a round of Tetris.

Around noon Tony asks if Loki would like to sunbathe with him and Loki sees no reason not to join in. He doesn’t have any sunscreen of his own but Tony has plenty and is happy to share.

They talk about their work, and what they’re avoiding (family) in their little getaways from home, just things about life generally.

The sun is going to set soon when Loki asks if Tony would like to spend some time by the water with him.

The two of them spend a good thirty minutes hitting each other with floaties when they aren't sitting around in them, and, despite wading in till their knees, and flinging water at each other, they manage not to get too wet.

They sit in the sand watching the sun set in beautiful streaks of purples and orange as they dry off their feet.

Loki brought two towels in case of such a scenario (which Tony finds very endearing and sweet) and they lay on them as they watch the sky darken to reveal the stars. Loki tries to point out some constellations but Tony is convinced he’s making them up. Maybe he is.

The two of them share sandwiches and chips and chocolates and decide to head up early at around nine.

Tony invites Loki over for a movie, and how can Loki say no? He only just met him, but he’d rather be stuck sharing this bungalow and beach and gazebo with him than have to return home in a few days.

The house is huge, and there is plenty of room on the couch for them to be spaced out, but they choose to share a blanket and stay close because they want to.

Loki hadn’t planned on sleeping over, but he stays late and falls asleep in the middle of a movie and Tony doesn’t mind at all. It’s hard for him to mind when he’s also fallen asleep.

———

Day 4

Tony wakes early.

Not Loki-early, but earlier than usual, because he’s looking forward to spending time with Loki.

Hmm. Maybe it is technicallyyy still Loki-early. Whatever.

Except, Tony wakes up alone and walks down the slope to the gazebo, and finds it empty. A quick scan of the beach also yields no results. Which is concerning, but not overly so. Maybe he just has something else to do today?

Tony gets through a few hours by rotating through Tetris, League of Legends, and Galaga, before he gives in and walks up to Loki’s half of the duplex bungalow.

He bangs his fist on the door and waits.

About a minute later, Loki answers, in green-plaid pants and a vintagey AC/DC band shirt, hair looking only half brushed.

“Are you seriously wearing that kind of shirt as pajamas?”

“Yes. And good... morning?”

“Morning!” Tony cheerily greets in return, before his expression gets less so, “why aren’t you out today?”

“Good afternoon? I... just wasn’t feeling too well, a bad day I guess,” Loki explains, which Tony understands. “And I already over-lived my stay with you yesterday, so I thought you could have the gazebo all to yourself today, since I’m not really in a beach mood anyway.”

And that’s a big no in Tony’s book because no he didn’t go too far or over-stay anything and no he doesn’t owe him anything and no in general because Tony liked spending time with him! He’s fun and caring and Tony’s wondering where this guy was for every other vacation he spent here because Tony considers him a friend!

“That’s sweet,” Tony lies, “I’m not really in a beach mood either.”

“Ah. Would you… like to come in?” Loki asks, hesitant.

“Of course buddy, if my friend wants to stay home I’m sticking with him.”

Loki stands aside, letting Tony into the bungalow that he’s used to owning on his own, but, shockingly enough, doesn’t mind sharing anymore.

“Would it be bad to ask what kind of bad mood?” Tony questions, taking a seat by the TV. It’s off and he doesn’t see a remote.

“A bit, yes, but I value the thought,” Loki answers, checking the kitchen cupboards.

“So what were you doing in here all alone without me, beach buddy?”

“Reading.”

Hmm. Tony considers. They did do what he had wanted yesterday.

“Can I join?” Tony inquires, “if you have any spare books, that is.”

“I didn’t know you could read.” Loki says with half-hearted disgust, walking behind the couch to a small bookshelf.

“Harry Potter, you got me,” Tony states in the driest tone, “Ha ha.”

“I’ve got the second Game of Thrones—“

“There’s a book?!”

“And the series hasn’t updated in years.”

“Bummer, hate when they do that, but at least the show ended?”

“Yeah, badly,” Loki points out. “I’ve got the Lord of the Rings trilogy.”

“I thought you didn’t like the hobbits being taken to Isengard,” Tony pouts.

“Not when it’s on loop and happening the sixth time in a row,” Loki says, dropping the book into Tony’s lap roughly.

Yeah, okay, the man isn’t feeling well, maybe he should leave? But Tony doesn’t want to leave him alone if he’s feeling bad either!

Tony opens the book, skipping through the contents and prologue-y pages. He will enjoy the book and he’ll do it while sitting on the opposite side of the couch because if Loki doesn’t want to lay across and tangle their legs under a blanket that’s up to him. Besides, that’s more an afternoon activity, and Tony isn’t tired at all, so he’s sitting up properly. Which contrasts with Loki’s slouchy leaning-into-the-couch.

“You know, if it’s too quiet, or the book doesn’t interest you, you can just watch something, I won’t be offended.”

“Not so fast, crab-man, I’m doing this to have fun and try something you enjoy, because I like spending time with you, and think that’s fair,” Tony states, and oh sh*t Loki looks devastated. Quick, something fun, something fun, “So I will definitely be trying to read it... at least a bit, before I do anything else… because I may vehemently not-like reading, but I do enjoy your company.”

“Okay,” Loki verbosely replies.

Tony tries to figure out what he’s done wrong but Loki’s opened his book up already.

Tony manages to get through the book in about two hours. Which means he didn’t actually read through it, he just tried, and kept skipping to pages further along that looked more interesting. To be fair, there is a lot of exposition and world building that he knows doesn’t matter because it’s not in the movies.

Loki’s been shifting how he’s sitting at twenty minute intervals, but Tony hasn’t moved lest he come off as restless and not loving the book.

“You can put something on,” Loki suggests, having noticed that Tony is done.

“It won’t disturb you?”

“Not if you don’t have it unreasonably high.”

Tony looks around for the remote, and doesn’t see it. “Any idea where the remote is?”

“Eh, it’ll be lying around somewhere. Maybe check the kitchen?”

And so, Tony sets out on a quest to find the remote.

He doesn’t find it.

He looks through every inch of the couch and in every kitchen cupboard but all he finds are pop tarts and pennies.

At some point Loki puts his book aside and decides to watch him look. He’s even smiling a tiny bit which Tony takes for a good sign.

“Hey, so, I couldn’t find the remote.”

“That’s a shame,” Loki says, and he’s definitely smiling, “would be horrible if someone knows where it is.”

“YOU!” Tony says, rounding in on him, depression be damned, he’s been looking everywhere for an hour now! “Where is it?!”

“Wh— why do you think I would know?” Loki says, turning his face away, his arms crossed pretentiously.

“You’re laughing!” Tony says, pointing a finger at him. “I spend ages looking for this legendary remote and find out you’ve been playing me the entire time” —Tony pokes a finger in the center of his chest for emphasis— “and you’re laughing!”

And okay, it’s a little funny, and Loki’s having fun, so Tony huffs a laugh too.

“I’m not laughing,” Loki tries to say flatly, face turned away, as he clearly tries not to laugh.

Tony being Tony does the only respectable thing in this kind of scenario and jumps onto the couch, straddling Loki, so he can turn his face back towards him.

“Where’s the remote!” Tony yells, to no avail, not even a reaction to having sat on his legs. Is Loki even breathing? His smile is clearly becoming harder to hold…

“Tell me where the remote is” — Tony grabs the thick novel Loki had been reading — “or I’ll take out your bookmark!”

“No!!!” Loki says, trying to grab hold of his book. “Not the bookmark!!! That’s my one weakness! Please, no! Anything but the bookmark!!!”

“Don’t make me do it!! Because I will!!”

Loki chuckles.

“Fine, you win, here” —Loki reaches a hand under the pillow behind him, and holds up the remote.

Tony snatches it immediately, and gives Loki a peck on the cheek thanks before getting off and going back to his side of the couch.

If Loki looks a little confused about the quick kiss, it’s gone by the time Tony is done flicking through the channels and decides a nature documentary is something they could both enjoy. When Mr Attenborough mentions otters holding hands when they’re happy and Loki asks if he can hold Tony’s hand of course Tony says yes.

Later, when Loki insists on cooking for the two of them he throws together some instant noodles and adds in carrots and peas and egg and mushrooms, and he asks if Tony would like to share the meal down by the beach, he agrees.

“You sure you’re up for this? I don’t mind eating back in the bungalow, and if you’re feeling uncomfortable I’d rather just go back,” Tony makes clear.

“I don’t actually know why I thought staying home would make me feel any better,” Loki says lightly.

“Hey man, sometimes you’ve just gotta stay home, it happens, don’t worry about it,” Tony consoles, carefully going down the sandy grassy slope to the beach, his huge bowl of noodles held in both hands. It smells great. “Besides, focus on the date for now.”

“This isn’t a date, I just asked you out to the beach to eat some comfort food with me.”

“The very definition of my ideal date,” Tony says, listing, “I was invited, there’s comfort food, we’re both already in our sexy pjs, there’s a beach, I think you’re a great friend and we could be more if you wanted, I’ve got my speaker in case we want some romantic classical music, the sunset will happen soon, what more could I want?”

“We also held hands for ages earlier and you kissed my cheek.” Loki winces, “this is totally a date.”

“Sure is.”

“How did I miss that?”

“If it’s any consolation, I was kidding, but you seem on-board, so… it’s a date?”

“It’s a date,” Loki confirms.

“Noodles on a beach is actually one of my secret fantasies,” Tony says, deadpan.

“Well,” Loki suggests, also deadpan, “there’s plenty of space under the gazebo.”

“Table is kinda obstructive,” Tony points out.

“Only if you’re not creative,” Loki counters.

Tony wriggles his eyebrows, and they both laugh.

———

Loki twists the last of his noodles and stabs his last carrot on his fork and puts it in his mouth. He looks into Tony’s bowl, and finds he’s actually finished first.

“You’re an even slower eater than me,” Loki notes aloud.

“Am not!” Tony blubbers out through a mouthful of noodles, “I’m just taking my time to savour it.”

Loki hums, and puts an elbow on the table to watch him finish up.

“So, what do you want to do now?”

Tony slurps up the rest of his food. “Well, now that I’m done, kiss?”

“I was thinking we could stand by the shoreline and get our feet wet, maybe walk up and down the beach a bit…”

“I mean, I’d rather walk up and down you,” Tony says, making a show of looking over Loki, who in turn snickers.

“I’m sorry, that was terrible,” Tony laughs, “it’s just, walk on the beach, that’s so freakin romantic, yeah I’m up for that.”

And it’s nice knowing that they can still hang out as friends, even if Loki is admittedly also intent on the kissing part.

They leave their bowls and flip flops in a pile in the sand and walk to the shore together.

Tony’s hand is warm in his as they swing their arms gently and just take in the salty air and talk about things; just facts about themselves and stories about life and things they like.

Loki’s not sure how much time has passed but it’s dark and only the night sky and it’s reflection on the water provide any light when he presses a hand under Tony’s chin to tip his face up so he can kiss him. It’s slow and sweet, and Tony— even though Loki finds it hard to believe in the moment —kisses back.

They pull apart, and everything is irrelevant in the face of the happiness they feel in having found each other, even by chance.

They kiss again; slower, deeper, and with an urgency ill-befitting of the time and space they have available.

———

Day 5

All records of the final entry have been [REDACTED] until further notice to maintain the rating of this fic.

It can be recalled that the [REDACTED] information featured notable involvement of local gazebo space not limited to below, above, and/or against the table, various uses of the excessive counters both halves of the rented space, more than banging on doors, and future plans for the continued entanglement of [REDACTED] leg distribution underneath blankets.

The reader is warned not to attempt searching for and/or to develop any interest in a desire to search for [REDACTED] records in future placements.

(The End.)

#frostiron holiday wishes challenge #frostiron #OMGGGGGGAWD #SO CUTE #SOOOO CUTEEEEEEEE #prompt #fill

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saintlaurentproblems · 3 years

Note

I remember you mentioning Not too long ago that if Selena ever decided to come clean about her drug addiction, she should speak up about it once and not bring it up again. I highly doubt people will stop asking her about jt tbh. People believe exposingsmg and what she says. They believe her more than entys blinds. But then again not many people know who Enty is. They know more about exposingsmg cause they’re always talking about Selena 24/7 and they defend Justin and make him out to be some sort of saint when he really isnt. Most of they’re followers are also Bullybers/Demi fans/Ariana fans/ and Hailey fans. Imagine how good twt would be without those toxic stans constantly hating on Selena. I see it on here too and on your account. I know for sure they’d make sure the GP know the kind of person she is and the drugs she would use. I see it constantly on Twitter. They bring it up and call her a druggy and a flop all the time. So if they’re not afraid to call her that on Twitter with other stans, I won’t be surprised if they do it with the GP. Plus the media won’t ever let it die down. I don’t see them asking Justin about his drugs issues at all and i still think he battles with them as does Selena.

I think she should do what Taylor did in her documentary. Taylor briefly spoke about her eating disorder but it wasn’t the entire focal point of the documentary. Selena should touch on it in a documentary and then move on.

#answered

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ahgaru · 6 years

Text

Inlusio Fit Vera: JaePil fic (CHAPTER TWO)

Pairing: Jae x Wonpil Side Pairing: Mark x Jinyoung (Got7) Minor mention: Hyunjin & Seungmin (Stray Kids) Genre: Fantasy/Romance Word Count: 2,429

Summary/Description:

Wonpil started reading a book that his best friend, Jinyoung, gave him. As he finished reading it, he tried to find another book to read and he started seeing things he’s not supposed to see; going to places he’s not supposed to go to; fall for someone he’s not supposed to fall in love with.

He also found out a secret that he couldn’t believe.

READ CHAPTER 1 FIRST

on tumblr, on twt, on aff or on ao3

Splashing cold water on his face, Wonpil gets ready for another day—although it’s already noon time. Even though he’s been waking up late for the past days, ironically, he’s not feeling lethargic but energized instead.

“Why have you been coming late for the past few days?”, Jinyoung asks when the older approached him on the counter asking for an iced Americano. He answers it with a shrug before lifting his right arm, elbow on the countertop, and rests his chin on his hand. “You’ve been reading?” With eyebrows raised, Wonpil looks at his best friend as his lips part. “Between the Lines.” The younger raises his brows waiting for answer.

The brown-haired releases a soft breath of relief and gulps before answering. I thought I was caught. “Well, yeah… I read every night” he presses his lips together in guilt.

“You need the second book?”

“No. It’s fine. Not yet… maybe”

A customer excuses and asks for help. Jinyoung scans the shop and sees his worker attending to a lady and the other seems to be doing the same to another patron between one of the aisles. Wonpil offers to look after the counter for his friend to tend to the guest.

Standing behind the work surface with nothing to do, the brown-haired surveys the spot, thinking what it feels to be working behind the counter for the whole day. He sighs and pouts as he opens a drawer, hoping to see something amusing or somehow entertaining. I’d probably just see a book that Nyoungie’s reading these days.

His hunch does not disappoint him. Behind Closed Doors, the title says. He reaches for the book but just as he is about to take it out, a vintage box shows itself. It’s wooden box, which seem like a ring box, with an ornate engraving. Without a second thought, he gets and opens it. A familiar earing lies inside it.

Did he lose this? His forehead furrows as he thinks about the guy whom he’s excited to see when everyone and everything else are asleep except the moon and the two of them.

“Who—what are you doing here?”, he asked the blond guy he saw at his best friend’s café two days ago. Wonpil’s chest started to beat faster. What’s with this familiar sensation? He came closer to Wonpil and the latter had to tilt his head to look at the guy who’s towering over him. Man, he’s so tall.

“Shouldn’t I ask you the same question?”, he smirked before he chortled and shrugged “It’s such a nice place here, don’t you think? The ambiance, the vibe, and oh… interesting books!”

“How did you get here? If you won’t leave the place, I’ll tell Jinyoung you—“

“Can you?”, the tall guy lifted his eyebrow and pierced Wonpil’s gaze with a challenging stare. The latter averted his eyes as a lump started to form in his throat. He knew what the blond guy meant. If he’d tell Jinyoung about the guy, he would also know about him going to this place that he’s not supposed to enter. “Let’s keep it as our little secret, okay?” he winked.

Wonpil swallowed the lump and released a breath to calm down. As he settled himself on the couch, the taller one leaned on the aquarium-like thing which served as the wall. He opened the book he’s been holding and seemed to continue reading. Off The Page? His eyes widened in amusement.

“You’re reading Off the Page?” he asked as if it wasn’t still obvious. The stranger lifted his head and stared at him. An earring dangling from his right ear shined “That’s the second book. Have you read the first one?”

“N—no. I was wondering why something’s off.” He chuckled and shook his head before walking toward the shorter guy. “So, this is the second book, huh?”

“I have the first book, Between the Lines. Do you want to borrow it?” Wonpil queried looking at the guy who just sat across him. He has tiny eyes and narrow nose. Why does he seem so familiar? The young man’s small eyes looked down and his gaze landed on the book lying on his lap.

“Tell me about that book instead”

Since that night, which is almost a week ago, they’ve been seeing each other at past midnight. They share stories, share opinions, and somehow, Wonpil’s hoping that they share the same sentiments.

The presence of an employee brings back his wandering mind to the present. He turns to him with the box still in his hand “Did someone perhaps drop this earring?”

The workman looks at the cross earing with acknowledgement “No, it’s Jinyoung’s”

His forehead creases “Jinyoung’s?” He asks again, making sure. The worker nods his head with confidence. Wonpil looks at the second-story deck and as if on cue, Jinyoung goes out from one of the aisle talking to the customer who needed help. He hastily closes the box and puts it back in the drawer. He moves out and leaves the counter to the employee.

Feeling guilty, he bites his lower lip and tries to calm his drumming heart. He feels bad for hiding something—going to that secret library with a stranger, well not a stranger now, reading the book he was told not to read, and some things he can’t seem to point. But it’s not like he’s not hiding anything from me, too. Am I not just being fair? He tries to justify his actions.

He sits on his usual place and static seems to travel all over his body when he meets someone’s gaze. He’s seated near the glass walls, just when he first saw him. The blond gives a salutation smile and the brown-haired beams back but the face he’s looking at is suddenly replaced with a more familiar one.

“So, are you really planning to spend your whole vacation in my café?” The younger asks teasingly and he just shrugs which translates to ‘yes, most probably’. The black-haired chortles and shakes his head. The older can’t help but look at the visible eye wrinkles of his friend. “Anyway, have you already seen your brother?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Seungmin?”

The younger lifts a brow up “Do you have any other brother? Who else could it be? Of course, it’s no other than him. He’s with my brother right now” As if on cue, two attractive young men come in. Wonpil needs not to turn around to know whose new voices that entered the place belong to, still he does.

He stands up to acknowledge them. Seungmin, who’s a centimeter shorter than Wonpil, and Hyunjin, who’s a centimeter taller than his older brother, stand between them.

“You’re here”, Wonpil, once again, states the obvious.

They settle down and talk for a little while before the two younger ones head out again.

When the longer hand of the clock hovers over seven; while the shorter one is a little before one, Wonpil stands up and walks out of his room. Seungmin, who just came out from the room adjacent to his, looks at him from head to toe. He is wearing a maroon hoodie, with ‘mvp’ printed on it, over a plain white tee, a faded denim pants, white socks and a pair of slides flip flops.

The red-haired glances at the wall clock which reads 12:35 before looking back at his older brother “Why are you wearing denim pants? Are you heading out?”

“Uhh..” he swallows a lump before answering “No, I’m heading to the kitchen. Gonna drink water”

His younger brother narrows his eyes at him. “I’m gonna drink, too. You can go back to your room. I’ll get you a glass and give it to you later.”

“Uhh, no. It’s okay. I’ll do that instead.” Seungmin tilts his head as if studying his brother. Wonpil averts his gaze and bites his lower lip “Alright, I’ll just wait here. Thank you”

Wonpil waits for more than an hour before he goes out because his brother stayed in the living room after getting him a glass of water.

“I thought you’re not gonna show up anymore.” The tall blond guy states when Wonpil enters the secret library. The latter just responds with a smile and asks for an apology for coming late.

He still doesn’t know his name. Every night—early morning, rather—they’d just sit across each other with a book on hand, having little confabs from time to time, sharing their viewpoints from the books they’re reading. But they could not actually read in a normal pace. They read a single sentence for ten times or just lock their eyes on the page for a couple of minutes as if they’re reading.

“You’re actually a slow reader, too” Wonpil said when he asked the tall guy one time on which part he was already on.

“Well, yeah.” The blond-haired shrugged. “I tend to repeat a lot of parts for me to really absorb what’s going on. It’s like chewing the food slowly, savoring its taste before swallowing it”

That’s one reason. But if he had been more honest, it’s because he keeps on being distracted with Wonpil in front of him—who actually feels the same. They keep on letting their sight linger on the other when one’s not looking.

“You’ve been reading?” Wonpil asks as he reach out for the book, Inlusio Fit Vera, and takes a seat.

“Uhh, yeah.” The other nodded “Actually, I went back to square one,” he shrugs. No matter what the reason is—which actually being bothered by Wonpil’s late appearance—the brown-haired decides not to ask.

“Aren’t you afraid of being caught going here secretly?”, the blond queries a few moments after.

Wonpil bites his lower lip and averts his eyes for a second “I actually am.”

“Being scared just meant you had something worth coming back to,” He states in a serious manner, eyes looking straight at Wonpil as if trying to deliver a message. The latter raises both his eyebrows in question and thinks why that line seems to be familiar. The young man with the glasses smiles making Wonpil shift his gaze back to his book and swallow a lump. “It’s a line from this book,” he closes the book, Between the Lines (which was loaned to him by Wonpil few days ago), and holds it up to show it to the brown-haired.

I guess that’s true. Getting caught would mean not being able to spend time with you like this anymore. And I’m afraid of it, even if I know it’ll eventually happen. Wonpil’s mind says but his lips remain sealed.

A person’s life is foreknew and predestined by a Divine Being, whom humans believe, who created them. Their lives are predestined—the Deity who brings them to existence has already designed their paths, like an Architect who designs a house; yet they are the engineers. This Divinity, whom they call God, gave them free will to choose for their own lives—to follow his design, or build their own; to follow the path He leads them to, or walk on a different one—which makes their existence also unpremeditated (despite being predestined) but the Divine One foreknows them. He knows which course they will take; He knows whether they’ll follow his ways or not; He knows the epilogue of each life.

The Iluvirs, on the other hand, do not have this free will that humans have. Thus makes their lives only predestined ones. In Orbisia, the dimension of the Iluvirs, is a universe of determined routes. Like a character on a novel with a life painted by ink on paper; or a puppet controlled through strings by its master, these beings live according to the life designed for them.

Wonpil takes a deep breath and the other raises his head to check on him.

“What’s the matter?”

The shorter one shakes his head with his lips forming a thin line. “It’s just so sad,” the taller narrows his eyes on him “I mean, the lives of the Iluvirs are so…” failing to find the right word, Wonpil releases a deep sigh. “I just can’t imagine, you know, living a life like I’m a puppet being controlled.”

Wonpil notices the sudden change, although subtle, on the other’s features. He suddenly becomes serious yet his eyes are yearning. He closes the book on his hand and leans a bit forward.

“Tell me more,” the tall one raises his arm and rests his chin on his hand.

“I—I just want to take them out of Orbisia to live freely, to live how they want their lives to be and not how whoever-made-them want it to be; not like a character on a novel, a comic, a movie, or whatsoever, who needs to just act their parts like how the writer, the director or the artist wants them to. I want to save them,” he lets out another sigh “I’m sorry for being so dramatic, it’s not like this book, the Iluvirs and the Orbisia are real.” He shakes his head.

“If… If they’re real, do you think that these Iluvirs know the kind of lives they have? Say, if one tries so hard to keep himself alive but he can’t do anything because he’s destined to die in a certain point, do you think they know that they have a fixed life?” The blond pauses for a bit “Just like Oliver in this book I’m reading, he knows that he’s a character in a book—that he has to play his part when the book is opened and to act freely when the book is closed.” He asks because he, himself, wonders—do Iluvirs’ lives only follow the flow of the book when it’s opened and do they act like how they want to be when it’s closed; or either way, their lives go the way their creator want it to be?

Wonpil makes an effort in taking a gulp—he didn’t know that swallowing could be hard but just imagining himself being an Iluvir makes him want to cry in rage. The glasses guy discerns how hard it is for Wonpil and tries to lighten up the atmosphere.

“Don’t take it too seriously, it’s just a book.”

“But… if ever the Orbisia really exists and there are Iluvirs, I really wanna do save them”

The next thing Wonpil hears makes him wonder what it means for the next hours. “You already saved one”

4 notes · View notes

missblanchette · 7 years

Text

Long Dream [5/7]

Series: Joker Game

Characters: Hatano/Jitsui; special guest star appearance: Tazaki

Rating: PG (for language)

Summary: Hatano wasn’t one to read shoujo manga, but there was something familiar about this mangaka named Kunio.

Words: 4947 + bonus

Notes: Modern AU/Reincarnation AU; Spin off to Déjà Vu (KamiMiyo); *wheezes* I promised an update in November, so here we are...!! Sorry for the long wait, life got in the way + writer’s block, but it’s done TwT

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | You can read this on AO3! Thank you guys for your patience and reading; I hope you enjoy~! ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

Ch. 5 - Hatano III: Days of Suffering

As hazy as his recollections may be, Hatano recognized this room. Though perhaps it wasn't the room itself, but whom sat on the other end of it. The hardwood floors were the same as any, just as the beige walls and wooden shelves that lined every other room were. But he could pick out that familiar head of black hair from anywhere, even if facing away from him.

Hatano couldn't recall why he'd entered the room nor why he'd sought Jitsui out in the first place, but a mischievous grin grew on his face. As quietly as possible, he crept into the room and stopped short behind Jitsui. He waited one second, two, three --

"Boo."

Slamming his hands onto Jitsui's shoulders, Jitsui hardly reacted save for the quirk of his body.

"Can't you let me have my fun?" Hatano said, feigning annoyance. Jitsui's next words were lost on him, though, as he took a seat next to him. But his body knew the act by heart and went through the motions as usual: he scoffed, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his seat.

"That's an insult if I've heard one."

"Don't worry --" Jitsui's lips read. "You --"

"Gee, thanks."

The conversation dipped into a lull, which allowed Hatano to observe him. Even if he couldn't make out his features, he'd have to be blind not to notice how different Jitsui appeared. The black frames he wore were the most obvious point, but it was also in the the way he held himself (shrinking inwards, not refined and professional) and the way he'd marked his place in the book he held (bookmarked, not doggy-eared). And maybe, just maybe, the looming sense of separation didn't help the matter either.

"The glasses look suits you," Hatano said finally.

"You --" Jitsui took them off his face, running a hand through his hair. Just like that, the Jitsui he'd always known sat before him.

"Mhm, fits a bookworm like you." He glanced at the book that rested on Jitsui's lap. "Mythology? Didn't think you were into that."

"-- not --" Jitsui placed the glasses on the table beside them. "-- Kunio --"

The name brought about a sense of sorrow that Hatano couldn't quite place, one that he pushed back immediately as soon as it sprung up.

"Yeah? Then what does Kunio think of it?"

"Enjoyable --"

"I'll take your word on that, but --" He grabbed the glasses, pushing them high up the bridge of his nose, and brushed his bangs up. "-- maybe Shimano would."

Without missing a beat, Jitsui curled into himself like a shrinking violet. Even the way he thumbed the book matched the demeanor he now took on, handling it with gentleness.

“-- sure?”

"Try me."

Writing off the gaps in the tale as his incomplete memories would've been an easy lie; the myth Jitsui -- Kunio, rather -- told didn't interest Hatano in the slightest. But he wouldn't be a very good actor, much less a spy, if he couldn't pretend to be interested, so Hatano -- acting as Shimano -- listened to the Egyptian tale of Osiris and Isis. From what he could glean, they'd been lovers separated by Osiris' death. Isis, distraught, searched for Osiris' body parts to put him back together. While she'd succeeded, Osiris' resurrection made him king of the Underworld, keeping them away from each other once more. Surely Jitsui had been more detailed, but that was the gist of it.

"You were right," Hatano said, taking the glasses off and shaking his hair back in place. "I didn't care at all."

"-- the one listening --" Jitsui mouthed. "What --"

Hatano hummed, pretending to think about his response.

"Searching for a lost lover seems like a waste of time, doesn't it?" He shrugged. "Sure Isis brought Osiris back, but what's the point if they're going to be separated again?"

"Depends --"

"Wow, didn't realize you were a romantic deep down inside," he said with a teasing lilt.

Though he couldn't make out his expression, Hatano grew warm underneath Jitsui's gaze.

"I'd do the same," his lips read, and Hatano didn't need to be told for whom. "Wouldn't you?"

Taken aback, Hatano merely stared at Jitsui. He mulled over his next words, wary of their surroundings.

"Careful," he said, trying to maintain the levity in his voice. "Someone might think you're actually capable of love."

To this, Jitsui gave no reply. Instead, he smiled -- a rather sweet smile that Hatano decided suited him the best. And in return, Hatano smiled back.

They soon fell into a silence, but Hatano didn't mind in the slightest. Considering everything going around them, he could almost believe they were at peace in this little bubble of theirs. There'd be no goodbyes between them when they left for their missions and he'd have to pretend as if what they had never existed -- that Jitsui didn't exist.

But had the circumstances been different, had fate been a little kinder towards them, Hatano would've answered Jitsui's question with an "Of course." He would do anything for him, after all.

Forgetful he may be, Hatano still considered himself a perceptive guy.

Minor details like what shirt somebody was wearing or what he did for the day often escaped him, but patterns in behavior were ingrained to his mind. Cycles of repetition made it easier to catch nuances in behavior, whether they be a change in tone or even a simple gesture. No matter how good the actor may be, there was always some hint of their true intentions in their actions.

Take his dad, for example. The guy was always an ass towards him, but now he was just taciturn and evasive.

And it all started with that unknown visitor.

The first incident, Hatano could brush off as nothing; they didn't typically get visitors -- especially unannounced ones, at that -- so of course his dad would get upset. Sure, he was bitchier than usual, but he'd give him the benefit of the doubt just this once.

The second time around, however, Hatano couldn't ignore as easily.

It was strange enough to have someone drop by one day, but it was a flat out abnormality for it to happen twice in a row.

Hatano hardly had time to think when the doorbell rang, having been hit with a migraine as soon as he stepped into the house on top of pondering the whereabouts of the letter. By the time he stumbled off his bed, he heard the door being unlocked.

By all means, he could've just minded his own business, flop back into bed and try to sleep the pain off, but curiosity won him over and his feet dragged him out into the hallway with Yoru following in tow. Staying hidden, Hatano strained his ears to catch the conversation.

"Good afternoon," the person behind the door said. At the sound of those words, Hatano's heart skipped a beat. Though he couldn't see who it was, he could tell it was a guy's voice -- polite, refined, and most importantly, familiar . But much to his frustration, he couldn't place exactly where he'd heard it.

His dad clicked his tongue, bringing Hatano's attention back to the present.

"You again."

A pause.

"Yes, it's me again," the other man said. Though soft spoken, an underlying edge crept into his voice. "You said Hatano would be around later and since it's later, I was wondering if he was around?"

Hatano furrowed his eyebrows. His dad never mentioned anyone looking for him.

"Sorry, kid. He's not here."

"Then could you tell me when he'll be back -- exactly ?"

"I wouldn't be able to tell you; he's back when he's back. Now leave."

Something blocked the door as his dad closed it. From this angle, Hatano couldn't see what was going on outside, but he could only assume it was the other guy who’d done it.

"I'm sorry, but --"

"I said leave." Without giving him a chance to finish, his dad pushed him back and slammed the door with finality.

The air suffocated him, much like how the tension stabbed his head. It seemed that the other guy had given up for the day but his dad made no sign of moving, staring at the door as if daring it to respond. Hatano waited, counting his heartbeats before stepping out into the living room.

"Who was that?" Hatano asked as casually as he possibly could.

A beat.

"No one important," his dad said, slowly turning to him.

"Same shit head as yesterday?"

His dad's lips twitched.

"Yeah."

His dad gave no further explanation, not like he expected him to in the first place. The annoyance written all over his face told him more than he needed, anyways.

As his dad retreated into his own room, Hatano looked back towards the door. The very fact that someone was looking for him was difficult to swallow, especially given his small social circle. The guy certainly didn't sound like any of his friends nor could he think of anyone who'd want anything to do with him. Even so, his eyes drifted down to his wrist, yet he couldn't find it in himself to be sure.

He couldn't rely on naive hopes, he'd learned that long ago. Regardless, Hatano made note to keep watch. The missing letter, the unknown visitor, his dad's attitude -- something was up, and not for the better.

Hatano had stopped anticipating anything in the mail but that didn’t stop the disappointment that struck up at the sight of the empty mailbox. Sometimes, being a monster seemed easier than dealing with these human feelings.

Thankful for the minimal contact with his dad upon his return, Hatano made his way to his room. As much as he wanted to rest his throbbing head, he ripped off the post-it note that he'd stuck onto his headboard and checked off "mailbox." Underneath it, "visitor" had yet to be touched. If there was a pattern to be seen, it was that these two happened to coincide.

He clicked his tongue as he checked his watch, berating himself for not taking down the time. That might've been a smart idea, but whatever. It'd happen eventually. In the meantime, Yoru's meows filled the room and while he loved the fur ball, he could only take so much before his head exploded.

"What d'ya want, bud?" He said, kneeling down to scratch the underside of Yoru's neck.

All of a sudden, a clank resounded, causing him to jump as he'd been too focused on petting Yoru. He looked around and nearly dismissed it as nothing when another clank followed, his hand raising to his head to settle down his headache. His mind raced, scrambling to find the most likely source of the noise. As far as he knew, there wasn't anything that could've made such a loud sound.

Well, maybe there was one thing.

Yoru tailed after him as he made his way towards the balcony. The only thing he could think of was outside -- the fire escape to be exact. The trap door was the only thing he could think of that was heavy enough to make such a noise. Then again, if it was the fire escape, why the hell was it making that noise? At a first glance, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then he heard another clanking sound, stronger this time, and moved to slide open the door. Just as his hands gripped the handle, his father called out.

"Hatano!"

Hatano huffed, debating on whether or not he should humor his dad.

"Yeah?" he called back, only to get no response.

"What?" He tried again to no avail. Rolling his eyes so hard they could've fell out of his sockets, he turned away just as another clank rang out.

"Be right back," he told Yoru. "Keep an eye out for me, 'kay?"

With Yoru's meow of affirmation, Hatano took one last glance outside the balcony before leaving his room. It probably wasn't a big deal anyways, he thought to keep his nerves down. Still, that didn't stop him from wondering.

Usually, Hatano could deal with his migraines and suck it up to go about his day, but there were times where he wanted nothing more than the sweet relief of death. As he burrowed his head deeper into his pillow, he made such a wish to rid himself of the damn stabbing in his head. It must've been a culmination of all the stress from the past couple of days, where he felt like he was going outta his goddamn mind; having been constantly on the edge, it'd gotten to the point where he swore he heard someone calling his name. Who? He didn't know. Either way, he simply couldn't bring himself to get out of bed, let alone crack open his eyes.

Days to himself were far and few in between and if not for his current state, Hatano would've have taken advantage of the time alone. His dad was out at work so he was free to do as he pleased, which meant he could've even done more investigating on that mystery visitor. Though, he supposed, there wasn't much to be done about that. Even if he had his suspicions, he couldn’t determine anything was a sign from them. Well, good thing he was incapacitated -- he wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing if they actually stopped by.

Fur filled his vision, Yoru's meows greeting him like nails against a chalkboard. He reached out to pet him, partly to silence him, partly to find some semblance of being alive. He managed to quiet Yoru down into a purr -- much like a flick to the forehead -- but that only spurred Yoru into pawing at him. Deigning himself to the outside world, Hatano squinted at him.

"Need something?" he asked. Yoru mewled in reply. Hatano sighed.

"Can it wait? 'm kinda preoccupied." Lazily, he gestured to his head. Yoru's reply was to stare at him, his yellow eyes boring into his. With a look like that, Hatano knew he wasn't gonna win.

"Okay," he said. "Give me a sec."

Mentally counting to ten, Hatano hauled himself up from bed and rolled out. He landed on his feet rather unsteadily, but brushed it off as he made a face at Yoru.

"Lead the way," he said, exhausted.

As much as he detested special treatment, Hatano was glad Yoru didn't move too quickly. His own steps were but stumbles in comparison to his, what with his migraine making it difficult to walk around. Though it was a short trip, it seemed to last longer than one of Tazaki's pigeon care lessons and he'd nearly blanked out when Yoru stopped. He nearly tripped over him as his hand slammed against the nearest surface to keep him steady. With that, the door in front of him creaked open and it was then that Hatano realized where Yoru brought him.

"...You sure 'bout this?" he asked, peering into the room. It wasn't that he'd never been in his dad's room before, but he never went in unless absolutely necessary. Maybe he needed to stop watching horror movies, but it felt like cold air hung around the room like some ghost haunted it.

In response, Yoru pushed the door open further. Hatano hugged himself as a shiver ran through his body, missing his chance to scold Yoru as Yoru ventured in further. Resigning himself to Yoru's judgement, he trudged after him. Yoru's last stop was the drawer that stood opposite to them, and he climbed on top of it before beckoning Hatano with his yellow eyes. His tail swung back and forth across the top drawer as if signalling him. After a moment's hesitation, Hatano stepped forward and inspected it.

"Open it?"

Yoru blinked slowly.

Running his hands across the wood, he found a keyhole in the center. He clicked his tongue as he pulled on it to no avail. But dammit, he was no quitter. He gripped onto the handles, using the pressure from his migraine to edge him on, and after a few pulls, the drawer popped open.

"All right, so... what am I looking for?"

A meow.

"Very helpful." Nonetheless, he began shifting through the drawer's contents.

Hatano wasn't sure what surprised him more: the fact that his dad kept this stuff or that it existed at all. To the side were some certificates, a ripped up marriage certificate and his birth certificate right underneath. On top of them was a tarnished ring, a wedding ring from the looks of it. Further on was a family picture from when he was a toddler, or what was left of it anyways. His mother was torn off, the tear cutting right into his own face. As he reached out for it, something else caught his eye -- an envelope. With his name on it.

Everything else now forgotten, Hatano grabbed it immediately. Flipping it back and forth, Hatano noted two things: the letter had already been opened and the sender's name was painstakingly familiar. Wasting no time, Hatano pulled the letter out and began reading.

Dear Hatano,

Hopefully this has met the right person. If it has, then I won't be keeping this too long. Admittedly, part of it is because I'm not quite sure what to say. Ironic, isn't it? I've spent a long time wanting to see you again but now that you're within reach, I find myself speechless. For now, I'll put down my feelings as best as I can.

There are stories of lost loves, of the harrowing journeys taken to find them, and there was once a life where I'd found them far-fetched. After all, there are other things to do than wasting it on a futile search for some person. But thinking about it -- about us -- I'd do the same, wouldn't you? Perhaps this will sound cliche, but I've found that cliches do just the trick. I don't know if you feel the same, if you remember me, or have any idea of what I'm talking about, but that's okay. It's funny how much just the memory of someone can influence you, and how much you've motivated me even if you weren't by my side. I just wanted to let you know that even if I haven't met you in this lifetime, you're still important to me.

With that said, I hope you don't mind me dropping by and that we can catch up then.

Love,

Jitsui

The letter tight in his grip, Hatano stumbled backwards and fell right onto the bed behind him. So. He was right. Kunio was Jitsui, Jitsui was Kunio -- the very same guy. Getting that confirmation, Hatano felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the ache in his head beginning to dull. To think that Jitsui had been looking for him, too, this whole time -- even longer than he'd been, in fact. It was a concept Hatano could barely wrap his mind around, the concept that someone had missed him and wanted him.

But it was just as the words he'd read began to sink in that Hatano realized the circumstances in which he'd found the letter: a locked drawer in his dad's room, with the letter having already been opened. Not to mention, the letter was dated from last week. His dad had been keeping it from him, but Hatano couldn't fathom why. Before he could question it further, the doorbell rang.

He glanced towards the clock and saw that it was just about the time his dad came home, but he should've had his key on him. Regardless, Hatano carefully folded the letter and placed it in his pocket but not before giving the words another glance over. He then patted his pocket to make sure the letter was still there and headed towards the door.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to confront his dad about it now or not. But then again, if not now, then when? Perhaps he was more of a coward than he thought he was. As Hatano beat himself up over the matter, he slowly removed the hatch and unlocked the door. Allowing himself a moment's breath, he swung it open, only to grow numb at what greeted him.

"Hatano?"

His breath caught at the sound of his name, the voice so familiar but yet not so. Similarly, he knew the head of obsidian black hair, the cherubic face, and the porcelain skin; vaguely, he recalled dreams that felt far out of reach. And the eyes, especially -- though he couldn't remember seeing them, he knew those big, dark brown eyes. He knew him, and Hatano had never felt so sure of anything in his life.

There was a name on the tip of his tongue. His thoughts drifted to the characters written on his wrist.

"Ji --"

"Excuse me." His dad's voice cut in, Jitsui suddenly being pulled back as his dad entered the fray. "We're not having visitors right now."

Before Hatano could even process what was happening, his dad pushed him back into the house. Too stunned to even think, Hatano stood numbly as his dad locked the door behind them. Loud bangs reverberated throughout the room from the other side, the door practically reaching off its hinges, but his dad paid no mind to them. It was only until his dad passed him by, their shoulders touching ever so briefly, that Hatano snapped back into reality.

"What the hell was that about!?" Hatano said the first thing to come to mind, repercussions be damned.

"What the hell was what?" His dad was as dismissive as always, only adding more fire to Hatano's temper.

"You know exactly what I mean."

Still, his dad continued playing it off as he put his belongings away.

"It's none of your business."

"Are you shitting me?" Without thinking, Hatano grabbed his dad by the collar, their gazes clashing against each other's. In any other situation, Hatano would've hated laying an eye on the man -- equal parts spite and fear -- but now, all he saw was a target to beat the crap out of. "You keep things away from me , and you say it's none of my business?"

His dad remained silent, his stare piercing. It was only once the adrenaline started wearing off that Hatano began to think that maybe he should’ve gone about this differently. His grip loosened, and it was then that his dad shoved him onto the floor. Hatano hissed as his body made contact, his hands shooting out just in time to protect himself from too much damage.

"You live under my roof, don't you?" Towering over him, his dad grabbed the back of his head and forced him to look up. "I'm just doing what's best for you."

"What's best for me?" Hatano spat the words out. "You've done nothing but make my life hell!"

Hatano bit down on his lips, the iron taste of blood filling his tongue as his dad's grip on him tightened. Even if his heart pounded against his chest, he didn't once dare look away.

"Your mother left you in my care," his dad said, the coldness in his tone enough to send shivers down his body. "I'm just doing what she asked of me."

A bout of silence fell over the two, but Hatano wasn't about to let his dad have the last word.

"No wonder she left you."

His face slammed against the floor faster than he could comprehend. The side of his face was going to bruise for sure, if the stinging was anything to go by. But he had no time to take care of his wounds, as his dad forced him to look up again.

"Hate me all you want, but you're under my rule, whether you like it or not."

His dad dropping his head against the floor, Hatano was left lying there. Attempting to get up proved useless, as he was too tired, too overwhelmed to pick himself up and fell back down. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but time didn't matter when he couldn't even think properly. It was only when Yoru neared him, prodding and poking him as if to make sure he was all right, that Hatano returned to his senses.

Slowly, Hatano sat up. The room had gone eerily silent after all the banging on the door that must've stopped some time ago. Looking at the window, Hatano noted how late it was as the sun had already set. Clicking his tongue, Hatano pet Yoru, letting his purrs soothe him.

"Well, that was a fucking mess," he said more to himself than anything. In return, Yoru nuzzled against him.

He sighed, trying to figure out all the thoughts running through his head. But if there was one thing he knew, he knew that he couldn't stay here. Not for the time being at least.

Taking the letter out from his pocket, he found the sender's address. It wasn't too far away from where he lived, actually, but something inside of him told him not to go tonight. It was late, was the excuse he thought of, but he knew deep down that he couldn't handle anything else going wrong today. Loathe as he is to admit it, he was scared. Of being wrong. Of being rejected. Of loss.

Regardless of his feelings, he knew he'd have to face it eventually. So picking himself up, Hatano wobbled into his room and began stuffing his belongings into his bag. With each thing he grabbed, a voice told him to drop it and stay put with what was familiar. Try as he might to ignore it, it only grew louder and louder until he'd gotten everything. As much as he entertained the thought of running away, he'd never actually gone through with it before. Leaving what was a shitty environment was for the better, but it was all Hatano knew, all he could remember, all he could grasp. Though, this wasn't really running away, was it? He'd come back once he'd dealt with everything, though he supposed the consequences would be the same. Then again, did his dad even care --

A meow came from his side, shaking him out of his thoughts. Right, he knew he was forgetting something.

"Let's go, Yoru," Hatano said, picking Yoru up. "We're taking a little trip."

Opening the balcony door, he slid down the fire escape.

Running away staggering on his feet and nursing a migraine probably wasn't his best idea, but no way in hell was he going back now. Since it was pretty late, Hatano could only hope that one of the guys saw one of his many texts. He reconsidered Kunio's (no -- Jitsui's, he reminded himself) address but decided that he wasn’t mentally prepared for that reunion yet. Talk big he may, but the thought of reuniting was a little daunting.

Just a little.

Okay. Very daunting. He didn't wanna keep Jitsui waiting, but he didn't wanna disappoint him with his current self either (despite no matter how many times he reassured himself that Jitsui didn't care, Jitsui would be happy to see him, Jitsui cared about him). The most important thing now was that he had to get away from the place he called “home” and recollect himself.

Within a few seconds of him knocking, the door swung open to reveal a sleepy-eyed Tazaki.

"...Do you realize what time it is?" Tazaki mumbled.

"I know, I know," Hatano said, wasting no time stepping in and letting Yoru down. "I'll be gone in the morning, but I’ll pay you back somehow."

"You're always welcome here, you know," Tazaki said as he closed the door behind them. Once the lights were on, Hatano could clearly see the worry etched on Tazaki's face -- his furrowed eyebrows and the frown he wore. Then, Tazaki's eyes bulged and he reached out to touch his face. "Oh my God, are you all right!?"

Out of instinct, Hatano flinched but he reminded himself that it was just Tazaki and forced himself to relax.

"I am -- will be," he said, finding it difficult to keep eye contact with Tazaki. He turned away, setting his bag down. "It's just..." He trailed off, not even sure how to explain himself.

Now that he thought about it, he never really discussed anything that was going on lately with the guys; sending a text that said "im dropping by" in the dead of night didn't really count. Whether he was just tired or just truly speechless, Hatano couldn't find the words to speak even after all that happened. So instead, he put a hand on Tazaki's arm. "There's a lot going on; I'll explain later. Right now, I just need to get away from there," he said, both of them knowing exactly what "there" meant.

Tazaki didn't say anything at first, his gray eyes running over him as if looking for further explanation. Thankfully, he didn't push the topic, patting a hand on his and nodding.

"Whenever you're ready, okay?" he said. He paused, as if wanting to say something else. "Let me get you a blanket. And an ice pack."

"Thanks," Hatano said, slumping into the couch and finally letting his body rest. He was gonna get through this, he told himself. With the image of Jitsui in mind, he knew that things would work out somehow.

bonus

Just as he sank into the couch, a thought hit Hatano. Immediately, he popped into a sitting position and started rummaging through his bag.

"Wait!” he said, causing Tazaki to freeze in his steps. “I have something for you."

It didn't take him too long to find what he needed and handed it to Tazaki, whom looked at it incredulously.

"Is... this my hot glue gun?"

"Yep," Hatano said, popping the "p."

"I lent this to you, like, six months ago."

Hatano shrugged.

"Said I'd give it back to you, didn't I?"

Tazaki looked back and forth between him and the hot glue gun.

"...True."

#joker game #!fanfic #!f: joker game #!hybrid #wheezes even more hopefully next ch will be up soon

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